Things To Take
Bathing Suits
Sunscreen
Kites and Beach Toys
Books for Pleasure (I’m reading The End of the Series of Unfortunate Events and the first Ranger’s Apprentice book)
Rum
Gin
Bikes
Running Shoes (6 1/2 weeks until the Army Ten Miler)
Things to NOT Take
The Dog
High Heels
Sewing Machine (I did consider it, though)
Cook Books
Blackberry (he left it on his desk…please pass the smelling salts)
Alarm Clock
Math or Latin Textbooks
He was going to Florida on business, leaving in the morning, driving. She had an appointment that morning, but would head to her parents’ house, in a different part of Florida, that afternoon.
Things were hectic that morning. She pulled the large green duffel bag and the small wheeled suitcase from the closet and put them in the master bedroom, tossing in a few of the kids’ things she had ready. A bit later, he went up to pack. “Which bag should I take?” he called out to her as she scurried around, getting ready for her appointment.
“The wheeled one!” she shouted from several rooms away. She wasn’t sure he heard her but figured when he saw the children’s belongings in the duffel bag, he would have his answer.
She raced off to her appointment, kissing him goodbye, knowing he’d be gone when she got back.
Hours later, he called home from the road (he was not driving, just in case anyone would like to flag him for unsafe behavior). “How are you?” he asked.
She had just gotten home and was trying to get the house shut down and the family out the door. “I’m a little crazy right now,” she answered, wondering if he needed something.
“Oh.” Pause.
“You know, I’m in that frantic, trying to make sure I get everything done and don’t come home to stinky garbage left in the kitchen stage.”
“Oh.” Pause.
“You know, that ‘Why is he calling me and keeping me from getting my work done?’ insane stage of packing.”
“Oh.” Pause. “Maybe I should go.”
“Yeah…I’ll call you when I get on the road.”
Ten minutes later, she went upstairs to pack her clothes. No duffel bag. She ran downstairs and asked the kids if they had seen it. They swore it was upstairs. She ran upstairs. No duffel bag. She ran downstairs to get the phone, which should have been upstairs, but was obviously placed to ensure a good day’s exercise instead.
“Do you…wha…why…” Pause for breath and to compose herself. “Did you take the green duffel?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t we…what did…didn’t you…” The incoherent spluttering continued for a bit while she searched for the right words. She inhaled. “Did you ask me which suitcase to take?”
“Yes.”
“What did you hear me say?”
“Um, I didn’t hear very clearly, but I thought you said to take the duffel bag.”
“Even though the kids’ stuff was in it?”
“Yeah, I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
“You left all the kids’ stuff here?”
“Oh, yes.”
“OK. No big deal. I meant for you to take the wheeled one.” Pause. “I just want to clarify that we completely screwed this up.”
“Yeah…”
“Maybe we need to work on our communication skills?”
“Yeah.”
Or maybe we shouldn’t run around like chickens without heads.
Or both.
…is still a fun day at the beach.
Digging.
Building.
Digging.
Building.
Digging.
Building.
Getting covered in sand.
Learning that sand has more friction than pavement.
The kids all wanted to take off their shoes and socks. The air temperature was about 50 degrees; I have no idea what the water was. I warned them that frostbitten toes would require amputation, but they were undeterred. The girls quickly changed their minds about wading in. My boys are not as smart. I let them play ankle deep in the frigid Atlantic for about 10 minutes before ordering them to get out. Later, I took Mary back for a nap, and they returned to their foolishness, this time going even deeper. When Bill finally made them get out to come home, Billy reluctantly complied despite being wet to his waist. Of course, as soon as the cold air hit him, he was moaning. I’d like to think the the half mile walk home cured them all of future polar dips, but I doubt it. Bill called ahead and I had readied a steaming shower for Billy and a hot bath for Jenny who had tripped and fallen in. The fifteen minutes of discomfort were long forgotten by the time lunch was finished.The last two days I’ve been driving all over Ohio. Many of the miles have been unintentional. That’s okay. The weather here has been wonderful, and I’ve been on rural highways lined with green trees and covered by a blue sky filled with thick puffy clouds. On one drive, expected to last a few hours, I allowed the kids to watch a video. Although it netted me a few hours of quiet, I couldn’t help but regret that they were missing such beautiful countryside.
It all worked out, though, since the drive took three hours, and I didn’t permit a second mind-numbing distraction.
My kids have not been on their best behavior. I guess it would be too much to expect them to keep up the act for a whole week! But they haven’t been horrid.
I love that they can go to the homes of strangers or near-strangers and have fun.
I love that they can hug relatives they haven’t seen in a year and be comfortable with them.
I love that they can hang out at the hotel pool and make friends with the kids there.
I love going down for breakfast with one child and having him greet a strange child at breakfast by name.
I love having a minor disagreement with my husband about which way to go (when neither of us have a clue), and discovering, when he took the nearest turn to head in the basic direction that we wanted to go, that he had happened to turn onto the exact street on which I lived for two years.
I love being able to point out to my family that home, and love telling my husband how that quiet street was so noisy to my fairly rural six year old self that I had trouble falling asleep at night when we first moved there.
I love being able to guide him, from memory, to my old church and parochial school, and even remembering the name of the other Catholic Church a few blocks away.
I love stepping inside a church and finding it almost exactly as I remembered it, and love telling my children how I made my First Holy Communion there.
I love remembering a candy shop or bakery across the street where we went a few times after Mass, and looking, and seeing one right where I expected it.
I love having uncles who call me up and invite me over because I’m local, and love having uncles who say they will pick up my husband at 7 am sharp for the men-only Saturday breakfast, and love having uncles who will go to the airport at midnight to pick up my husband in late on a delayed flight, and love having uncles who will host an impromptu cookout for the whole big extended family on my behalf just because I drove up to see them all.
I have 24 hours left in Ohio. I sure hope I don’t do too much extra driving. But if I do, the memories and the family will be worth it.
The past two weekends have found my family traveling.
This happy baby is not the same baby that was in the car.
The first stop was the Henry-Doorly Zoo. We could have spent more than the four hours we did spend there, but they were starting to lock up.
I feel like this mama lion. Kids are always on top of me.
At the zoo, we employed the buddy system. Guess who was my buddy?
I found this picture taken by my father when we visited the Jesse James farm in November last year. We used the buddy system then, too. This is not a cropped picture. My dad likes his grandkids better.
They had a firetruck. Petey liked the firetruck.
The best thing about having a younger brother is having an excuse to play on a firetruck.
Katie enjoyed the arts and crafts room.
As did Jenny.
The best room was the ball room where there were all sorts of ways to get little plastic balls around the room – pulleys, conveyors, pumps, air pressure. Balls would roll down tracks, shoot through the air like bullets, twist through mazes, roll down slopes. The room was a beehive of activity with everyone working to move balls around. More than one activity could not be easily done by one person, so teams of kids had to work together to move the balls around. Here, Billy stomps on a pedal which shoots air into a tube to move balls. Hard to explain…but very cool.
Camping as a family is a lot of fun. Everyone works together to set up camp. You have plenty of time to just be together: fishing, swimming in the lake, sitting around the campfire. Except for the initial outlay of cash for equipment (most of which you can rent, borrow or do without), camping is very inexpensive. And after a full day of work, everyone falls quickly asleep to the sound of quietly chirping crickets and the occasional croak of a frog.
This is what my inner cheerleader tells me every time I get that crazy idea to take the family out for a few days of communing with nature. Rah rah sis boom bah. We like camping, yes we do, we like camping, how ’bout you?
I stubbornly refuse to listen to that infernal pessimist who points out all the doom and gloom of camping. She has no idea what she’s talking about. She mentions the frustration of tangled fishing lines. She reminds me of my paranoia around water with lots of little children. She warns of the dangers of open fire and children with marshmellows on sticks leaning in for a closer roasting spot. And she points out that my children are not normal: exhaustion only winds them up so tightly they can’t go to sleep, especially not to that cacophony of cicadas and other bugs so loud you’d swear Manhatten traffic was more lulling.
I’ll admit that the timing could have been better for us. My lower back was hurting really badly. I would have suffered through it for the sake of the family, but nobody was having a good time, it seemed. Bill and Pete were sick – both had in fact, two nights before, shivered all night through a fever and both were still weak. And all the kids were still in turmoil from the move, so the cooperation level was low and the meltdown fuses were short. And it was HOT. Relaxing in the shade with only the exertion of putting a cold cup of lemonade to your lips would have caused a sweat, and we weren’t relaxing, because camping is work.
Even as I write this, my inner cheerleader is arguing with me, telling me it wasn’t all that bad. I don’t mind the work at all. Actually, I do consider that to be the fun part. We enjoyed seeing deer pass within a dozen yards of our camp. And I’m now totally sold on lake swimming, especially in an area someone has graded and marked for swimmers. It’s gentler than the ocean with no rip tides and the only waves coming from passing boats, and there is usually a more generous shallow end for toddlers and pre-swimmers to bob around in. Our evening dip certainly felt rewarding and refreshing after our work in setting up camp. And if my back hadn’t been aching so, the air mattress we hauled along just for my pregnant belly would have aided in a truly decent night’s sleep.
Oh, there she goes again, that peppy voice. If we hadn’t just moved, if it weren’t so hot, if my back didn’t hurt…my ankles are still swollen and itchy from the mosquito bites. And there’s one thing Miss Pom Pom always forgets: the dirt.
I can handle the dirt myself. Even dripping with sweat, I can manage a certain level of personal cleanliness that at least makes healthy food preparation possible. If my knees get a bit soiled, that’s ok. If my black bra, left to dry overnight, shows what must be salt residue lines from dried perspiration, I’ll survive. But watching my kids squat down first thing in the morning by the breakfast fire getting their clean PJs covered in ashes just makes me nuts. And the picture below, as they say, is worth a thousand words. Pete, 15 minutes after arriving at our campsite, looked like this. And this is pretty much how he looked 15 minutes after I cleaned him up…every time I cleaned him up.
My inner cheerleader is just telling me to pack more baby wipes next time. Maybe next time I’ll pack a shotgun and silence the inner cheerleader forever.
Feel free to notify the local authorities about the dubious condition of my mental health.
I’ll not claim “high-spirits” or chipper moods, but everyone is a little less grouchy now that we’ve recovered from the second leg of our journey. Our last bit of traveling across the state of Missouri is tomorrow, and should “only” take about 5 hours or so with the car in tow. I have high hopes that by Wednesday night I’ll be sleeping on my own bed.
We’ll not manage to get to everything on our to-see list, but we will have done a lot. I’ll include links for future reference and for all those Googlers who key in “visiting St. Louis with little children – things to do in three days.” Pictures will have to wait until I get my computer, and, more importantly, get an internet connection. That might be a while.
Friday morning, we visited The Arch. There is a Museum of Westward Expansion underneath which Bill and the kids visited while I stood in line for tickets to the top. Lots of stuffed animals and “talking robots,” as Billy described excitedly. After the unique ride to the top, everybody enjoyed the views of the Mississippi River and St. Louis. I give The Arch experience 7 thumbs up.
We stopped in for a brief prayer at The Old Cathedral. This is the oldest Catholic church west of the Mississippi. Simple, elegant beauty. We walked past The Old Courthouse of Dred Scott decision fame, but did not go in.
That afternoon, we went to the Saint Louis Zoo. We got there late enough that even the parking was free. Definitely 7 thumbs up on this. And although to children a zoo is a zoo is a zoo, I appreciated the shady walkways throughout the park (in contrast, all I remember about the Cleveland Zoo is the blazing sun) and the pathway in one section was made to look like dried mud with pawprints and leafprints and other such decorations along the way. Very nice.
Yesterday morning, we went to the Anheuser-Busch Factory for their tour. Bill liked it. Fritz and Katie didn’t seem to have any complaints, but the one-hour tour was too long for Billy and Jenny. Pete was fine as long as I was holding/carrying him – an exhausting reality that limited my own enjoyment. One disappointment was that the filling and packaging line we viewed was down. The kids would have thought it much cooler to see bottles whirling around at high speeds. The tour includes some neat history of St. Louis, the beer industry, and life in these United States, so you don’t have to like beer to like the tour. In fact, even if you are a beer snob like my husband, you might find the factory experience interesting. Note: I did not see my husband turning his nose up at the free samples at the end. For ages 5 and up, I give it 4 out of 5 thumbs up.
After naps, we went to Grant’s Farm, owned by the Busch family. You take a tram ride through Deer Park, where you get to see lots of free-ranging animals – some quite close to the road. At the farm itself, you can pet goats and chickens and view an assortment of other animals from Bald Eagles to elephants to camels. One or two hours is plenty of time for this venture, entrance is free, and parking is only $8. At the other side of the parking lot are stables and pastures for the Clydesdale horses owned and bred by the Busch family. Pretty things. This stop (farm and stables) was a big hit: another 7 thumbs up.
Not too far from Grant’s farm, we located one of the two Ted Drewes frozen custard stands. Having seen the movie Cars (twice in the last week alone), we were all interested to discover that the stand we went to on Chippewa is on a section of the historic Route 66. We didn’t know enough to try a legendary “concrete” – a bit like ordering a coffee at Starbucks is how Bill described them – but what we did eat went down with no complaints. 7 thumbs up! And a side note, should you ever get married in St. Louis, it is apparently customary to head on over to Drewes after the reception in your fancy clothes. It seems they give away free custard to the wedding party, and we were able to see, not one, but two brides and their entourages.
This morning we attended Mass at The New Cathedral. Breathtaking. Here is a link to the inside. It’s filled with mosaics. I’ve been in plenty of gorgeous churches in the world, and this one held it’s ground. I’ll give this stop 2 thumbs up from the adults. The kids did seem to admire the art as well, but a church is a church is a church and there is no F-U-N in that. One day, they’ll appreciate it.
Pete is just about done with his nap, and Bill and the kids should be back soon from The Science Center. I hope they had fun. I also hope they get back in time for us to dash off to The Missouri Botanical Gardens. That would conclude our sight-seeing adventures in St. Louis. There’s more we could have done, if our kids were older, if we pushed hard to get out the door earlier, if we didn’t stop for naps or meals. But maybe we’ll just come back another time.
In conclusion, if you enjoy urban travels for your long weekend getaways, I recommend St. Louis as a spot with plenty to do, even with five little kids in tow.
It was close to dinner time yesterday, and we were still about an hour away from our destination. I looked over at Bill and said, “So tell me…I died, and this is Purgatory, right?” It couldn’t have been Hell. I still had tremendous Hope that the misery would end…eventually.
Wednesday morning at breakfast, Jenny turned her big, beautiful eyes on me and asked, “What will Daddy and you do when we’re all grown up?”
For starters, we will not take long car trips with children under the age of 5.
Jenny spent every waking moment yesterday complaining. I did not think it was possible for a child so young to be able to keep up a grouchy mood for so long. Surely, I thought, she’ll just give up and fall asleep. But no, from sun up to sun down was a continuous monologue about how unhappy she was.
Imagine: I’m hungry. (inhale) I’m hungry. (inhale) I’m hungry. (inhale)
Attempting to offer snacks simply generated fifteen minutes of frustration while she expressed her displeasure about the available options and listed all sorts of choices available to someone with a fully stocked kitchen, but not readily accessible to those trapped inside a 12 passenger van.
The next hour might have been I want to watch something else over and over again as all four of her siblings happily watched a new video. The promise that she could pick the next video did not pacify her, although the promise that if she didn’t cut out the complaining would guarantee that she would not pick out the next video bought us about 20 minutes of quiet.
Of course, we did our best to ignore her, but we’re not deaf, and by dinner time the persistent little stream of annoyance had eroded every last bit of civility in my normally doting mother’s heart.
They say we’ll miss these days. Hmmm.
Right now, Bill is at the hotel pool with the older three, and Jenny and Peter are concluding their much needed naps. We’ve been to the top of the Arch and inside the Old Cathedral today. If good moods prevail, we may go to the zoo which is open until 7 pm. The one good thing about having little ones is that budgeting only 2 hours for the zoo or any other museum or venture is realistic. We know we won’t see it all, but that’s ok, we know better than to try to.
Here’s one thing I just don’t get. The Old Courthouse near the Arch is where the Dred Scott decision was made. They are “commemorating” the 150th anniversary of this ruling. Why? I’m all for remembering just how stupid judges can be, lest we forget and make the same mistakes again. {Ah, who am I kidding? We don’t learn…and Roe v. Wade is proof.} But the air around the courthouse seems to make the Dred Scott ruling a cause for celebration.
Perhaps, someday, when my kids are all grown up, I’ll be able to stop in at exhibits like that and see why they want to keep the horrid memory alive. For now, though, I’ll offer up all my suffering for the conversion of those who consider other people to be of less worth than they. That may be the only thing that helps Jenny reach her fourth birthday.
From rain soaked Columbus, Ohio.
We had a lovely day at a local park with my brother, sister-in-law and niece before the deluge. My uncle and aunt even drove down from Louisville, Ohio to see us. I hadn’t seen my uncle and aunt since Peter’s baptism (they are his godparents), but I have been happiest to see my brother and his family. The last time I saw them was over three years ago when their daughter and Jenny were infants.
Our time here in Ohio is too short. We leave tomorrow for St. Louis, where we plan to spend four nights. I’m not sure if we’ll make it there with our sanity still intact. Jenny and Petey have been most out of sorts, and even the older kids are a bit…touchy. It’s a bit rough, emotionally, to be homeless, to not have your stuff, to not be able to run around like a lunatic since you’re living in a hotel and your parents think you ought to be respectful of other people who just might not be interested in your antics.
As for me, I miss my mattress terribly. I never sleep well on other beds. And it’s possible, with all the packing and hauling around of boxes and other things, that I pulled something in my back. I’m just not comfortable.
But despite the short tempers, the achy back, the clingy little ones, and the bickering older ones, I am enjoying this time together. I’m loving this adventure, where I have no forwarding address (yet), no schedule to keep, and minimal guilt about late bedtimes, late wakeups, and poor nutrition on the part of us all. It’s just one week, and we’ll be back to a new state of normal soon enough.
And as for all the little highlights of my life in the last three days – and there have been many interesting goings-on – I’ll never get all the details down, and won’t even try. We did manage to leave town without too much trouble (just a last minute discovery of two kitchen cupboards the packers overlooked!), and our drive to Ohio through that narrow section of Maryland between Pennsylvania and Virginia/West Virginia was picturesque and blessedly uneventful, although quite slow given that our van is towing our other car. Besides just hanging out with family, I had the pleasure of spending a few hours on Sarah‘s farm, which just happens to be a kids’ paradise: big yard, trampoline, toys, barn, livestock, minimal traffic, and bologna in the fridge. What more could a kid need?
It’s a top priority of mine to get Pete some naps while we’re in St. Louis. Hopefully, this will also give me a chance to do some blogging. We’ll see. Another top priority is actually using my camera. I want to kick myself that I didn’t get it out even once while seeing my family and have no pictures to prove that we actually spent time with my niece during her childhood. Of course, having a cranky toddler or a clingy preschooler constantly in my lap or pulling on my leg might have had something to do with distracting me from photo-journalistic opportunities.
And now, with all the kids and even the dog asleep, I head to bed myself.
Reit This Way 