Vacation, Etc.
Oooooh. I haven't caught up with my friends list in a while (or my friends either for that matter). It's nice to see that everyone is still chugging along. I owe a friend a letter because she sent me some of my wedding pictures, but I haven't gotten around to that just yet. (BTW "friend" those pics were really horrid. LOL I really, really need to find that gown and set it aflame!)
There's not much new on my end. Got my Associates degree and re-enrolled in the Bachelor program so what I’ve done for the last two years will be what I continue to do for the next two: eat, sleep, work, do homework, eat, sleep, work, do homework, over and over again. Never has a human being been so busy and so bored at the same time.
To break the monotony we just returned from a two week trip to Houston. In short, it was hot and buggy. The trip started out on a somewhat sour note, but we survived it.
We're driving to Texas because the number 1 rule of vacations is "Dawn doesn't fly." Ok? Ok. Yes, three days in a minivan in July with 2 kids wasn't going to be pretty but ... Dawn doesn't fly. So....
A few days before we're due to leave I start to become extraordinarily concerned about the amount of luggage. There's a crazy amount of clothing, the kids need things to keep them entertained, etc. In a moment of near perfect genius I come up with a plan. We will package the suitcases with what we need for the 5 day stay in Houston, put them up in the turtle, and for the 3 days it takes to get there from Virginia I will pack an assortment of duffle bags. Each person gets a duffel/gym/tote bag for the night. Then, instead of dragging 150 pounds of luggage through the hotel for a 12 hour stay, everyone can grab their pre-assigned duffel bag which contains jammies, a change of clothes for the morning, and anything else one might night for an overnight stay. Three days on the road time four people equals 12 duffels (which I would repack before we head home). Well, ok, that's too many duffels. I decide the boys can share and that drops us to nine. Cool!
The next problem was figuring out what to do with personal items. I didn't want to have to remember to move everyone’s toothbrush etc. from one bag to the next, and I didn't want to have to go out and buy everyone three toothbrushes. So I came up with the idea of the "bathroom bag." The bathroom bag had it all baby: toothbrushes, everyone's favorite toothpaste, makeup, curling iron, hairspray, medicine, shampoo, bubble bath, deodorant, etc. I explained the entire master plan to Grant. Every night we grab 3 duffels (him, me, the boys) AND the bathroom bag and we'll be all set. The next time we grab the next three duffels, and the bathroom bag. The bathroom bag goes everywhere and we'll never be without.
He says "Great idea. No problem."
Over the course of the weekend I get the house in perfect shape. Not a sock unlaundered, not a cup unwashed. I make sure everyone's bed is made and the rooms are perfect and make my final rounds upstairs before declaring it off limits. The only thing left to take downstairs is the bathroom bag, but Grant is shaving. How much longer is he going to be? Not long. Ok, don't forget to put your stuff in the bathroom bag. He won't.
In the middle of the pristine room at the foot of our huge, waist-high king-sized bed with a black comforter, I leave the tacky white and pink somewhat bowling bagish looking, yet ever so sacred, Bathroom Bag open to receive his razor, etc. and go downstairs to see to the boys.
Thirty minutes later I’m standing at the rear of the van watching my beloved toss bags this way and that when I happen to spy his little 4” x 8” shaving kit and point at it with long finger. “What … is THAT.” He blinks and looks. “My shaving kit!” No kidding. “Yeah, and what it is doing there?” Oh here it comes, I can see him mentally rolling his eyes. “I’m going to put it in the bag.” “The Bathroom Bag?” “Yes,” he says. “Did you bring it downstairs?” I ask, like he’s a four year old. “Yes!” “Ok,” I tell him, “Make sure you take care of it.”
Finally, the van is loaded. We double check everything, make sure the doors are locked, set the GPS, etc. “Did you get the Bathroom Bag?” “Yes!” Ok then, we’re set. 6 hours later we arrive in Bristol, Tennessee and everyone is pretty much worn out and looking forward to dinner. We gather up the toys and snacks that the boys have scattered around the van, grab the night’s duffel bags and head upstairs. When it’s time for the boys to get settled down I instruct the 12 year old to go brush his teeth and dig out pajamas for the 4 year old. “Ok,” he says, “Where’s my toothbrush?” I say “It’s in the Bathroom Bag, ask Daddy.” And this … this … is when I see Grant’s confused face. “Honey …” I say, with an unintended warning tone in my voice. “Where’s the Bathroom Bag?”
My hand to God, my husband had the unmitigated gall to look at me incredulously and say “What bathroom bag??”
I thought … my head … would blow …off … my … neck.
“WHAT BATHROOM BAG????”
He had no idea what I was talking about. When I pointed out that we had discussed it that very morning no less than three times he said he thought I was talking about his shaving kit. When I said that I told him to put his shaving stuff in the Bathroom Bag and asked if he remembered me discussing the whole thing with him several times before then he said “Yeah, but I didn’t really understand what you were talking about.”
I wanted to literally rip the skin off my face. I mean God forbid he should ask???
Through gritted teeth I told the kids to get dressed again. We were going out in search of a drug store. Grant came too and apologized the whole way, but it was still too early. I wasn’t over the shock yet and I knew if I said a single word it was going to be rabid so I said nothing.
We found a CVS and I mentally ran through the contents of the Bathroom Bag, picking a replacement for each item. When I was done there were a couple of things I couldn’t find, but none that were imperative. The final tally? $172.
And now my bathrooms are cluttered with a dozen toothbrushes, at least 4 open tubes of toothpaste, 3 curling irons, a full pound of makeup, etc.
Though the Houston trip ended the monotony, the problem is that it usually comes crashing back once one returns from vacation. So my hubby, on the occasion of my 39th birthday (last Friday, the 14th, by the way) decided to get me a new laptop. In spite of the fact that my current one is only about a year and a half old I’ve commented on occasion that it isn’t powerful enough graphic card and RAM-wise to play to the games he plays like City of Heroes. I also apparently said that I would have liked to have played World of Warcraft (which he doesn’t play), but that my computer wasn’t strong enough for that either and he remembered. To replace my little Compaq he got me a big hairy HP with 2GB of RAM, dual core processors, BrightView widescreen display, and 128MB of memory on an NVIDIA GeForce graphics card, etc. He tricked it with LightScribe and all AND … World of Warcraft ::glee!!!:: So for the last two days I’ve been all about what character should I play? What race? What server should I choose? :)
So I’ve been waiting and waiting for the Fed Ex guy to come with my machine so I can make Grant a WoW widower. :D
It’s amazing what a great gift will do.
Bathroom bag? What’s a bathroom bag?
There's not much new on my end. Got my Associates degree and re-enrolled in the Bachelor program so what I’ve done for the last two years will be what I continue to do for the next two: eat, sleep, work, do homework, eat, sleep, work, do homework, over and over again. Never has a human being been so busy and so bored at the same time.
To break the monotony we just returned from a two week trip to Houston. In short, it was hot and buggy. The trip started out on a somewhat sour note, but we survived it.
We're driving to Texas because the number 1 rule of vacations is "Dawn doesn't fly." Ok? Ok. Yes, three days in a minivan in July with 2 kids wasn't going to be pretty but ... Dawn doesn't fly. So....
A few days before we're due to leave I start to become extraordinarily concerned about the amount of luggage. There's a crazy amount of clothing, the kids need things to keep them entertained, etc. In a moment of near perfect genius I come up with a plan. We will package the suitcases with what we need for the 5 day stay in Houston, put them up in the turtle, and for the 3 days it takes to get there from Virginia I will pack an assortment of duffle bags. Each person gets a duffel/gym/tote bag for the night. Then, instead of dragging 150 pounds of luggage through the hotel for a 12 hour stay, everyone can grab their pre-assigned duffel bag which contains jammies, a change of clothes for the morning, and anything else one might night for an overnight stay. Three days on the road time four people equals 12 duffels (which I would repack before we head home). Well, ok, that's too many duffels. I decide the boys can share and that drops us to nine. Cool!
The next problem was figuring out what to do with personal items. I didn't want to have to remember to move everyone’s toothbrush etc. from one bag to the next, and I didn't want to have to go out and buy everyone three toothbrushes. So I came up with the idea of the "bathroom bag." The bathroom bag had it all baby: toothbrushes, everyone's favorite toothpaste, makeup, curling iron, hairspray, medicine, shampoo, bubble bath, deodorant, etc. I explained the entire master plan to Grant. Every night we grab 3 duffels (him, me, the boys) AND the bathroom bag and we'll be all set. The next time we grab the next three duffels, and the bathroom bag. The bathroom bag goes everywhere and we'll never be without.
He says "Great idea. No problem."
Over the course of the weekend I get the house in perfect shape. Not a sock unlaundered, not a cup unwashed. I make sure everyone's bed is made and the rooms are perfect and make my final rounds upstairs before declaring it off limits. The only thing left to take downstairs is the bathroom bag, but Grant is shaving. How much longer is he going to be? Not long. Ok, don't forget to put your stuff in the bathroom bag. He won't.
In the middle of the pristine room at the foot of our huge, waist-high king-sized bed with a black comforter, I leave the tacky white and pink somewhat bowling bagish looking, yet ever so sacred, Bathroom Bag open to receive his razor, etc. and go downstairs to see to the boys.
Thirty minutes later I’m standing at the rear of the van watching my beloved toss bags this way and that when I happen to spy his little 4” x 8” shaving kit and point at it with long finger. “What … is THAT.” He blinks and looks. “My shaving kit!” No kidding. “Yeah, and what it is doing there?” Oh here it comes, I can see him mentally rolling his eyes. “I’m going to put it in the bag.” “The Bathroom Bag?” “Yes,” he says. “Did you bring it downstairs?” I ask, like he’s a four year old. “Yes!” “Ok,” I tell him, “Make sure you take care of it.”
Finally, the van is loaded. We double check everything, make sure the doors are locked, set the GPS, etc. “Did you get the Bathroom Bag?” “Yes!” Ok then, we’re set. 6 hours later we arrive in Bristol, Tennessee and everyone is pretty much worn out and looking forward to dinner. We gather up the toys and snacks that the boys have scattered around the van, grab the night’s duffel bags and head upstairs. When it’s time for the boys to get settled down I instruct the 12 year old to go brush his teeth and dig out pajamas for the 4 year old. “Ok,” he says, “Where’s my toothbrush?” I say “It’s in the Bathroom Bag, ask Daddy.” And this … this … is when I see Grant’s confused face. “Honey …” I say, with an unintended warning tone in my voice. “Where’s the Bathroom Bag?”
My hand to God, my husband had the unmitigated gall to look at me incredulously and say “What bathroom bag??”
I thought … my head … would blow …off … my … neck.
“WHAT BATHROOM BAG????”
He had no idea what I was talking about. When I pointed out that we had discussed it that very morning no less than three times he said he thought I was talking about his shaving kit. When I said that I told him to put his shaving stuff in the Bathroom Bag and asked if he remembered me discussing the whole thing with him several times before then he said “Yeah, but I didn’t really understand what you were talking about.”
I wanted to literally rip the skin off my face. I mean God forbid he should ask???
Through gritted teeth I told the kids to get dressed again. We were going out in search of a drug store. Grant came too and apologized the whole way, but it was still too early. I wasn’t over the shock yet and I knew if I said a single word it was going to be rabid so I said nothing.
We found a CVS and I mentally ran through the contents of the Bathroom Bag, picking a replacement for each item. When I was done there were a couple of things I couldn’t find, but none that were imperative. The final tally? $172.
And now my bathrooms are cluttered with a dozen toothbrushes, at least 4 open tubes of toothpaste, 3 curling irons, a full pound of makeup, etc.
Though the Houston trip ended the monotony, the problem is that it usually comes crashing back once one returns from vacation. So my hubby, on the occasion of my 39th birthday (last Friday, the 14th, by the way) decided to get me a new laptop. In spite of the fact that my current one is only about a year and a half old I’ve commented on occasion that it isn’t powerful enough graphic card and RAM-wise to play to the games he plays like City of Heroes. I also apparently said that I would have liked to have played World of Warcraft (which he doesn’t play), but that my computer wasn’t strong enough for that either and he remembered. To replace my little Compaq he got me a big hairy HP with 2GB of RAM, dual core processors, BrightView widescreen display, and 128MB of memory on an NVIDIA GeForce graphics card, etc. He tricked it with LightScribe and all AND … World of Warcraft ::glee!!!:: So for the last two days I’ve been all about what character should I play? What race? What server should I choose? :)
So I’ve been waiting and waiting for the Fed Ex guy to come with my machine so I can make Grant a WoW widower. :D
It’s amazing what a great gift will do.
Bathroom bag? What’s a bathroom bag?