Here’s a few pictures from Mother’s Day, as well as a trip to the play ground.
My grandmother, mom, sister, and our kids went to a Mother’s Day brunch at my home church in Somerset.
These are just from a trip to the playground one day at home. Abigail refused to pose for any individual shots, but we managed a cute one of the three of them, and some of the other two.
Okay, so I know it’s been a week, but I was waiting on my pictures to come back. So here’s the scoop on our day at the races.
We left at 5:00 a.m. because we had been warned of the traffic getting in, and to get there early if we wanted any kind of decent parking. We were there when the gates opened at 6:00, and ended up getting ushered right under the track to park in the infield tailgating lot! At first we were thrilled, thinking we had great spots. Then as we sat in our car preparing for the day and watched all the tents going up and blocking all the cars in, and the beer coming out and already flowing freely at 7:30, we started to wonder. But we weren’t daunted. We lathered up with sunscreen (I promise we did, no matter what you read later) and hopped out to go see the sights. Walking back under the track led us to the money-grabbers–I mean concession stands and souvenir stands. We got the required Indy 500 patch for Clay, rented some seat backs since our backs weren’t thrilled with the idea of sitting on bleachers for hours on end, and bought a program. Headed back to our car to plot our course for the rest of the day. There was lots of stuff going on at the other end of the track, but we decided not to walk down there. We wanted to get to our seats so we could watch all the ceremonial stuff on the screens. So we ended up in our seats by about 10:30, so early that they didn’t even check our tickets or our coolers, and Clay made it in with his prohibited glass bottle of root beer. While we sat there, watching the celebrities walk the red carpet on the screens, Clay snapped some shots of our view:
We were on the north end of the track, almost centered between turn 3 and turn 4. These four shots show our view from left to right. The cars and trucks that they used to drive all the important people around the track before the race (celebrities, military, pageant queens) were parked just across the dirt that you can see. The pits and the start/finish line were just around the curve of turn 4, just out of our sight.
This is us, pre-sunburn. Yes we got absolutely fried, 
despite three coatings of sunscreen. Our problem was from the knees down, and all we can guess is that the sun reflected off the bleachers and up to fry us. Anyway, we got to see all of the famous people get driven around the track in the Corvette pace cars, and the military in the red, white, and blue Chevy pickups, and hear Florence Henderson sing God Bless America, some Dancing with the Stars chick sing the Star-Spangled banner, see the fighter jets fly over from right behind us, and here Jim Neighbors sing the Indiana song with an incredible balloon release, and for some reason WordPress will not post my cool balloon picture. Finally we heard the words: Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines. Clay was a bit disappointed that we couldn’t hear the engines starting because of all the cheering. We had decided to root for the two Chip Genassi Target cars because Clay does pest control service at the Target racing building in Indy, although they don’t let him in the room with the cars, because he might steal their secrets! We didn’t try to take many pictures of the actual race because, well, quite frankly it’s hard to get a good shot of something travelling 222 miles an hour. But we got a couple, if you can make them out:
The first one shows the two Target cars in the lead. They stayed that way for a long time, until #10 finally dropped way back, but #9 held on and won the race!! So we won the tickets, and our guy won the race! How often does that happen!
We were definitely glad to have earplugs, especially when they were going full speed. But there were so many crashes or other problems that they drove a big chunk of the race under a yellow flag, which meant they had to go slower while the crews cleaned up the track. It wasn’t until right at the end that they went more than 10 or 12 laps at full speed, so the race as a whole wasn’t all that exciting. We watched our guy win, then fought the crowds back to our car, where we were blocked in by drunks for over an hour. We saw some very interesting sights during that time. We finally made it out of race traffic after two hours of sitting in the car, and were home by around 9:00, where we got a great report from Aunt Gertie on our girls’ day, which was the icing on the cake for ours.
We ended up being very very grateful for Aunt Gertie, because the sunburn on our shins must have had some poison in it. We woke up Monday and could barely hobble around because of the pain, and we were fire red and swollen up. Gertie ended up bravely loading up our van with her three kids plus our three and taking them all back to Somerset with her. Britani got drafted, along with Brooke and Bree some, to babysit for two days (Thanks!), and after two full days of laying on the couch with my feet propped up, I met Mom and Stacey in Louisville Thursday (a pre-planned trip) to reclaim my children. Our legs are some better, but Clay is still fire red and my legs and feet are still very swollen, six days later. So, we all had a great day Sunday, but there did end up being a cost to the trip after all. Hopefully we will continue to recuperate, but we’re still glad we went. Probably will never go again, but I’m glad I went once. Thanks again to Stacey and all the rest who helped care for my girls in Somerset!!!
No, Bessie, Mommy can’t hold you right now, I’ve got to clean up the lunch mess. Okay, okay, just a minute, don’t cry. I’ll hold you in just a minute. No, no, don’t pull all the wipes out of the box again. No, Bess, we don’t pull hair. Abigail, I know that hurt, but try to stop crying. Oops, Abigail, you forgot to push your chair in. Elisabeth, get down! No, no, don’t climb in the chair. No, don’t climb on the table. Elisabeth, come here! No, no, Bess, be gentle with the dog. We don’t try to hold his ears. Yes, I see you’ve got a little ball. No, no, don’t put it in your mouth. Uh-oh, Catherine! You forgot to close the bathroom door. No, no, Elisabeth, don’t climb on Catherine’s potty! No, don’t get the toothbrushes! Here, let Mommy have the toothbrush. Let’s go upstairs. You want to watch Mommy fold clothes? No, no, don’t start pulling everything out of the cabinet. Oops, that’s Daddy’s clippers, don’t need those! Nope, you can’t get in Mommy’s drawer either, don’t need that lotion. I know that made you mad but you may as well stop crying because I’m not going to give it to you. No, no, no, no don’t pull the……Elisabeth, you pulled all the T-shirts down in the floor that Mommy just folded! Now I have to fold them all again. Now, I’m going to clean the bathroom, you go play with Abba and Catherine. No, you just want to stay with me? Well, watch out of my way. No, quit playing with the toilet seat. No, no, Bess, don’t play with the toilet seat. Okay, I’ll hold the seat down with one hand and clean the tub with the other. I’m Supermom, I can do that, pregnant belly and all. Oops, let go for a minute. No, Elisabeth, get your hand out of the toilet water. Is it your naptime yet? No, thirty more minutes. Okay, let’s go in the other room and put Abigail and Catherine’s clothes away. No, no, don’t play with the CD player. Here, you want to play with the toy airplane? No, well, okay. Why don’t you go find your pup-pup? No, you’re just going to stay with me? What, Catherine? Oh, why didn’t you go to the potty! Let’s go clean you up. Elisabeth, you really don’t need to come in here with us. Okay, Catherine, let Mommy wipe you off. No, Bess, don’t help me! Shooey! Elisabeth! Don’t try to reach in the potty! Please please please go somewhere else!!! Okay, Catherine, you’re all clean. What time is it? Fifteen more minutes? You want an early nap today? Here’s your blankie and your pup-pup. Night night, Elisabeth. Take a nice, looooong nap!
The local Christian radio station sponsored a contest for Indy 500 tickets. You had to call in and give them a story about why you should get tickets. Clay decided to enter, even though neither one of us really care about the Indy 500. I’m not sure why he did, because neither one of us ever win anything like that. That kind of stuff happens to other people. But he did, and then he called me yesterday morning and told me to listen in at the drawing time to see if he won. I almost didn’t even do it, because I figured the chances were less than slim to none that he would win. Well, the winner at 8:30 was Mallory and I almost switched it off when I heard them say that they had drawn a winner at 7:30 and it was Clay who had said he wanted to be able to do something fun with his family!!! We still weren’t 100% sure until later in the morning when they called him to confirm. He actually won tickets to the Indy 500! So we called Somerset; if someone didn’t come up to stay with our kids we couldn’t go, but since it’s a holiday weekend, my sister said she could come. So we’re going! We’ll get a whole day just the two of us, and still have Monday to spend as a family. How cool is that! Now, if only we can all afford the gasoline to get us where we want to be….
When our first child was six months old, we moved from our hometown to Louisville, a little over 2 hours away. Going back and forth regularly, our little Abigail became quite the traveler. Then, the week before our second child’s first birthday, we moved north to our current home, which is about 5 1/2 hours from our hometown. Our trips back and forth became a little less frequent. However, we still pile in the van for a six hour trip one way more often than most families might. As a result, all three of our girls are really quite good at traveling. However, buckling kids into carseats for hours on end will tend to cause some chaos, no matter how well-seasoned they are.
In the spirit of honesty, as I try to be as honest as possible on this blog, the scenarios that follow are a culmination of several years of long car rides, and did not happen all on one trip. However, they did all happen to us at one time or another.
The Way I Wish Things Were:
In a dream world, we would leave for Somerset about ten in the morning, all pottied up and buckled in and happy to be going. Our girls would have their little stashes of books, Color Wonder markers (they don’t write on anything but the special paper), and baby dolls, that would be sufficient to entertain them for the whole trip. If they wanted something that the other had, they would work out a trade or sharing arrangement amicably and peacefully. They would have a little baggie of Goldfish or something and a little drink that would hold them over until lunch, and they would be completely satisfied with that. We would pop in a movie in our handy dandy DVD player, or a CD in the stereo, and that would result in their undivided attention being placed somewhere other than trying to talk to Mommy and Daddy. We wouldn’t hear a peep out of them until the first movie was over, at which point we would stop for lunch. The babies’ nursing schedules and nap schedules would of course coincide perfectly with our driving times and stop times. After lunch, we would repeat the previous patterns for part two of the ride, after which we would arrive safe and sound in Somerset, in time to rest or play awhile before supper, and then go to bed on time and get a full night’s rest. The whole thing would then happen in reverse on the way home a few days later.
The Way Things Really Are:
In reality, however, the above rarely happens. Most often, it is 4:00 or later before we get to head out on the road due to Daddy’s work schedule, so we’ve already put in a full day before even beginning the adventure called a road trip. We’re ready for supper before we’ve even gotten to Indy. We’ll get drive-through and head out, just in time to drive through downtown Indy during rush hour. We’re behind before we’ve really gotten started. We give the girls their stashes of entertainment, and they have their food and drink. But within ten minutes, they’ve dropped their “bugger” (as Abigail calls a burger) in the floor, or spilled their drink because they disobeyed and took the lid off anyway, or just hollered that they’re done after one bite, and now can they have a treat because they weren’t really hungry for chicken, they’re actually hungry for Cheeto’s.
Once the food issues are resolved, usually by us just saying, “Well, you know you should be more careful not to drop things; we’ll stop in a little while and you can pick it up or we’ll get you a snack,” then come the struggles with the “stuff.” When we drove a Ford Focus and the girls dropped their book or baby or blankie, I could reach it to give it back to them. In a mini-van, this is impossible. Yet after more than a year of riding in a van and being told, “Mommy can’t reach it, you’ll have to wait until we stop”, they still have a major crisis when they inevitably drop their things. Within minutes, the “stuff” is either in the floor or they “just don’t want to play with that right now, it’s kind of boring, you know.” So, then they start asking the age-old questions: “How much longer?” “Are we in Kentucky or still in Indiana?” “Can we have a few minutes to play when we get to Nanny’s?” “Are we there yet?” “Will Aunt Gertie be there?” “Can I have a snack?” “When will we stop?” After a few minutes of trying to holler back over the road noise and music, the DVD goes in–the one that is supposed to mesmerize them into silence for at least 70 minutes. This doesn’t work either. They suddenly need to narrate the journey to us: “Mom, did you see that blue truck?” “Daddy, that truck says UPS, that’s where you used to work!” “Elisabeth’s crying! (My personal favorite, as if we didn’t hear her ourselves.) Their little voices barely carry over the noise, so after several rounds of “What? What? WHAT?” we finally give up and say, “Mommy and Daddy can’t hear you. Don’t talk to Mommy and Daddy. Watch your movie. You can talk to us when we stop.” Hardly the loving attention a good parent would give their child.
What would help make the trips easier:
Clay and I have fantasized off and on about how to get from reality to dreamland. One thing that would really help is to have a sound-proof screen that can go up between the front and back of the van. When you’re on the road, there are so many times that you just can’t do anything about what is going on in the backseat unless you want to stop every fifteen minutes. When the requests and complaints, or just the noise, gets to be too much, just put the screen up. This would also be helpful when driving at night or naptime so Mommy and Daddy can talk without waking anyone up, or when the front and back sectors disagree on what music should be played. Our other miracle invention would be a long stick with another hand attached to it, to pick up all the stuff that gets dropped. Then our kids would get more than two bites of their supper, toys would get played with instead of ending up under seats for the next three months, pacifiers or sippy cups could be returned to baby, or we could even use it to take away that which has been fought over for the past twenty minutes, thereby restoring some order of peace. If anyone invents these things, please let me know. I’ll be glad to be your tester.
This is all just minor stuff, I realize, par for the course when driving with children. And yes, we do have stretches of relative peace. (If we didn’t, if it was constantly chaotic, I’m not sure we would make it home as often as we do.) But we have had some “bigger” moments over the years. Moments like the heart-stopping one driving down the Watterson Expressway in Louisville when Catherine was 9 months old and Abigail, suddenly but calmly, said, “Catherine’s standing up.” Turning around, I saw that she had managed to finagle her way out of her carseat buckle and was standing up in it looking out the back window. I am just thankful that Clay had the presence of mind to brake carefully and slowly, pulling over to the shoulder instead of slamming his brakes on in a knee-jerk reaction and sending her flying through the car. We’re old pros at that now; Catherine did it twice more before we finally switched her into a big girl carseat (early), and Elisabeth has already done it once. Then there are the fun times when Elliot the dog gets carsick. The first time we had absolutely nothing to clean it up with; Clay was not with us, it was just me and my mom and the girls. We had to stop at the nearest Target to buy towels, where I then got to clean up the mess and try to figure out how to work his fancy dog-halter-seatbelt thing all by myself. Lovely. Of course there will be times when diapers just don’t hold stuff in, which sometimes also requires a trip to Target for an unplanned new outfit! I won’t go into to details on that one. When the babies are young, they will absolutely refuse to nurse when we stop at the anticipated time, only to start screaming 20 minutes later, requiring yet another stop. There are even times, thankfully just one to date, when Mommy is driving to Somerset by herself, it’s pushing midnight, and yes, that thump was someone’s dog, cracking my front fender. Then there are the fun times when all the sudden Mommy or Daddy get sick, requiring an urgent and immediate pull-over. Again, no details here. Yes, pretty much anything can happen when you’re riding in cars with babies.
But as I said, it’s not always horrific. It is always chaotic. We have just learned to train our minds to expect nothing in the way of tranquility and smoothness, and just take everything in stride. When we accept that there probably will be moments when all three kids are crying at the same time (have you ever heard that in a van? It’s deafening.), and when we let go of the assumption that they will sleep, no matter what time of day we’re traveling, then the moments of good behavior take us by surprise and we count it a successful journey. So, for all of you who ask us every time we’re in town how soon we’ll be back, please remember this post. (That shouldn’t be hard; it’s ended up being almost as long as our trips.) It is no simple matter to come home for a weekend. We love you and we’d love to see more of you, but….riding in cars with babies is not for the faint of heart.
