11:18 p.m.

[ I be back ]

Well, I'm back.

From the second worst family trip of my life. So bad we came home a day early.

The babies did really well on the trip out, eight hours of being stuck in the car and not so much as a peep unless they got the hungries. My SIL was at my MIL's house when we got there. This time she didn't launch her usual barrage of hints to see where I stand spiritually, she came out and asked me directly how I felt about homosexuality.

The discussion revolved around this new school that just opened up in her area that her son has been accepted into. She didn't intend to let him go to school, but homeschool because there are some school systems now that teach about same sex parents or have gay teachers. I didn't think before I spoke. Perhaps I should have.

My answer: I don't have anything against gay people. Live and let live. The only problem I'd have is with a school system trying to explain something to my child I'd rather explain at home, because unless they come from a parent with a same sex partner, most little kids aren't able to process that information yet.

My SIL stood there agape.

Well, she fucking asked.

Now I guess in addition to being the liberal SIL I will also be known as the fag-loving SIL. I'm okay with that. She's a lovely person basically but on this issue and other issues of perspective or spirituality we will agree to disagree.

So after I got finished offending my SIL not a lot happened Saturday night. Zoe and Trent were freaked out by the break in their routine and the new environment. Zoe expressed this by screaming every time someone got close to her and finished off the evening with a pukefest. She splashed herself, Larry, the bed we were going to be sleeping on (only a little), and a small section of floor. Trent expressed this by acting like he was wired into his own personal espresso drip. He finally fell asleep around midnight. Zoe passed out from exhaustion around 2:20. Fortunately for us they both woke up by 7:30 on Sunday morning.

The rest of the trip went much the same and the kids, consistant as ever, maintained their new bedtime routine. By last night the two of us were so wasted we could barely move. Literally, considering the bed we were sharing with Trent While Zoe slept in a toddler bed wedged between our bed and the dresser, was a double. Not made for three people, especially not one like Larry who is over six feet tall (yup, I may be a mere wisp of a girl, but I like my men big, people). The lower half of his legs dangled off the end of the bed. Trent's various pointy parts gauged our backs all night long. We kept our backs to him because to face that little jumble of knees and elbows is to condemn one's self to a night-long series of kicks to the belly and the nether regions that this girl personally doesn't care for.

I'm senstive, dammit.

I was apprehensive about staying at my MIL's house anyway because I remembered my hubby saying that for years, every time he visited his family he'd be depressed for six months afterward. The things they do upset him and he feels a genuine sense of disconnection to them, as if they're not his. I said nothing, however, because we were saving at least three hundred dollars in hotel fees by staying with my MIL. The two of us decided that the next time we're more than happy to put out the three hundred bucks that will help us get a decent night's sleep.

Here are some finer points of the trip:

* My MIL can't get around as well as she used to so there wasn't much done in the way of cleaning. My asthma (and allergies), and the kids' allergies acted up something fierce.

* We started a load of laundry because of Zoe's repeatedly working herself up into a good barf attack. While we were gone my MIL put Downy in our clothes. Larry and I are both allergic to fabric softener. We rewashed the clothes but think a second Downy bomb may have inadvertantly been released in them as well because they feel a bit greasy and we can still smell the Downy scent. I personally don't mind the scent, it's actually quite nice. My skin however, objects most strenuously. She was trying to help so we didn't say anything, other than to politely let her know we can't use fabric softener. The clothes themselves are on their third wash.

* Zoe's eczema started becoming worse. She developed more red, itchy spots than usual and was constantly digging at her skin, which was not only broken out, but was torn open from her scratching. Upon closer inspection we decided that the playpen liner, which had gone through two babies but never been washed, was the reason.

* My MIL is very proud of my BIL's children. I'm happy for her, she's a wonderful, caring grandparent who lives for the silly little things those two boys do and for the most part I enjoyed hearing about their first words and misadventures. But she talked of little else for the whole three days we were there. After about two days I wanted to scream. Larry did too.

* Larry started to feel depressed. He said he thought that after all of this time things had changed (we only started keeping contact with his family a year ago because of his issues with them), but they haven't and he was so stressed out from that and from lack of sleep he had me seriously worried. He ended up with a migraine that was so intense it made him feel nauseous. That's when we decided to come home.

But wait, there's more...

On the trip home, which took longer than planned because we traveled through five storms and got stuck in some major traffic, Zoe puked in her car seat. This was two hours into the trip, which left us with over six more hours to enjoy the after affects. For those of you without kids, that's what we refer to as a crowd pleaser, because much like a poopy diaper, the fragrance can be enjoyed by many. I cleaned it up as best I could but the car seat has a fabric liner so it kind of sunk in.

It was unbearably hot. SC is, as it's name implies, in the south. The humidity was 96.4%. Opening the car door was like being slapped in the face with a wet towel. This intensified the lingering stench of baby vomit every time the car was stopped for a few minutes.

When we got home it was discovered that the three days' supply of vacation fish food my mom was supposed to give Moby on Monday (I had given her three on Saturday morning), were still sitting on my kitchen counter because we had forgotten to give her the new key when we changed the locks a few weeks ago. Thankfully, I did not come home to a goldfish doing the belly-up. She was hungry as hell, though. And I think she was actually happy to see me.

Some good things did happen on the trip though. We ate some really wonderful BBQ. My MIL fixed us two delicious dinners. For future reference, I discovered that even though my ass felt wet after using my MIL's bathroom, it was really just cold because the A/C vent is right next to the potty.

In spite of the fact that I loathe the twerpy fucking video for Avril Lavigne's new song, Complicated, I bought the CD based on the good things I read about it in ScaryFate's journal. I love the song, which has been replaying in my head for the last week. I don't think she really plays that guitar though, which is a bit disappointing. Anyway, a few minutes later I had a rather amusing moment when I was in line with a box of Trent's favorite snacks and it occurred to me; here I am, buying a box of Little Debbies in a Super Wal-Mart in Lumberton North Carolina. In an oversized tee shirt and smelling vaguely of upchuck.

Define Redneck.

The best part is, we get to go back in November for thanksgiving. The next time, however, we'll be lodging at the Holiday Inn, home of the really dark room my kids will actually sleep in and tasty free coffee.

That reminds me, my MIL has an unusual way of making coffee. She still uses a percolator, which is fine. Fuckface had one and the coffee was always good. Hers is the waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay old model that you have to heat on the stove to get things working. Not a problem, it only takes a few minutes and you get some nice strong coffee from it. And I do mean strong. It hopped up out of the cup and bitch slapped me while I was trying to wrestle some aspartame into it. It was also instant. I've never seen anyone go to the trouble of making instant coffee in a coffee maker. Truly unusual. That coffee beat my ass and made me like it though.

I'm off to bed. I promised my sweetie he could sleep in tomorrow while I get up with the kiddies. What the hell was I thinking?