#141 In which our hero discusses his weekend.

So, the 4th of July trip: a success!

The girls were absolute champs. It’s an eight hour drive, and I had visions of having to stop every hour just to stop the screaming and to let daddy punch a tree or something to vent, but it wasn’t like that at all. We had the portable DVD player set up with EVERY kids DVD we own, and we dosed both girls with Benadryl before we left. The drugs didn’t knock them out like predicted, but maybe it kept them on an even keel. Dunno.

In the best of cases it’s a long-ass trip, but we hit congestion crossing the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, which added 45 minutes or so. Ugh, I hate that bridge. It freaks me out. Every time I drive across it (which, granted, isn’t more than once a year, at best) I can’t help looking over the edge to the water waaaay down below. It seems like there’s only a very thin guardrail between me and a plummeting death. I mean, look at this monster:

Don't look down.

Gives me the willies just looking at it. It’s even worse at night. And, naturally, one of the two bridges was closed when we got there (thus the back-up) meaning that I was driving with on-coming traffic blinding me with their headlights. Scary.

But, obviously we got there in one piece. The girls were even reasonably close to their normal schedules. The big party/family reunion thing on Saturday went very well. It was sunny, and not even disgustingly hot with the breeze. There were hard crabs aplenty, and ribs and corn and chicken and beer and just about everything you need to stuff your face on a fine summer day.

"Eat me."

The aftermath.

I don’t know The Scientist’s extended family that well, but I chatted with those I did know, and got to know a few others better. All in all, just about everyone is really nice. Some of my family, specifically, my mom and middle sister (and her husband and their two kids) came too. You may recall that this is the sister that has issue with The Scientist. So, I think she was predisposed to not enjoy the trip, and the fact that they got stuck on the Bay Bridge for an hour and they didn’t know anyone at the party… well, I haven’t talked to her yet, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t have a good time. Shrug.

And speaking of not having a good time… even though Macey was great getting there, she wasn’t having a good time once she got there. The poor thing has more teeth coming in, and they are clearly hurting her. So, Saturday night she woke up screaming at 2:30AM. Being that The Scientist trashed her back carrying our rotund bundle of joy all day at the party, I sat up with the baby and kept her entertained. Until 5AM when she finally dropped off.

And so it went, pretty much the entire weekend. She would be happy and playing one moment, screaming bloody murder the next. I felt bad for her, but other than the regular shots of Tylenol, there wasn’t much we could do.

But, clingy and screamy, she was still a hit at the party. As was her sister. They are both fat kids, and big for their size, with curly red hair. And, naturally, cute as hell. When people remark on their cuteness, I’m always at a bit of a loss as what to say. I mean, if someone were to say, “That’s a really cute outfit” I could say, “Why, thanks. I picked that out myself!” But it’s not like The Scientist and I styled our kids before the party… we pretty much rolled the genetic dice and got some good-looking kids. They could just as easily been ugly. And might grow up to be ugly yet. And even though The Scientist and I both have red hair, she can tell you how hair color is a multi-genomial trait or somesuch, and that, again, we just got lucky that they have red hair. But mostly, I just say “thank you” because that seems to be the expected response. It’s like when people tell me that my wife is pretty. “Um, thanks, I picked her out myself!”

The kids were just as good on the way home as the way there, with Macey sleeping several hours. A pretty relaxed trip, even if we had to listen to Little Einsteins Team Up for Adventure! a dozen fucking times. Ugh, I’ll never beat that theme song out of my skull. But it did provide for some fun for The Scientist and me as we MST3K’d what we could hear.

What’s up with Quincy and his “I cannot believe it!” ? He doesn’t believe anything. If I was Leo, I’d conduct his ass right out of Rocket.

You’re going to quiet a volcano with your flute? You read that in a book, genius?

I bet Leo lets June play with his baton, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, we kicked back and relaxed on Tuesday. It was nice to have a day to decompress after the big trip. And now, we’re back to school and work and the 16 hours in the car area distant memory.

Except for that damn theme song.