Well, it all actually turned out okay:

But I still don’t want to do it again anytime soon.

I left Dan with the kiddos and flew to Dallas to join my very best girl friends.  Where we all participated in a half-marathon.

Several ran her first half.  One her last half.  One her second half.  And, two spectated (which, in the weather we had, was harder than running!)

We also managed to fit in some Tex-Mex, good beer, pasta, margaritas, more Tex-Mex and some wine.

Despite the very crappy, cold, wet weather, I could not have had a better time!

Thanks, girls!

This time, with the long weekend, we chose to stay for two nights.  With all the work we have to put into assembling and dismantling the tent, I thought it would only be worth it to go for a little longer.  Of course, our camp neighbors probably didn’t think so.  Maybe next time we should camp in the true wilderness so the kids can scream their fool heads off without constantly being shushed by us.

We headed north on Saturday as soon as Maria’s soccer game was over (hers was the last of the day).  The drive should have only been about 2 hours, but the kids needed a pit stop.

Facing a stop, Maria announced that she forgot to bring SHOES.  I promise you I am not lying.  She really forgot to bring shoes.  ANY shoes.  (Don’t ask how this happens.  We already tried.  It absolutely boggles the mind.)

Dan and I started to get a little nervous, as daylight was running out quickly and we still had 30 minutes to go.  Thankfully, we found a Wal-mart right on our way and I made the fastest trip in and out ever.

We arrived at the campground with just enough daylight left to pitch our tent and get a fire started.  The first night we roasted hotdogs and then made s’mores.  With a longer stay, we had to cook more on this trip (a little easier said than done).  We had the necessary sundries and the right equipment, but not quite the finesse.  I made a “Mountain Man” breakfast Sunday morning – essentially an egg, sausage, cheese and hash browns casserole.  It was good.  Except for the burnt parts.  Thankfully, I also brought refrigerated dough and was able to fry up some doughnuts for the kids.  Now those were a hit!

The rest of Sunday was spent at the beach and on the dunes.  A Caribbean vacation it wasn’t, but the weather was absolutely perfect.  The sky was as clear and as blue as the water.  The kids had a blast.

A shovel and sand. It's all he needs.

The princess tests the water

Dan and Luke running down the dune

Loving it!

Yes, he's eating sand.

In Lake Michigan. In October.

We returned to our campsite for a cold-cut lunch and a nap for Andrew.  Dan and the big kids headed back to the beach and I tidied up and started preparing for dinner:  Beef Stroganoff.  It was great.  Except for the burnt parts.  For dessert, I made raspberry cobbler (We’d had it at the Garcia’s cabin when we were in Utah and it was excellent.)  I managed to do it right and it was a huge hit – with everyone.  No burnt parts

On Monday morning, we woke early and I fixed Beignets for breakfast, which just might have been the highlight of the whole trip! ( I would have snapped a picture, but they were gone as soon as I turned my back.)

After stuffing our faces, we packed up our campsite and went on a hike.  It was a short hike, and we found ourselves at the top of a dune, facing the lake.  Another perfect, beautiful, clear day.  I took a few pictures (I’m forever hopeful that way) and we headed back.

A long trail for such a little boy.

Love seeing them together.

Do they look alike to you?

NOT Christmas card worthy.

On the way back, we took a small detour to check out another trail and then promptly got lost.  Really.  I couldn’t make this stuff up.  Dan and Jack and I all had differing opinions (imagine that) about which direction we should go.  After trying several different options, I pulled out my iPhone.  It showed us exactly where we were.  Too bad it didn’t help, as it didn’t know where we had left the van.

Just when Maria was starting to worry about having to eat twigs and leaves and Luke was at the height of his tick obsession, (I had found one crawling on him earlier) we found our way back to the path that led us to our van.  Whew!

We couldn't possibly feed twigs to this cutie.

We made it home safe and sound on Monday afternoon.  And slept well in our own beds.

I’m still doing laundry.

“It’s a marathon,” she told me.

OH.

Well, how was I supposed to know?  I wasn’t a runner, and athlete, of any kind.  The most I did was try to kill myself in Wendy’s power lift class at the Y, or mosey along for a while on the eliptical.   (I’ll be honest:  I needed the free daycare more than I cared about any workout.)  At some point my friend Kristina (who had run a marathon!) suggested we run a race of some kind.  I don’t really remember what it was… maybe the zoo 5K?  I entertained the idea for a couple of days before deciding getting pregnant (again) would be less excruciating.

Pregnant.  A great excuse to be a sloth.

So as to keep this novel short(er), I’ll fast-forward a few years to a different city, another baby, and more sloth.

This city?  Runners.  EVERYWHERE.  It’s what people do here.  (Weird, I know.)

Dan joined the local running club (he’s always been a runner) and last year ran his first half-marathon.  I was impressed, but not so impressed that I was going to brave the elements and the children to cheer him on or anything.  (Yes, yes.  Wife of the year here.)

Several of the moms I’m friends with are also runners.  They’d pull up in their vans with their 13.1 stickers and then chat in the parking lot about their running and their races.  “You should join us!” They’d tell me.  “We run at 5:30, before anyone is up.” 

?!?

I was starting to think I needed other friends.  I mean, who the hell gets up at o’dark thirty to RUN?

Then, around Christmastime, Dan and I went to a running club Christmas party.  I was a fish out of water, but it was at my friend Anne’s house (one of the 5:30 a.m. crazies), and I liked having an excuse to get a babysitter and get out of the house for a few hours with Dan.  Plus, despite what you might think, runners like beer.

During the party, Anne and I snuck off to chat and somewhere in that chat was mention of The Shamrock Shuffle.  An 8K race in downtown Chicago.  “There are a bunch of us doing it,” she told me.  “You should do it, too.  It’s really fun.”

Well, I must have been over-served that night, ’cause I actually gave it a three-second thought.  And then, of course, dismissed it.

But, every time I saw one of these crazies ladies, they’d mention the race and what fun it was going to be.  They were sure I could do it.  They could give me a training program.  I should just try.  No one would care if I just walked.  Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah.

Well, one night I was drinking a beer with Dan and talking about it with him.  I looked the race up on the web and checked out the registration information.  “Do it,” he told me.  “Sign up!”

And, I caved.  I figured I could try the training and if I hated it, I’d just back out of the race.

But, I didn’t back out.  I trained by myself on a treadmill (this Texas chick hates the cold), at a reasonable hour of the morning (this chick also loves sleeping), at the Y (every treadmill has a TV).  And, before I knew it, there were a bunch of us headed to the city at o’dark thirty, to run some crazy race.

It was a BLAST.

After that race, I kept running.  But, instead of on the treadmill, I ran with the crazies, VERY early in the morning, cold or not.  And that’s where they really got me.

“You should run the half with us,” they said.

“Hahahahahahahahaha,” I said.

“No, really.  We did it last year and we’re going to do it again this year.  It’s really not that hard.”

Something must happen to your brain when you run, because eventually, I found myself saying yes.  Me.  Running 13.1 miles.  When, in March I’d run the first mile I’d run in… 10 years?

As far as training, I ran when my friends did, as far as they did.  I listened to their tips on running, stretching, reading and eating.

And then, suddenly, it was time for the Chicago Half Marathon.

I was looking forward to it, not so much for the race (which had me nervous) but for the fancy accommodations and girl-time.  Becky (the other crazy)’s cousin has a fancy condo in a downtown high-rise and was letting us have it for the night before the race.  So, on Saturday, we left the kids with the hubbies and drove to the city.  We visited the expo, where we picked up our race packets and bought some “must-have” paraphernalia, and then lounged around the condo waiting for the rest of our group to join us.  (There were 6 of us.)  Once they arrived, we all made dinner, enjoyed a glass of wine, indulged in cake pops and cookies, and watched a movie.

View from the kick-ass accommodations

Mmmmmm. Cake pops!

We were up at 4 the next morning and on the train, headed for the race, by 5:30.

It was GREAT.  So many people, so much energy.  Music, signs, team shirts…

The race started at 7, and for me, it was all over 2 hours, 19 minutes and 15 seconds later.

Me.  The non-runner.  The non-early riser.

I think I have a new addiction.  Already, I’m signed up for a 10K in October, a 15K in November, and my favorite, another half marathon in December.

That half will be in Dallas, where my best friends from high school are getting together to run, walk or cheer.  It’ll be a great run, but a better reunion!  Michelle (one of the group) is currently recovering from extensive surgery, but will be out running and training again soon.  Running that half will be a huge victory.

Crazy.

It looks good, don’tcha think?

So, I’ve made up my own challenge for the weekend:  Hair.

Isn’t it beautiful?!?  Maria spent the night with a friend on Friday and her friend’s mom braided her hair the next morning.  I LOVE it.  Too bad she’ll never have it like this again, seeing as a) I can’t braid; and b) Maria screams when I even pretend to touch her hair.

While on the subject of Maria, I spent a gorgeous afternoon with her and Andrew today.  Not enjoying the weather, bike riding, skating, or doing some other outdoor activity.  No… my little reader wanted the newest Wimpy Kid book.  She’d been asking for a while and since her Dad said “yes,” I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a trip to Target.

Problem was, our Target is apparently doing something new with their book section and there were very few books out.  No Wimpy Kid ones.  We asked, but the salesperson didn’t have a clue.  So, off to Barnes & Noble we went.  Very, very slowly.  The highway to B&N was under construction and down to one lane.  Ugh!  It took us FOREVER to get just a few miles.

Then, when we reached the store, the parking lot was packed full.  Fine.  I didn’t mind walking, and Maria was determined to have her book.  I parked a few miles away, opened the back of my van to retrieve the stroller and found… No stroller.  Shit.  That meant I had to carry Andrew across the parking lot and through the gigantic bookstore AND figure out how I was going to use the bathroom while there (Diet Dr. Pepper habit, you know.)  I couldn’t just set him down, as he was barefoot.

We trekked across the lot, into the store, up the escalator and wandered until we found the restrooms.  Once inside, I gave Andrew to Maria to hold and peed as fast as I could.  (Andrew is getting awfully big for her to handle for very long.)  We survived the experience in tact and headed to the “Young Readers” section of the store.

“But I’m not young,” Maria says.

“Yes, you are,” I say.

“No, I’m not!” She tells me.

“Yes, you are,” I tell her.  “You are certainly not old.  You are still a child.  A ‘Young Reader’.  See, (I pointed to the books she was familiar with) we are in the right section.”

She proceeded to tell me the author’s last name and we found two Wimpy Kid books, but not the right one.  We wondered around the entire kids’ section, thinking there might be a Wimpy Kid display with some more books.  And, we found some, but not the right one.

So, I headed over to the computer to do a search.  (Andrew was squirming violently at this point, but there was NO WAY I was letting him down.)  Maria told me that the name of the new book is “Cabin Fever” and I pecked it into the keyboard. After correcting several mistakes (it’s not easy to type one-handed with a squirming child on your hip) I hit “search”.

And the results appeared:  “Coming in November 2011.  Reserve your copy today!”

“MARIA!!!” I said somewhat exasperatedly.  “It’s not even OUT yet!  We have been on a total wild goose chase!!!”

“Oops,” she said.  “I didn’t know.  Let’s just get a different book, then!”

Despite one less child in the car, the ride home was not one bit quieter.  The kids in the back had a little more space, but I think they just used it to get more acceleration behind their punches.

We’ve talked to Jack a couple of times and he’s as happy as a clam.  I’m pretty sure Grandma is spoiling the shit out of him.  He’s also getting time with his cousins and one of his uncles is taking a bunch of the boys camping later in the week.  He’s NEVER going to want to come home!

Last night, after I talked to him a bit, I asked him if he wanted to talk to Dad.  “Yes,” he said, “but can I please talk to Maria first?”  Sooooooo sweet!  Dan got his turn once Maria was finished.  Then, Jack surprised me by calling again this morning.  Did he miss me?  Want to talk to me?  No.  He wanted to talk to Luke about the cool new Lego set he was bringing home to share.  He also talked to Sam, and he wanted to talk to Andrew (who was napping).

I’m not sure, but I think he misses us – all of us – just a teeny bit.  Which is nice.

Dan and Jack ran out last night to get a license and some needed supplies.  Then they spent the evening cutting up some things to use as bait (in case the worms didn’t work).

After getting our runs in, we loaded up the kids and headed over to a nearby fish farm pond.  Sam was the first to have his hook baited.  Dan helped him cast and then walked over to help the next kid.  Before Luke’s pole was set up, Sam had a fish!

Then Luke!

And Maria!

Poor Jack was still waiting on me to put his new pole together.  Dan ran from Maria to Luke to Sam and back again – baiting and casting and releasing fish.

FINALLY, I had Jack all set.  He tried hotdog.  He tried worms.  He tried corn.  He tried a lure.  NOTHING!!!  Plenty of his bait came back half-eaten, but no fish!   Poor Jack.  He didn’t seem upset, though, and just kept working on it.  He got really good at casting.

After about 13 fish, Andrew was finished.  It was exciting at first, and he cheered his siblings on.

But, an hour in the stroller on the bank of a pond wasn’t much fun.  Especially when he should have been napping.

I started loading up the car and (forcefully) gathering children around me.  Since Sam and Maria had already caught a ton, I took them with me.  Luke and Jack I left with Dan, giving Dan specific instructions NOT to come home until Jack had caught a fish!

Sure enough, Jack caught one.  The biggest one of them all!

My address?  Nope.

The number of Diet Dr. Peppers I consume daily?  Close, but no.

Number of Facebook friends?  No way.

Books I’ve read this year?  Possible, but no.

2,490 MILES.  Traveled over Spring Break.  Via van.  With kids.

Last summer, we traveled to see some family in Salt Lake City, UT.  It must have caused some sort of brain damage, because we thought it’d be fun to do it again.

This time, though, we headed south to Texas, stopping along the way to break up the trip a little and see some family.

After just 5 hours, we stopped to have lunch with grandparents, cousins and an aunt and uncle.

We then motored on to Springfield, MO (in the pouring snow) to jump up and down on hotel beds, screaming our heads off rest our weary heads and visit more cousins.

On Sunday morning we gobbled up our “free” breakfast and headed further south, to Dallas — what used to be home for me and still feels like it when I go back.  We stopped, of course, at the state line to take a few pictures, just like we did a couple of years ago.

2011

2009

Thanks to some dear friends, we headed into downtown Dallas and pulled our dusty, junk-and kid-filled van up to the curb at The Magnolia Hotel.  It was “suite,” but might have been a little sweeter, had Dan and I been sans kids.  Can’t have it all, though, right?

After checking in, we headed over to see our wonderful friends, let the kids run wild, drink a few brews and have dinner.  Made me wish I still lived there.

After a luxurious night and a fabulous breakfast (except for chasing after the kids), we headed south.  Again.  This time to Austin.

The kids all went berserk at the site of their grandparents and some freedom from the van.

Not wanting to wear out our welcome too quickly, we hustled the kids off to San Antonio on Tuesday morning, to explore the famous Riverwalk.  Thankfully, the rain we saw on the way down ceased upon our arrival and we hailed a river taxi for a cruise down the river.

Along the way, we learned about San Antonio and it’s monuments and sculptures.  The most exciting part of the cruise, though, was the lock and dam.

Our boat entered a chamber, which then filled with water to raise us up nine feet.  After we exited the chamber, an amazing 9 feet higher, our tour concluded near the old Pearl Brewery.

On our way back down the river, we had our pilot drop us where we could easily get to our luncheon destination:  Mi Tierra.  There, we feasted on fabulous Mexican food and were serenaded by los trovadores.

On Wednesday, back in Austin, we headed downtown for a Duck Adventure.  We learned that “it’s not bragging if it’s true”; Piranha was filmed in lake Austin, and Austin’s capital building is the biggest state capital building in the country. Go figure. (We learned some other stuff, too, but all the quacking, made it hard to hear…)

Thursday morning had us out hat shopping and shirt buying.

The afternoon was spent with Uncle Greg and FAVORITE Cousin Gwen.

On Friday morning, we packed the van up with crap and kids again, said our goodbyes, and headed back north.  Under no time constraints this time, we made our way leisurely across the country, stopping several times (like for Chick Days at Tractor Supply) before checking in again for the night in Springfield, MO.

This time, our hotel was a bit nicer (nothing like the Magnolia, of course) and had an indoor pool.  Despite our late arrival time, we headed to the pool to burn off some energy.  Even though he stayed on the sidelines with me, Andrew seemed to have just as much fun as the rest of the crew.

After another “free” breakfast on Saturday morning, we continued our trip north, aiming for Grandma’s and her fried chicken for lunch.  We made it in time, and were surprised with a small birthday party for Andrew (who turns 1 on the 11th).

Poor Andrew… all he wants for his birthday is NO MORE TRAVELING.  The poor guy freaked when I took him with me to retrieve something from the car, thinking he was going to be strapped in again.  It was inevitable, however, as we had one last leg of the trip to go.  Fortunately, he was out before we left the neighborhood.

2,490 miles later, we made it home safe and sound, with a whole day to go crazy decompress before starting a new week of making lunches, homework, soccer, appointments and scouts.

YEEHAW!!!

p.s.  These are only a few of the 244 pictures I took.  Check out my Flickr page for more – just click the badge in the left column of this page.

To double ease the pain, my dear husband flew our entire family out to Utah so we could celebrate by attending his brother’s wedding.  Nothing like getting someone else to pay for the party!  It seems to be a tradition in Dan’s family to double up on celebrations.  This is the second wedding/birthday combo and there are numerous shared birthdays.  Makes it easier to remember significant dates.  I guess.

Truthfully, with all the packing to do, clothing to buy and fretting to do, I almost forgot about turning The Big 4-0 27.

We flew out on the busiest travel day of the year (What idiot made those reservations?!?  Oh, yeah.  Me.) and headed toward what was supposed to be one of the worst snow storms in years.  With five children.  On a flight leaving too early to serve alcohol to the stressed-out parents.

Things couldn’t have gone smoother.  We flew out of the smaller airport and left early enough to avoid the crowds.  Despite our large party of mostly crazed young’uns, we made it through security quickly and to our gate in plenty of time.  The kids were thrilled to be on the airplane and were entertained all through take off.  Andrew did wonderfully until he was woken from his nap by siblings asking for snacks, electronics, toys and books.

We were welcomed to Utah by Uncle Tom and several inches of snow.  This, too, was entertainment for the kids, as we hadn’t seen snow yet this year.

So as not to drone on and on, I’ll give you the highlights of our trip:

Thursday: Early to Uncle John’s (the groom) for family pictures.  Oh, what FUN!!!  There were only 31 of us for the picture and who posed the most difficulty?  Yes.  The Chicago Branch.  First Sam was being difficult.  Then Luke got mad and ran off.  Then it was back to Sam.  Things deteriorated at lightening speed.  Picture taking and our family just don’t go well together.  I guess I should be happy no one was dropped this time.  Of course, the lack of food and drink prior to the photo shoot probably added to the situation.  But, there was NO WAY any of my clan were going to eat or drink before a picture!

Once the pictures were finished and the eating (kids) and drinking (adults) began, all was well again.  We were joined by even more family throughout the day (I think the total was over 60) and had a wonderful Thanksgiving Day meal.

Friday: the whole crew was back at it again, eating and drinking.  This time at Cucina Toscana.  The 22 children in attendance got their own tables, fru-fru drinks and a special meal, while the adults enjoyed wine, more wine, delicious food, and more wine.

Saturday: we celebrated my birthday by having breakfast out with our family and Tom’s family, which was a nice surprise.  The kids all helped Aunt Cami bake me a cake, and we ate that for lunch before heading to the hotel in Ogden so we could begin preparing for the wedding.

The hotel was wonderful.  We had a corner suite that overlooked downtown Ogden.  We had a front row seat to the annual Santa Run and got some pics in before heading out to the Snow Basin Ski Lodge to witness the ceremony, of which Maria was a part (flower girl) and Dan was a part (groomsman).

Despite leaving in plenty of time (yes – I was able to get everyone showered and dressed!) we held up the wedding because the brand-new GPS sent us the *&$%#ed up way we chose to take the long, winding, snowy route through the mountains to get to our destination.

The lodge was beautiful, as was the bride, and the ceremony went off without a hitch (despite my loud, restless little boys).

We even managed to take MORE pictures relatively painlessly.  (Special thanks goes out to Andrew for waiting until after the wedding photos to dump beer all over the both of us.)

Unbelievably, I was happy-birthday-ed throughout the evening.  It was nice (but may have been nicer if everyone could have just said “Happy Birthday,” instead of – too loudly for my taste – “Happy 40th Birthday!!!”)  The bride and groom – ever so thoughtful – even had a gift for me.

The party went late into the night (for us) and four out of five of our little ones fell asleep as soon as we loaded them into the car.

The next morning, we woke to beautiful snow falling outside our huge hotel room windows.  Lots of it.  Lukie eyed the mountain of wedding gifts that we’d stored for the newlyweds and said to me, “You sure got a lot of birthday presents!”  Haha.  Luckily for John and Hanalee, the kids were too tired to tear into them.

Okay… enough for now.  Look for a post about The Adventures Home later.