WHERE Is The Bottom?

Remember six month ago when I said I had insider information that the banks where holding back enormous amounts of inventory in Las Vegas to stabilize the markets? And then remember a few months after that, I heard that they weren't going to hold back and dump them?

It happened. I suggest to all my friends in Las Vegas to NOT go on Zillow and see how much your house is worth right now, unless you want to spend the rest of the day CRYING YOUR EYES OUT.



Our house has dropped 70,000 in equity in 3 MONTHS. It was valued at $315,000 three months ago. Greg's mom's house is worth less than what she bought if for 10 YEARS ago.

HOLY CRAP! I tell you what, if you ever thought of moving to Vegas, you could buy a mini-mansion for 300 grand right now.

This is just getting SCARY! How much lower can it go? Seriously? You can buy a decent 4 bedroom house for 100 grand here now. You can't even build a house for that much money.

While I'm crying over rapidly vanishing equity, my sister is emailing me pictures of herself in Washington DC.

She wanted me to go with her, but I didn't want to appear to be a vacation whore with my recent trip to Michigan and my impending trip to Europe.

I should have went before I run completely out of money. Dang it!

The Bread That Changed My Life

The kids and I drove past the farmland and pastures of Las Vegas yesterday to go to the Las Vegas Farmer's market.



The warehouse district where it is located is also home to the sex district.

I've only been to our farmer's market once before and was horribly disappointed and haven't been back since. But, WOW, things have really changed there. The first time we went, almost all the produce was trucked in from California and called "local". I can get that same produce in my supermarkets, so I didn't buy anything.

This time, the whole market was full of backyard gardeners. I really think there has been a huge surge in demand for locally-grown food here. I can remember a few years ago when I was looking and I couldn't find anything.



Everything I got yesterday was grown by a small producer. I don't know how they can do it. Our water bill was $300 last month and we weren't even home! They must be on wells, because there is no way they are growing produce on residential water. We are penalized for water usage in tiers and we got nailed hard on the last bill.

Anyway, I was really pleased with the produce and taste and freshness. The romaine lettuce I got there was so fresh, it still had the milky substance coming out of the leaves when you first cut it.

I've also been meaning to mention that when I was in Traverse City, the lady at the Natural Food Store told me she had a gluten free bread that would change my life.

I was skeptical. In the last year and a half, I've spend hundreds of dollars trying to make my own flour, my own bread, and buying different gluten-free breads, only to throw the loaves out. I came to the conclusion that ALL gluten free bread is nasty and disgusting and I just quit eating bread all together.

But she swore to me that she was a Celiac, herself, and that Udi's bread was the best gluten-free bread in existence.



So I bought it in Traverse City and it was EXCEPTIONAL. I couldn't believe it! It's the only bread I have ever had that does not need to be toasted to make it halfway edible. This is THE only gluten free bread worth $6 a loaf.



It has changed my life. I can enjoy a sandwich at lunch or on a picnic just like everyone else now. I won't, because it costs $6 a loaf. But I CAN, and that means I have options now, people. And I can get it at the store by my house. I do not have to drive 2100 miles back to Traverse City.

THANK GOD. I wouldn't want to miss the opening of The Hustler club.

The Worst Part Of My Day

I made my second trip to the pediatrician in a week yesterday. I don't know what the heck is going on here. Three of my four kids have had swimmer's ear AND middle ear infections since we got back from Michigan. Maybe there was more than that lady's wig floating around the community pool?

The highlight of the visit was the conversation I had with the nurse who has worked at my doctor's office since the kids were babies.

"I'll never forget the first time I ever met you.", she told me. "It was my second day of work and you came rolling in with that Cadillac of a stroller with those three babies. I'd never seen anything like it. Then you burst out crying and said you were pregnant. We all felt so bad for you. You were SO UPSET. We were all so worried for you."

You know how your first impression of someone is the one you always have forever?

I'm the CRAZY LADY at the doctor's office. Between having triplets and a child with a brain tumor, I've gone crazy in that office so many times, they just let me come in as soon as I call. Which totally works for me, so I go with the Crazy Mystique.

Then Amanda and I motored over to Walgreen's to pick up her antibiotic that hopefully will not give her serum sickness or hives like all the other ones have, since she is now allergic to the penicillin AND the cephalosporin family. This time we are trying Zithromax. Crossing my fingers.

While waiting in line, I turned around and saw this.



WOW! Who knew? You can find out "Who The Daddy?" right at Walgreen's now? And while you're at it, find out if the deadbeat is on drugs? How CONVENIENT!



Sarah lost her first tooth yesterday. She came out of her bedroom at 9:30pm and said it was almost out, so I reached in and yanked it out and told her to GO TO SLEEP. Good grief. These kids will NOT GO TO SLEEP ALREADY. When is the Tooth Fairy supposed to come if you are up ALL NIGHT?

Anyway, Gregory is going to be devastated. He told me yesterday that he was a little baby, with little baby teeth.

Amanda told me yesterday, "The worst part of my day is when you tell us to come inside and go to bed."

"Really? That's my favorite part.", I laughed.

"When I have kids, I'm never going to make them come inside and go to bed. I'm going to let them stay up until they get tired.", she continued.

I just hope I live long enough to see that day come. Oh, it must truly be grand to be a Grandma.

I'm Not Going To Make It

"It rained! It rained! Can we ride our bikes in the puddles? Can we? Can we?"

How would you like to hear that at 6:30 in the morning when you are still asleep?

I don't have time to blog anymore. My kids don't sleep anymore. They go to bed at 9pm and some of them are up as early as 6:30am. This drastic reduction in required sleep started at the beginning of the summer and it's been downhill ever since.

My workday is 14 hours long now.

Any sad feelings I've had about sending them off the full time school have been rapidly dissipating.

Let's do the math. They go to school for 6 hours. They are AWAKE for 14 hours. That still gives me 8 HOURS a day of quality MOM TIME.

On the bright side of this rapidly dropping need to sleep, if we do extracurricular activities when school starts, we should still have PLENTY of time for homework and playtime.

I don't think August 30th is ever going to get here.

I don't think I'm going to make it.

S.O.S.

Waving the white flag from the puddle-ridden driveway.

If You Miss The Signs And Flashing Lights, I Will Be There To Tell You, You Are Stupid

I took the kids up to Mt Charleston today to get out of the heat. One of the things that makes Las Vegas so much better than living in Phoenix in the summer is that we are only 30 miles away from cooler temperatures. If you grow up in Phoenix like I did, you have to drive 3 hours to accomplish a 30 degree temperature drop.

This is why I spent every summer of my life laying on my grandmother's floor underneath the swamp cooler, where it cooled way down to 95 degrees.



It was a beautiful overcast day up there today, with the temperatures ranging between 70 and 75 degrees depending on our elevation. Our first stop was a hike back into Robber's Roost, a narrow canyon popular with rock climbers and outlaws of the Old West.



I am posting these pictures in hopes of showing you how rugged the terrain is on this trail.



And Look! aren't rock climbers crazy?

It's dry up on the mountain and upon entering the Spring Mountains, we saw many signs about the fire danger being extremely high. I know that shortly after we got to Michigan, somebody left a comment on this blog that "my mountain was on fire". It's something I worry about all summer and evidence of recent burns are all over the mountain.

So imagine my shock to start going back down the mountain and see this group of people gathered for a picnic right alongside the trail with a charcoal grill.
And I'm not talking a little portable Hibachi grill. I'm talking a big old gigantic GRILL. Like I cannot even begin to imagine how anyone could drag a grill of that size up that trail. It was beyond ridiculous. Plus, they were not anywhere near a designated picnic or campground. They were right underneath a pine tree. It was CRAZY!

So before my brain knew what my mouth was doing, I confronted the man in front of the grill.

"You can't have fires on the mountain!", I told him.

"It's not fire. It's charcoal.", he replied.

Uhm, how does one START charcoal?

"Didn't you see all the signs? We are in EXTREME fire danger.", I screeched at him.

"What signs?"



Maybe THIS ONE!

Or, geez, if you missed the half a dozen ones like that, how about the flashing lights?




Then I whipped out my cell phone and told him, "I'm calling the sheriff. You CAN'T HAVE A GRILL HERE. YOU ARE GOING TO START THE WHOLE MOUNTAIN ON FIRE. DID YOU KNOW THERE ARE BRISTLECONE PINE TREES TWO MILES FROM HERE THAT ARE 3000 YEARS OLD? YOU CAN'T HAVE A FIRE HERE!"

I totally freaked out, you guys. I think I'm perimenopausal now. In the last couple months, I can turn on a dime. I'm like a crazy person now. Thinking about some moron burning down trees that are older than when Christ walked the earth brings out the crazy in me.

Little did he know though, I had no signal on my phone. I wasn't calling anyone. We got back to the car and I got the phone number off the trailhead and tried to call the sheriff and I could not get a signal.

So the kids and I pulled out and started heading towards Lee Canyon, but I could not get a signal at all.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled off at the Desert Overview.



We walked the short distance to the scenic view and I still couldn't get a signal. On a side note, our neighbors used to come to this very point and watch the nuclear blasts from the Nevada test site.

Just as we turned around to go back to the car, the Grill Goon pulled in. He had packed up his grill and made a dash and now I was going to have to walk by him to get to my car. Good Lord. I almost had a heart attack and died right there. Talk about uncomfortable.

I walked by like I had never seen him before and got the hell out of there. I felt a little bit bad for pulling out the crazy like I did, but it's assholes like him that burn MY mountain down every summer and I'm a little bit sick of it.



Because I really like my mountain.



And the kids really like my mountain. We had a picnic and the boys climbed trees.



And the girls immediately invented a stage and began belting out songs.

And, someday, I hope to take them on the Bristlecone trail, which has the most extensive stand of Bristlecones alive today, and are thought to be the oldest living organisms on earth. So I would really appreciate it if nobody BURNS THEM DOWN BEFORE WE CAN GET THERE.



I would like to keep the mountain around for a few more generations.

So fear not, if you miss the signs and the flashing lights, I will be there to tell you, you are stupid.

First Lunch Request

I do not have time to blog today, but thought it would be fun to share with you what the children have requested for their first school lunch.

Shrimp salad and crackers
Ants on a log (Peanut butter and raisins on celery for those of you over five)
Blueberries AND mangoes

Okay! SUPER. Let's set the bar extraordinarily high.

I wonder what they want for day two?

CRAB LEGS? Or filet mignon? Rack of lamb? Carving station?

Greg will claim poverty and have them signed up for free lunches by October.

Silly String Is Stupid

It's a sad, sad, sad day when you help your dad for hours cleaning the yard, then insist on Silly String at the store for your reward, only to discover that it only lasts for 30 seconds, then you have to clean it all up off the grass.

So sad that your throw you lid and cry for 20 minutes.

Silly String is STUPID, he told me.

I think that's a valuable life lesson. Silly String IS stupid.

What Do You Get With The Obama Pedicure?

I had to take Gregory to the pediatrician yesterday. I went out to dinner with some friends on Thursday and when I got home, Gregory woke up and came crying that his left ear was hurting him terribly. I tried to work all my motherly magic throughout the night, but it was clear to me he had swimmer's ear and was in a lot of pain.

So off we went to get drops for his ears yesterday. He hasn't been to the pediatrician in well over a year, so I was delighted to find that my peanut has grown 2 inches and is now in the 75th percentile for height. He spent the first two years of his life in the 10th percentile, so I am THRILLED that he has finally caught up from being wedged in between his sisters in utero, his multiple birth, and being premature.

He is 47 inches tall and 42 pounds now. I can remember a point when Greg said we needed to take him to an endocrinologist for the growth hormone shots, he was so upset by Gregory's small stature. Greg is even a worse hypochondriac than me.

Then the two of us went to Starbuck's and Gregory devoured a donut and vanilla milk and I coaxed him to talk to me. Gregory is a completely different child when he isn't around Amanda. Those two feed off each other. When he's by himself, he barely audible. I wish I had more time to have them each by themselves, because you learn so much about them when you isolate them from the herd. Gregory is an absolute pleasure to be around when he's alone.

From there it was off to Walgreen's for ear plugs and drops. I was driving down Charleston, when I saw something that made me actually turn the car around.



WHAT????

What the heck is an Obama Pedicure? Does it come with free health care? It would have to before I would walk in that seedy place.

So I posted the picture on my Facebook page and triple dog dared someone to call the number and ask them what an Obama Pedicure was.

Mandy: Are you in Mexico?
Me: Practically. Las Vegas

Turns out that the Obama Pedicure is their signature $10 normal pedicure. My friend Cathy called. If I wasn't afraid of catching an incurable disease in there, I would go in there and make someone do some real work on my horrid pig hooves for $10. Since coming home from Michigan, my heels have completely dried out and are now cracking and flaking. Nothing short of a sander and a blow torch are going to help me.

But I STILL don't get why they have a picture of the President on a sign for a pedicure. How distasteful.

Their sign also indicated they perform colonics in there.

What's next? A $20 Obama Butt Wash?

Tales From The Community Pool

I have gotten back into full swing on our summer routine since returning from vacation. We did the free movies on Tuesday and the community pool yesterday. It's been between 105-110 degrees, so they either need to be inside or in water.

I met my friend Laura and her triplets yesterday. Since Laura dresses her boys alike for the pool and my girls have their matching cherry swimsuits, we created quite a spectacle when I ushered all seven kids to the bathroom. I even had a lady follow me in and stare at the kids. I think she thought they were all mine.

Creep-y.

Laura and I spend an enormous amount of time standing in the water at the bottom of the slide watching our kids come down and go back up, so this gives us ample time for People Observations.

Yesterday, imagine our complete shock when a lady who appeared to be in her seventies went down the three story slide. As if that wasn't a shock enough, her wig came off upon impact.

Laura is the type of person who can't look or think about things when bad things happen. When she found out she was having triplets, she wouldn't even allow her husband to mention it until she was like 5 months pregnant. Laura likes denial.

"OMG. Turn around. LOOK! Laura! LAURA! Look at that lady's wig. She's carrying her WIG through the water.", I was scream-hissing to Laura, who had her back turned so as not to see it.

Laura peeked. Then she swiftly turned around.

"OMG. OMG. Laura! Laura! She's PUTTING IT BACK ON! Look! Look!"

Peeking. Peeking.

Thank Goodness Laura has me to give her the play-by-play since she won't LOOK.

Then as if all that wasn't just bizarre enough, part of the wig disintegrated in the water and there was hair floating everywhere. So they blew the whistle for "foreign substance" and we all had to get out, while they netted up her rogue hair.

About an hour later, as Laura and I were still standing like prunes in the water, we watched a boy around 9 years old get in a heated argument with his father.

Laura had her back turned of course.

"OMG. Laura! Turn around. That kid just SPIT in his father's face!"

And he did. The kid full-on spit a luggie right IN his dad's face. So Laura turned around right in time to see the father get out of the pool while the boy RIPPED HIS DAD'S SWIM TRUNKS DOWN and his dad was standing bare-assed right on the steps of the pool.

I am not even making this up!

Laura and I GASPED.

That gave us something to talk about for a half an hour that included stuff like, "Greg or Don would have ripped that kid out of the pool and BEAT HIS ASS."

Seriously. What kind of person would let their child treat them like that? Do you even GET IT????? They didn't even leave. Do you even get that? It was like insane. And can you imagine if he feels he can treat his father like that, how does he treat other people in authority, like his teacher?

Cuh-razy.

But, anyway, so glad to get back to where all the freaks and crazies live in Las Vegas. I had absolutely nothing to talk about up there in Traverse City. The "highly educated and affluent" are boring.

When I Was Still Naive

With the kids starting full-time school for the first time ever in 5 weeks, my thoughts have already jumped to lunch. So on a recent trip to Costco, I was delighted to see insulated lunch totes that everyone could agree on. I was even more delighted that they didn't have any stupid characters on them. They even came with the cold/hot pack and a stainless steel drinking bottle. $14.

As you can imagine, they aren't eating the school lunches here.

1. Because they are disgusting.

2. They wouldn't eat them anyway.

3. I never did. I skipped lunch every single day at school.

4. We don't even have ovens at our schools. Just big giant microwaves.

I did check out the food calendar for last year though and must admit it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

For instance, they only serve pizza once a week. And they don't serve french fries at all on the menu I was looking at. Could that be right? Is there an a la carte menu too? They serve browned potato wedges.

They serve hot dogs once a week and chicken nuggets once a week. Then they mix it up on the other two days with stuff like meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I can remember looking at meatloaf and mashed potatoes on my tray at school and becoming violently ill as a child. Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. The only fond memories of school lunches that I have is the yummy cafeteria buns and when I got lucky and my Aunt Ellie would pack my lunch.

So I still want to get a thermos for each of them for packing hot lunches. I really don't want to send sandwiches every day.

I tried to bounce all this off my sister yesterday and she laughed at me.

"Oh, you poor naive soul. Wait till you go through all that trouble and you get it all back at the end of the day, in a big, old stinky composted mess in their lunch bags."

I'm sure that will never happen to me because my kids are perfect.

Then she continued, "Mine would come in starving and I'd make them open up their lunch bags and show me what they ate. That's when they learned to throw it out and lie."

Which is why I have decided against the reusable lunch bags and containers for this year. I have mulled this over, and will possibly change my mind, but I think it would be very unlikely that I would get all the pieces back with three first graders and it is a huge investment to buy all those things for three kids. I can get a box of 50 sandwich bags at the dollar store.

I also do not buy stuff in individual servings. It is too expensive with this many kids, so I was thinking of just getting the 1/2 cup size of disposable restaurant containers at Costco. They sell 5000 of them. Then depending on what I send for lunch, I could add servings of salad dressing, salsa, sour cream, guacamole, applesauce, yogurt, soy sauce, etc. and not worry about losing all the lids and bottoms or having to wash them.

Do you think that is a bad idea because they'll leak?

I have so many ideas for their lunches.

I think it is going to be fun. For the first week.

I Need Chicken Chastity Belts

OHMYGOSH, you guys. My roosters are terrorizing the hens. I was in denial before that it was going to happen, but we went over to the chickens yesterday and Carrot Top had Miss America pinned down and was on top of her, having his way with her. Matrix came FLYING over the trampoline and got him off of her.



And look at her back. The two of them are already ripping all her feathers out of her back.

And Sarah was all, "Mommy?! What is he doing???!"

And I'm like, "OHMYGOSH. GET OFF OF HER!"




They're tearing out all the feathers on my Barred Rock too.



And this poor girl is bald now.

Remember Bareback? She never got her feathers back at all. She's still bald.

Bob loves the roosters. But inclined to say it's time for them to die immediately. I am not keen on feeding something that isn't producing eggs anyway, and it's not like we live somewhere where we need a rooster to chase off predators.

Plus, do you think the hens LIKE that? I know they are just chickens, but imagine you are just walking around in your house and several times a day, men throw you on the ground, pull your hair out, and rape you. Would that be enjoyable?

And now I'm going to have ugly featherless chickens.



Does anyone know how to knit? I'm going to need some chicken sweaters this winter.

Remember the women that sold chicken diapers? They also sell chicken saddles.



They go over the hens back and keep the roosters from ripping the feathers out.

I wonder if they make chastity belts? That's what I NEED.

How Smart Are You, If...........

My garden is ALIVE! I cannot believe it. It has been around 110 degrees or higher, but I still have produce.



Thanks to Jerry, who fashioned a way into our backyard. He came over every day and watered the garden. He doesn't even EAT vegetables.



I really have to credit the Tomato Lady for telling me not to cage them. While this looks like a big old mess, keeping the tomatoes down under the vines and close to the ground really seems to be the way to go in the desert. It is 10 or 15 degrees cooler under there, and we don't have the issues with fungus or mold that would prevent you from doing this in a different climate.

It was so satisfying and wonderful to have fresh produce again. Because of Cherry Festival, we did not get to go to the Farmer's Market the entire time we were in Traverse City. I was in sticker shock over the price of produce there. I mean, I cannot even begin to tell you.

Remember the organic baby salad greens I got from my CSA all spring? I got so sick of them, I started just throwing them into the chickens. Price at the Traverse City co-op? 8.99 A POUND. Organic head of lettuce? $3.99 for ONE HEAD. One conventionally grown bell pepper? $1.50! Organic Cilantro? $2.99 for ONE BUNCH.

Seriously, I could never afford to raise four teenagers there. I pay 99 cents for an organic head of romaine lettuce. It would cost me four times as much money as I pay for food here. God bless Mexico and illegal immigrants in the California fields.

So I finally cornered the proprietor at the health food store and asked her about the prices. She told me that because Traverse City was so far North and not on a major highway, transportation costs were a huge factor in the prices.

"But what about the prices at your co-op? That's locally grown food.", I countered.

"Traverse City is a highly educated, affluent area. Our co-op is a philanthropic pursuit that gives back to the community."

I'm sorry, WHAT? How smart are you if you are paying $8.99 a pound for some salad?

So, anyway, I am happy to be back to a 12 month growing season, and access to abundant and plentiful produce, even if it is hotter than Hades. I am happy to make a nice organic salad without giving to charity.

And you know what? I gained a ton of weight on my vacation. I don't know how much, but I am not fitting into my knee-length Mormon shorts anymore. I cannot even button them. I ate loads of processed crappy food while we were there.

My completely unscientific, based on no real factual data, opinion is that when you eat nutritionally dead food, your body tells you to eat more because you are malnourished. When I eat a nutritionally dense meal, I do not get hungry. For instance, if I make a two egg omelet in the morning, using MY eggs and MY produce, I do not get hungry at all until lunch.

I think that's why those pre-packaged, disgusting diet meals make people fatter in the long run. There is NO nutrition in them.

Anyway, I've been dying to blog about all this, but I can't type with my thumbs.



I'm happy to report that all my chickens are alive.



How would you like to poop this egg out in a 113 degrees? Good grief!



While we were gone, my roosters matured. This is Carrot Top. He is now sporting the big red comb to prove his manhood.



He is no match for Matrix though. Matrix is the lead cock by far. You cannot tell in this picture, but he is much larger. He is a gorgeous bird, if birds could be gorgeous. He is starting to act aggressive and I think he's going to be trouble with a capital T.

All I know is you only need one cock in your henhouse. Someone is going to die and it is not going to be me.

They began crowing while we were gone. I bet the neighbors are THRILLED.



The turkeys are still alive. They stand around and crap in their drinking water all day to stay cool. It is as disgusting in real life as in this photo, believe me.



I think the feed store sold Bob buzzards, rather than turkeys. SHUDDER.

Despite their ugliness, they are the tamest, nicest birds. They aren't afraid of people at all and they are really, really mellow so far. Although you can't tell in the photos, there is an obvious size difference between the two, so I am certain one is a male and one is a female. I know NOTHING about turkeys, so I'm not sure what that means as far as eating them. They were supposed to be boys.

Damn feed store!



These Leghorns were supposed to be hens too. One is a rooster. Can you tell which one is the male and why?

OMG. I can. Does this mean I'm the Crazy Chicken Lady now?

We Used To Be YOU

We made it home yesterday, driving 1011 miles from North Platte, Nebraska to Las Vegas in 19 hours.



We got to Grand Junction, Colorado at 5pm and realized that we were only 7 hours from home and there was NO WAY we wanted to stay in a hotel another night. You have no idea.




So we decided to push it through.

We pulled into the exact same rest stop in Utah, at the exact hour, 8pm, exactly 3 weeks later, last night. It was so bizarre. It was like we had just been there.



When we opened the car doors to let the kids out, everything in the car started just falling out of the doors. Trash, torn coloring pages, crayons, markers, VHS tapes, water bottles, stuffed animals. Nobody could find their shoes under all the garbage.

We had pulled in right next to an SUV with a family of five. It appeared they had a one year old, a three year old, and a six year old. Their vehicle was pristine. The windows were clean. They were organized.

I looked at the dad's face as he peered into our filthy, disgusting van and I could tell by his smug look that he KNEW his car would never look like that.



Little did he know that Greg had stripped our entire van down and gave it a thorough cleaning before we even left Michigan.




The mom started talking to me and asked us where we had come from and where we were heading?

I told her we had left Michigan three days before and were pushing through to Vegas, our home.

"No way. We live in Las Vegas too! We are heading to Wisconsin. This is our first cross country trip. I don't know what we are going to do, because we just stopped 25 minutes ago."

"You need to drive at night.", I told her, with the experience of a seasoned traveler. "Or you will never get anywhere. You can make it to Nebraska by morning."

"See, honey? They were in Nebraska yesterday. We have to drive all night tonight.", she told her husband.

He started cleaning the windshield while they debated driving all night.

"It will take you five days if you stop every night.", I told him.

Then to drive home the misery that lay ahead for them, I said, "Our car looks like this after just three days. We used to be you. Good luck to you guys!!!"

Traveling cross country with four kids will fundamentally change you as a human being. And not for the better.

Over The River And Through The Storm

We spent all day yesterday driving across Iowa and Nebraska, letting the kids out at rest stops to run around and get the energy out. I stand by my previous statement that Iowa has the best rest stops. Iowa mustbe rich.

Our goal was to get to Colorado, but Mother Nature had other plans and we ran into this bad boy.

I will admit to totally being freaked out about it. The radio was saying it was a severe thunderstorm, generating winds of 70 miles an hour and golf ball-sized hail. I'm used to this kind of weather.

"Sunny."

"Sunny and hot."

"Hot and sunny.".

"Sunny and windy.".

"Wind and sun.".

So I was sure certain death awaited us as we drove directly into the massive thunderhead.

But we are still alive. All the sane people pulled over and got hotel rooms and we literally could not find a room anywhere, for any price.

We eventually found nice lodgings at the Norman Bates Motor Lodge. It was recently updated in 1976 and had gorgeous orange and brown flooring and vanities. Gregory and I explored the secret haunted hallways together. It was kind of fun in a I Wore My Flipflops In The Shower kind of way.

Now we are finishing up our trek across the Great Plains and heading towards the Rockies. I have been reading about the depletion of the Ogallala aquifer and how they used to call this the Great American Desert and this region was considered a wasteland. Obviously the early pioneers had not set their eyes on Las Vegas or they would have truly understood "wasteland".

The kids are punchie and Greg is pissy and warning of future side of the road beatings if people don't pipe it down.

Should be a marvelous Day 3 on the road.

Hotel For Dogs And Smoker And Pukers

We spent the night last night in a flea bag hotel, which is still preferable to driving all night long in my book.

"It's not that bad once you step over the vomit in the doorway.", Greg remarked.

We ate dinner in a Mexican restaurant at 9pm and the kids were playing at the park at 10pm. We all went to bed at 11pm. I am looking forward to having a normal schedule again.

We have just entered Iowa and are hoping to make it to Colorado before finding another five star accommodations.

You would not believe the traffic we encountered yesterday. We should have never left on a Friday. That was a terrible mistake. And for those of you from the Indiana/Illinois Chicago area, what is up with the neverending construction? Swear to God those highways have been torn apart and rebuilt for 20 years. It bites.

So we are going home the same way after much debate. Greg is over being on vacation. He told the kids nobody is allowed to pee today.

I'm so sure. We've been on the road for 30 minutes and I have to pee already.

Heading Back To Hell

We are leaving today as soon as we can get the car loaded.

I tell you what, I have never seen my kids in such a mass hysteria as they were last night about leaving this place. Austin cried until almost 10:30pm in bed.

Greg's mom had us over for dinner, then we walked and got slushes and ice cream cones and stopped by the park.

When we left Greg's mom's condo, the kids started crying and proceeded to cry the ENTIRE time Greg was in Walmart.



Sarah cried because she doesn't want to leave the maple tree in the front yard.

Austin cried because he doesn't want to leave the beach.

Gregory cried because he won't see Grammy every SINGLE DAY.

Amanda cried because she's leaving all the stores on Front Street.



"But don't you want to go back to your own beds and all your toys and friends?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. We want to stay here FOREVER."

To make matters even worse, Hotter Than Hell arrived in Southern Nevada while we were gone and all my friends' status updates on Facebook are "It's so hot."

"OMG. It's hot."

"It's so friggin hot."

My friend Joselle told me if my chickens are still alive, they're banging on the door of KFC and begging to be put out of their misery.

So that sounds like fun! If you guys tell me to go to hell, I can say I'm on my way.

I leave you now with a small 30 second fraction of the 2 hour crying fest from last night.



I think this means they had fun??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!