This week is Spring Break for us. Lisa has decided to abandon me take a much deserved vacation with her family. Instead of sitting around feeling insanely jealousbitterhostile unhappy about being left behind to entertain my children all week at home alone (meaning without my bestie to call me daily and entertain me), I decided to look at it as an opportunity to let loose.
Did Tom Cruise cry into his pillow and text his parents that he missed them every two seconds when they went away for the weekend? I don’t think so. He did what any rational person would do (he used to be rational you know) and stripped down to his undies while rocking it out.
Since I strongly oppose my own public nakedness, I won’t take it that far, but I will push the envelope so to speak.
It’s like when your hubby is out of town and you are all, “Third bowl of Lucky Charms and a three hour Keeping Up With the Kardashians marathon, don’t mind if I do.” Sure you pay for it a bit the next morning when the kids wake you up at dawn, but oh it is worth it for those glorious hours of gluttony and brain wasting!
So this week, I might go a little crazy around here.
Lisa insists less is more, so she puts a 2 time a day limit on my celebrity tweeting. But this week is all me, all the time! If I want to tweet Arie our Bachelor post 50 times a day, who is going to stop me? P.S. Y’all should really tweet it to him, too, m’kay! Tell him we sent you!
Lisa’s always trying to reign in my complete obsession absolutely normal feelings for Ben Affleck! (He was totally robbed of the Oscar nomination for Best Director, y ‘all). Imagine her surprise when I take all the pennies big bucks we have made from blogging and buy a billboard on Hollywood Blvd. telling him that I was his first fan all the way back to Chasing Amy. Bet that’ll show her.
Sneaking over to Lisa’s house and using her hide-a-key to film a vlog where we go through her closet? Just say the word, and I will do it.
She tells me all the time that driving by Angie Harmon’s neighborhood (Angie totally lives in Charlotte, and could easily become my friend!) more than once a week is probably frowned upon. Well, this week is *my* Spring Break, too, Lisa, so maybe I will make it THREE times A DAY. There’s nobody here to say, “Blah, blah, blah restraining order” now!
I could even “accidentally” publish some of my favorite emails from Lisa that she sends to entertain me. Hey, that could be a whole post in and of itself. Looks like we have Thursday taken care of!
Finally, there has been something I have been dying to say on the blog for a while now. Sure, it might lose us some readers, but you know what…I don’t even care! Brace yourselves:
(Whoa!!! Hello there, gentle readers! Thank goodness this hotel has WiFi! I thought it was best to redact that last paragraph. Ashley really didn’t mean it. She truly loves everyone. She’s just feeling a little tired and lonely. Don’t worry, I’ll be home on Friday. Until then, just write something soothing in the comments, okay? -Lisa)
And you know what? Since I finally got that off my chest, this image underscores my feelings perfectly. You’re welcome readers!
(Yikes!! That other picture was deeply unfortunate. Please enjoy this adorable winky kitty from our “Squee” Pinterest Board instead. -Lisa)
So watch out world. Ashley is all alone with the keys to the blog and if you thought what I just said was over the top, just you wait. There is plenty more where that came from!
You know how you just love it when you find yourself with a weekend full of quiet and nothing planned?
Yeah, we don’t either.
Y’all, we seriously packed like a month’s worth of activities into the last 48 hours, or in the case of one of our very favorite blogger Tidbits From the Queen of Chaos, we had what she would consider a Tuesday. AnnMarie, are you listening? Because, we both said all weekend long that we realized what we were doing would barely have you breaking a sweat, and we pretty much found ourselves bowing down in your honor (as well as collapsing in a heap).
Starting at the crack of dawn Saturday morning until the baths were finally drawn Sunday night, we went full force with FUN.FAMILY.ACTIVITIES. Are you listening kids, because this would be the sounds of your parents’ wallets being emptied and their tired, aching bodies falling into bed. Nobody had better whine anytime soon about how “we never get to do ANYTHING fun”.
Our weekend was kicked off Saturday morning at 5:30 a.m. No, that wasn’t a typo. When we said we started at the crack of dawn we weren’t kidding. Lucy was entered in her first 5K with Girls On the Run! It was completely exciting. Her dad and big brother Bobby were her running buddies (It was their first 5K, too!). Even though there were thousands of participants, sadly there just wasn’t any room for Lisa to run with them. (Hey, SOMEONE has to take pictures and hold the jackets you know!).
Good friends will wish you luck before you run. BEST friends will set their alarm clocks and drive for an hour in the cold, dark morning just to cheer you on. Well, Ashley, Emma, and Abby made that long trek to support Lucy as only true BFFs would! All of us cheered loudly and issued celebratory hand slaps when Robert, Bobby, and Lucy crossed the finish line. The sense of pride and accomplishment was electric, and Lucy’s smile at the end shined as brightly as her medal!
You’d think all that early morning air and exercise would be enough for one day…but no! When we jam pack a weekend with events, we go all the way.
Right after the 5K, everyone raced back home for a quick shower because Emma and Abby had a big event of their own: their Winter Dance Recital! This was no small affair. It was held at a swanky uptown theater! Lucy thought that Emma should audition immediately for So You Think You Can Dance because her jazz was just that fantastic. Lisa declared Abby the most graceful ballet dancer of the entire day. They both really burned up the floor!
Emma and Abby were thrilled to spot their BFFs in the audience, because if dancing for your mom and dad is fun, dancing for your favorite friends is even better!
As the afternoon wound to a close, we parted from our friends and spent the rest of the day carting kids around to various birthday parties (in Lisa’s case) and buying the family Christmas tree (in Ashley’s case). Sorry, no photo evidence of any of those activities, but just assume they were mostly exhausting totally fun!
Sunday, we were all up bright and early again (and dressed up this time, no less) for brunch with Santa. Now, we attempted something like this last year, but it was a not a huge success. Between the fact that the restaurant attempted to seat our party of eight at a table clearly meant for six and the “Santa” being a kid in his early twenties who wore a suit that practically hung off of his bony build, we were less than impressed. We had high hopes for this year, though, because we picked a totally different venue and booked months in advance.
Thankfully, our pre-planning did not disappoint, and we all had a fantastic time! Santa was totally jolly and lifelike except for the escaped convict placement of his beard directly under his eyes. Thankfully, only Bobby seemed to notice this. The kids not only got to talk to Santa, they were even greeted by Mrs. Claus.
But that wasn’t all. They had carol singers, a man who read The Night Before Christmas aloud, and even an elf who danced the most incredible hip hop solo witnessed by a brunch crowd. Oh…and the food was delicious. We each got a plate of breakfast food, wolfed it down, then hit the carving station line for some hearty lunch fare. (When The Dose of Reality crew hits a buffet, we take no prisoners.) We finished it all off with adorable desserts!
It is honestly going to take a few days to recover from this level of constant activity. We really need a weekend to recover from our weekend. Since that’s not happening, we’ll just be the right over here in the corner mainlining caffeine and wishing for a nap.
One of the best parts of being a blogger is getting to explore the world.
I mean, sure, that world is inside a computer screen, but hey the plus side is that you don’t have to pack a thing!
Recently, we got the chance to play in some places outside of The Dose of Reality. Kind of like how Matt Lauer leaves the Today Show studio and travels to Australia.
We could have done an elaborate game to make you guess our locations, but honestly, we are still tired from all the turkey and visiting relatives!
So, instead, we are just sharing it straight up. Go, visit, and let us know what you think!
As I prepare to fly in a couple weeks with my children (yes, both of them this time) I can’t help but reflect on travel times past. This was by far my most memorable flight ever, which is totally saying something since in 1983 I got to fly solo for the first time. I still remember the stewardesses (yes, this was pre-flight attendant days) allowed me to help pass out drinks and visit the cockpit where I received my very own Frontier airline wings. It was obviously quite the day for my 7 year-old self.
What is your most memorable (good or bad) travel story?
The many wonders of parenting would not be complete without a horrific travel story or two, and it is not until you are a parent that you realize just how true, even if hilarious, the “Jeffrey” story is from the classic Bill Cosby stand-up routine. If you have not survived some sort of horrible plane flight or horrific car trip with your child, count yourself lucky … or just be counting the minutes.
Emma took her very first trip at five months old, so by the time my tale of woe took place, she was actually a bit of a seasoned flyer, for a two-year-old that is. Plus, I was one of those very cocky confident first-time mothers of one who didn’t think twice about packing up her child to jet off for a weekend away. Hence my plan to surprise one of my best girlfriends from high school with a visit to help celebrate her 30th birthday, per her husband’s suggestion. Obviously, if she and I had been planning the surprise, the trip probably would have looked more like the two of us on a beach somewhere drinking fancy umbrella drinks alone, not surrounded by our three collective children, but I digress. The travel to and the visit itself was actually really great – the kids all got along well and we shared a lot of laughs. It was genuinely fun and fabulous!
But the day we were supposed to come home, Emma decided to totally buck the system and skip her nap, despite my repeated attempts to make her take one. To make the day a bit more stressful, I began feeling pretty awful with unexplained stomach pain and mild nausea as the afternoon progressed; but because I am a mother, I did the only thing I could do – I sucked it up and packed our suitcase. My sweet girlfriend drove us to the airport where we said our tearful goodbyes. My tears were because I was saying goodbye to my friend, and Emma’s because she was now hours without a nap and exhausted. By the time we got through security, I was feeling really sick and Emma was hysterically sobbing in her stroller.
I got to the gate only to discover that our flight was, yes, you guessed it, delayed. However, much to my joy, I discovered that the very next gate had a flight to Charlotte leaving only fifteen minutes after our original departure time. I rushed to the counter, explained my situation, not that it needed much explaining, given the sobbing coming from just below the counter, and begged to be let on that flight. They told me that they could get us on the plane, but that our luggage would still come on our original flight, hours later. Fine, no problem, who cares, just get me and my screaming, way-overtired toddler home as quickly as possible.
I boarded and managed to wrangle Emma onto my lap with her pacifier (yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, I know, two-year-olds don’t need pacifiers, spare me the lecture, I was desperate here!), knowing that just any minute now she would pass out from exhaustion. Which she totally did. NOT.
And then as the plane was taxiing down the runway, I got the overwhelming, sweat-pouring-down-your-face feeling that always comes right before your stomach sends its contents right back out the way they came in. I frantically checked the seat pockets in front of me only to discover that I had plenty of emergency landing instructions and more than enough in-flight magazines, but not a single air sick bag! Knowing that vomiting all over my already wailing toddler would probably not help her into a blissful slumber, I looked across the aisle and spotted one in the seat pocket there. Using the go-go gadget arms that motherhood seems to magically give you, I was able to grab it just seconds before becoming violently ill, all while attempting to hold still on my lap my HYSTERICAL, UNCONTROLLABLY SOBBING, ATTEMPTING TO BAT AWAY THE BARF BAG THAT I AM ACTIVELY USING toddler. And did anyone offer to help me, you might be asking yourself? With the exception of the flight attendant walking by and placing several more air sick bags next to me, the answer is no.
We finally took off (oh yes, this was all before we had even left the ground) and Emma sobbed. And then screamed. And then cried. And writhed while doing all three nonstop throughout the flight as I got increasingly sick. Now, by this point, even if I was just a writer, I would have known that there was something legitimately medically wrong with me; but because I am actually also a nurse, I definitely knew, like didn’t need to break out the old Web MD, that these symptoms were worthy of concern. Uncontrollable stabbing back and abdominal pain with pretty constant vomiting mixed with sweating and chills? It equals more than just some good times in the health department.
Emma finally fell asleep about five minutes before we landed in Charlotte. Yes you read that correctly – she fell asleep just a mere 1 hour and 45 minutes into the flight, which means she had sobbed uncontrollably for every single second since we boarded. Upon landing, the pilot came on to the PA system and did the classic “your gate is not ready” speech. This news gave me a chance to practice my best Exorcist impression for the flight attendant where I pretty much suggested (through gritted, clenched, pain 9 on a scale of 10 teeth) that she might want to tell the pilot to find us a gate Right. That. Minute. Since I am pretty sure that she is still waiting for a thank you for the extra air sick bags, I am fairly certain that I did not make her favorite flyer list for that performance.
The only and I mean only upside to this story is that Robert was flying back to Charlotte from a different trip at the same time and was able to meet us at our gate, which being post 9/11 would not have been possible otherwise, so I knew that he could take over with Emma once we landed. I had been able to call him from the runway to let him know what was going on, so he had my dad en route to take Emma home, as he knew that we were heading straight to the hospital. Upon arriving at our gate, which was quickly procured after the flight attendant realized that the lady in aisle five was possibly dying (not really, although it totally felt like I could have been), the medics boarded the plane. While one carried the still sleeping Emma (thank you, Lord) to my waiting husband, another loaded me up right there on a stretcher and carried me off the plane.
I was then taken by ambulance with extremely high blood pressure (duh!) where it was determined that I was having a severe kidney stone attack. One of my best girlfriends summed it perfectly when she said to me upon hearing the story that either of these scenarios (Emma crying hysterically for the entire flight OR the kidney stone attack on an airplane) would have made for a horrible travel story, but the combination was like something out of a really bad nightmare. I am so thankful to be able to have come out the other side, and, I hope, to have passed my horror travel experience test with a merit badge for life now earned.
