Off the Road Again Part 3: The Final Insult

The River Road

As is always the case, all good things must come to an end. It was difficult to admit that our vacation was wrapping up and that we would have to caravan back to Maryland and then venture home. I was not terribly interested in getting back in the car with The Vomiter (H). I wanted to get back on a plane with H and Baby C even less!

The River Road

And so with heavy hearts, and de-vomited Dodge Nitro rental, we headed South.

Funny (or not so funny, depending on your perspective) Smith Family-Type things that happened on our trip:

1. Mr. Smith yelled at our children, while we were lost in Virginia, attempting to find our way to our Georgetown hotel, "For the love of God, shuuuut UUUUUPPPP!" I don't think Baby C has ever even heard him raise his voice, so she just about jumped out of her skin, and burst out crying. H was already completely fried from too much travel and not enough food, so he burst out crying. Nothing like a family trip to draw everyone closer together!

2. Mr. Smith (new to the Waverly area) was unaware of the fact that a portion of the famed River Road is a one-way road. As he drove the wrong way, the natives shouted at him as he drove past. Afraid of incurring the wrath of the locals on his return trip, he looped the really really long way around to get back home.

3. One of our 10 person caravan party ended up in this urgent care during our return trip. After much discussion, this person (who shall remain nameless, Vertigo B respects HIPAA around here, people!) ended up being taken by ambulance from this lovely Urgent Care Facility

to spend an all expenses-paid, fun-filled night in a hospital with a guest of their choice. These nice people even accept patients that just happen to be driving by and having a health crisis! At the end of the whole thing, despite the stress, extra driving and turmoil, everything is okay...not to worry. All 10 people participating in said caravan are intact and relatively healthy.

4. In Dulles airport, Baby C and I got on the wrong shuttle, almost taking us to the wrong terminal, thus almost missing our flight. Mr. Smith and H were standing outside screaming at us to get off the shuttle, I could not hear him and was already pretty pissed that we were so late AGAIN. We got off the stupid shuttle and sprinted to the right shuttle. As we were strolling clambering onto the correct shuttle, H's 1,234 foot long shoelaces (don't ask) got stuck in the super safe grate, immediately causing H to do a dramatic faceplant in front of the stroller that I am pushing at top speed. I almost ran him over in my haste to get on the right goddamn shuttle.

This is the only photo I could find. They are about the size of a smallish train car, but just as crappy in real life.

Dulles Airport has the stones to call these damn things "Mobile Lounges." It has made me hate the marketing people at Dulles. Looks nice and comfy doesn't it? Cuz it isn't. And the people were almost as hostile as a bunch of Southern Californians!

5. As we were checking our luggage, H spots a set of presidential toy cars for sale at the handy dandy airport gift shop. Of course, he completely ignores the fact that he already owns this particular gift item (courtesy of Aunt Michele, thank you). He flips out and chants through the luggage check-in, security fiasco line, and sprint to our gate, "I need Barack Obama's motorcade! I need Barack Obama's motorcade!" As we arrived at the gate, H really got going, throwing himself on the floor, and Mr. Smith encouraged me to ignore him. Mr. Smith and I had a micro spat about that, since it is impossible for me to ignore a short person following me around, yelling at me. Call me kooky, my ears just don't work that way.



6. As we were exiting the stupid shuttle thingy, we had so much crap that we left the all-important diaper bag behind. A very long-suffering gentleman was kind enough to hand it to me as he gave me an exasperated look while exiting the stupid shuttle-thingy. For his kindness, he was rewarded by not only being on our flight, but he was further punished for his good deed by having to sit next to our loud cranky asses. That's right, MISERY is embroidered into our family crest, bitches!

7. Once we arrive at LAX, aka Hell on Earth, we were taking a Super Shuttle to our home. We waited for said shuttle. Since we had 8,371 bags, we reserved our own van. Immediately after the van pulls up, H launches into an epic tantrum, screaming, crying and chanting over and over again, "I wanna go home to Maryland! I wanna go home to Maryland and Pop Pop!" Because of the hysteria, the driver proceeds to break every California traffic law and get us home in record time (I am thinking, chiefly to get the little butthead out of the car). That would have been fine, if there had been ANY shock absorbers on the van. It was like riding in a Conestoga Wagon at about 85 mph.


8. H woke up at 2:30 the next morning. He was on Eastern Daylight Time and would not be negotiated with on the point of sleep. We got up. It was an incredibly long ugly day. Turns out, H is now juuuust tall enough to set off the burglar alarm. Not the little innocuous beeping of the door opening and closing. Nope, the actual 5-alarm siren that screams out the chimney. He set it off and Mr. Smith and I did not realize what the odd noise was until after the alarm company had called AND had alerted the police. At this point, I informed H that he would be going to jail for his crimes. He protested, so I made sure that he saw the friendly deputy and was exactly afraid enough to nip his one man crime spree in the bud (or butt as Mr. Boss used to say). It was all he could talk about for the rest of the long ass day.

9. Mr. Smith do you have anything else to add?

I am not sure what the moral of this story is. I guess I just hope you found it entertaining. I don't know, I feel a little better now, don't you?

Perfection...

Contraband Penne Primavera

This past weekend was pure perfection. Busy, but not hectic. Happy, with a minimum of crying, tantrums, and whining. H and Baby C were good too.

Aunt Maureen has been visiting us and she was kind enough to smuggle some Birney Farm contraband vegetables to our undisclosed location front door. We got a box heavy with luscious zucchini, yellow squash, cucumbers, potatoes and tomatoes. It was like winning the lottery. Turns out the post office doesn't bat an eye if a box you ship across the country is leaking dirt. Good thing, we would have all been in trouble. Also a good thing we were able to eat all the incriminating, yet delicious evidence!

Friday night I made homemade pepperoni pizza. I know, I know, it is easier to call and have one delivered, but the results are worth a little extra work. And really, how much extra work is it to throw the ingredients into the mixer with the dough hook and knead the heck out of it? It just requires you to start dinner a little earlier in the afternoon.

Pizza Crust Recipe

3 1/2 cups flour (I have even used 1 cup of whole wheat flour with 2 1/2 cups white flour)
2 Tablespoons yeast
1/2 teaspoon salt (I use kosher)
1 cup warm water
1/4 cup olive oil

Mix the ingredients together and knead until a nice ball forms. Oil the bowl and let it the dough rise for about one hour (or until doubled in size). Punch dough down and let until doubled again. Punch down and roll out to fit your pizza pan.

IMPORTANT: Drizzle and spread some olive oil on the crust before spreading sauce (it keeps the the crust from soaking up the sauce).

Add any sauce and any toppings that curl your toes.

Get your oven fired up to 500° and bake the pizza for about 10 minutes. Keep an eye on it so it doesn't get too dark on the bottom.

Then on Saturday, we all went to The Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens in Pasadena (the land of Mr. Smith's birth). All the photography is courtesy of Mr. Smith, aspiring shutterbug.


Can I just say, what a lovely oasis. It is quiet and serene. There are several art exhibits in the different buildings, a variety of gardens, etc. If you haven't been and you are in the area, I highly recommend checking it out.

Sprinting through Shakespeare's Garden

Naturally, we were with the Little People, so we spent the majority of our time in The Children's Garden.

Entrance to the Children's Garden

To be honest, I wasn't expecting much. I was pleasantly surprised. It is well thought out and perfect for even our disgruntled little girl. There are fountains, jumpy water and other kidcentric fun.

I can go in, I can go out

Whoops, only splashed himself

Vibrating water thingy, very popular

Baby C weighs her options

Our little Water Baby

IncrediBoy sprints (against the rules) through a flower bed

Caroline works on levitation

Baby C growling at a carved fish

On Sunday, Mr. Smith and I went to breakfast at The Original Pancake House. It is the only way we can have a meeting without being interrupted between 15 and 20 times each hour. Their Buttermilk Pancakes are to die for, I tell you, just die for. Light, fluffy, perfect vehicle for butter and syrup...all at a reasonable price. Find one near you and go.

We then hit Trader Joe's and found some wonderful bargains. By the way, try their frozen cheese and chili tamales, you will be so glad you did. Add some sour cream and salsa, then pick yourself up off the floor, and take the second bite. The Monkey also gives two thumbs up to the Joe's Diner Macaroni and Cheese.

After that, Pop Pop and Mr. Smith agreed to baby wrangle for a few hours while I went to see Julie and Julia with my mother and Aunt Maureen. Wonderful movie, eat before you go or you will end up devouring a seat cushion. I felt like some kind of heretic eating movie theater nachos while watching the movie! I may even have girl crush on Meryl Streep!

Sunday night we had a wonderful dinner at Trabuco Oaks Steakhouse. Wonderful steak, both children held it together until we were done with dinner.

And when I looked into the back seat, this is what I saw:

My darling children holding hands while we drove home from dinner.

All in all, I could not ask for anything more, so I won't!

Off the Road Again...Part 1

First off, let me ease everyone's mind, we are all fine. Things have been kind of nuts, in a good way for a change, around here. The cookie cake was wonderful. Here is a shot of a piece of it. I can't advise you strongly enough to make it a few days ahead, it makes a HUGE difference.



The Smith Family Players have been on the road, so the posting has been extremely light. Turns out traveling with two children under four can be time-consuming AND stressful! I do not recommend it.

This was our first trip with Baby C. She has actually proven to be a pretty good traveler, that is if you aren't really attached to the concept of a decent night's sleep. She and her brother are morning people, loud morning people.



I am not exactly sure what I did wrong in my last life, but I (not a morning person) have been thrust into a family of morning people. My "birth family" are all morning people and my husband is a morning person, and, heaven help me, my children are both morning people.

I, on the other hand, am an insomniac night owl. They torture me endlessly and I guzzle coffee. Such is life.

I can remember traveling with my parents and my brother on family vacations. Spending countless hours wedged into the back seat of a Pontiac Firebird (my father has a Jim Rockford complex to this day), getting more and more carsick. Luckily, I discovered Dramamine and was able to sleep through most of the later travels. That however, made sleeping at night difficult at best. My night owl tendencies did not make me popular with my family of morning people.

The next morning, I would be groggy and in a foul mood while the rest of my family was bouncing around, showering, going to breakfast and just generally being obnoxious. And so it went, until I could stop traveling with these people.

For years I traveled on my own. I kept a much more leisurely pace and was happy with it. I completely kicked my motion sickness issues and actually enjoyed travel. I would arrive early and end up waiting for my flights. I could get through security without creating a huge bottleneck at the metal detector. It was wonderful.

Now, I am married and have two children. Travel is much more difficult and daunting when you have small children.


I am THAT woman. That one with with the crazy hair, sweating profusely, using 850 bins to get all her belongings through the stupid scanner at the TSA check at the airport. Yup, that woman is now me. I see the rolling eyes. I feel the anguish of the people that are stuck behind us. Turns out you have to have your shoes scanned even if you are only 14 months old!

Yes, that was us being paged in LAX to report to the gate. Yes, we were exactly that late for our flight. We were the last people to board our flight (no small feat with a car seat, about 215,978,321 bags and two pissed off kids). We went through that airport at a dead run and barely made it.

By the way, Virgin America is fantastic. Love love love them. The food is awesome, love the whole, order-your-food-and-have-it-delivered-to-your-seat-concept. My ONLY complaint is the flight attendants on our return flight (the two women, actually one may have been a man in a skirt, there is no way to be 100% sure without embarrassing everyone) were total beyatches. You know who you are. You know, the one that called me "Sweetie" and told me that I could not change my son's diaper in my seat, despite the fact that there was a line 8 people deep for the stupid bathroom.

Otherwise, your little airline has my full support.

Here are a few shots of where we were headed.


It is a magical land called Waverly, New York. My aunt and uncle have a farm there and we all gathered for a family reunion.

I have not been back for over 9 years, so this was a pretty big deal. The last time I visited, I was single and childless. My goodness, so many changes in so little time!

But more about that later!

The Recipe for Disaster...

This evening, Mr. Smith and I were discussing our upcoming family excursion. Suddenly, I was filled with that old sense of complete panic. What just a damn minute, this has all happened before!

Then I remembered. We have, in fact, tried traveling (just over night) with the H and Baby C. Mr. Smith considers this one of my greatest hits so I wanted to share it with all of you.

Here is the Smith fan-damn-ly in ALL their glory. Say a little prayer that you aren't in the room next to us any time soon.

Grammy and Pop Pop wanted to have the rugs cleaned. So, we decided to try a mini vacation at Disneyland. We thought it would be a fun little getaway. We could not have been more wrong. A warning: this is long. It took me a long time to write it, but it seemed so much longer when we were living it. Read it at your own risk!

December 3, 2008 approximately 11:57 am - The Smith family arrives at Hotel Hell. We were dropping off Mr. Smith’s car and then planning on heading to Disneyland for the day. When we arrive, we discover that they are resurfacing the parking lot and we will have to park 1/4 mile from the front of the stupid hotel and lug all our belongings to our room.



12:15 pm - We arrive at Disneyland.

1:33 pm - We have lunch.

4:57 pm - We decide to cut our losses and leave the park.

5:17 pm - We get into our room.

6:18 pm - The room is destroyed.


6:30 pm - Baby C goes to bed under extreme duress since we have no swing. Yes, she still sleeps the swing. I know, I know.

7:15 pm - We have dinner.


8:00 pm - I make the mistake of opening the sofa bed for The H and he proceeds to jump on it for the next 15 minutes while I yell at him to stop.

8:30 pm - I end up laying down with him on The Most Uncomfortable Sofa Bed in All of Humanity. The H finally goes to sleep, turns out he snores.

9:00 pm - I very quietly (not really) get out of The Most Uncomfortable Sofa Bed in All of Humanity and sneak into our bed. I am almost crippled due to the wafer thin mattress on The Most Uncomfortable Sofa Bed in All of Humanity.

10:40 pm - Baby C wakes up screaming. I am somehow able to nurse her and get her to go back to sleep briefly.

December 4, 2008 approximately 2:18 am - Baby C wakes up crying. I try to nurse her, but this time, no dice. She just escalates to full on screaming.

2:41 am - The H wakes up and has no interest in sleeping.

2:46 am - I decide to take our wailing infant daughter to the car. I figure if the car gets carjacked, they will take the baby and I will be able to get some damn sleep. While I am hoping someone steals her, I fall asleep for about 5 minutes. Then, as I sit in the car listening to her cry, I look back up at the hotel and see one lone light on in the entire place. It is our room. I pine for the luxury of a bed. I briefly toy with the idea of driving home and leaving her in her swing and returning to Anaheim.

3:34 am - Mr. Smith sends me a text message to let me know that our son is still awake and watching Monsters, Inc. on his DVD player.

3:40 am - Baby C and I return to the room. I try once again to put her down. She starts crying immediately. I take both children into the living room. Leaving Mr. Smith to get some sleep in the bedroom.

4:10 am - The lovely people in the room next us pound on the wall to alert us to the fact that our daughter is screaming, crying and hysterical. I am pleased that these generous folks are so kind. We had all failed to notice that someone in our party was inconsolable. I immediately start having revenge fantasies. These vary from breaking into their room and leaving Baby C with them, to knocking on their door and punching them in the face. I am not generally a violent person, but seriously folks. It is not like we had the TV turned up too loud or were partying!

4:15 am - The H informs me that he is hungry and wants food. I am lucky enough to find some Cheerios in the diaper bag and I have some milk left from his dinner the night before. Thankfully, I was smart enough to bring some bowls and spoons. I am also able to find some freeze dried peaches in my bag. He inhales the peaches and immediately demands more. I don’t have any and inform him of that fact. He flips his lid, throws himself on the floor and starts screaming and crying.

4:36 am - Baby C finally goes to sleep with me holding her. The H is still asking for more peaches. I find freeze dried pineapple and banana in the bag. When I offer this, he demands pineapple juice. I, of course, have none. Once again, screaming, crying, throws himself on the floor. Baby C wakes up, immediately starts screaming and crying. Somehow, Mr. Smith manages to sleep through all of this.

6:20 am - Mr. Smith emerges from bedroom.

8:00 am - We can finally order breakfast. Baby C falls asleep. The entire hotel breathes a sigh of relief.

8:25 am - We get breakfast.

8:27 am - Baby C wakes up screaming. She is getting two teeth. She now has 4 bottom teeth and no sign of top teeth. I am not sure what to make of this. She kind of looks like an old lady with no upper plate. To add to the drama she also has diaper rash, diarrhea and some weird rash on her cheeks. Her brother is also having diarrhea. In less than two hours, I have changed 5, count them, 5 poopy diapers!!!

8:45 am - Mr. Smith takes Baby C and is able to get her fall asleep on his chest.

9:40 am - Baby C wakes up screaming and crying.

10:30 am - I am ready to throw in the towel. We are defeated. These children have ground us into a fine powder. We decide that we need to go home, wet rugs or not.

11:30 am - After four trips to the car, we are finally able to vacate the scene of the crime. We get on the elevator, relieved to finally be headed home. As we are exiting the elevator in the lobby, I accidentally hip check The H slamming his head into the metal door. He immediately bursts into tears, a welt instantly appears on his right temple and he collapses onto the floor of the hotel lobby in sobs. Mr. Smith takes Baby C and all the other crap I was carrying. I sit down on the floor of the lobby (a small hostile crowd looks at us in complete disgust) and attempt to console him. Luckily, I have a stash of Matchbox cars for just such an occasion. I got out of this mess by offering him two new cars. Cold comfort for a head injury.

11:45 am - Finally driving back home. Back to the swing. Back to a schedule for these children. Back to free access to pineapple juice. Back to sleep. Before I even pull onto the freeway, before we are speeding home on the 5 South, they are both in comas in their respective car seats, sound asleep. I don’t turn on the radio, I just drive home in silence. I enjoy the occasional sleepy sigh that emanates from the back seat. I think about driving all the way to San Diego just to savor the quiet that is the inside of the car, but instantly realize I would run out of gas or fall asleep while driving.

12:30 pm - We arrive home. Baby C wakes up as soon as I turn the car off. H wakes up as Mr. Smith attempts to lift him from the car. He is upset and confused. I take him upstairs, removing his shoes and socks as I walk. I change his diaper and try to put him in the crib without putting his shorts on. He starts sobbing because he wants his clothes on. I put his shorts back on and he collapses onto the mattress. He is asleep before I can leave the room. He sleeps for 3 hours.

12:35 pm - Baby C goes to sleep in her swing. I hurry downstairs and eat quickly. Hoping to catch a nap before someone wakes up again.

1:40 pm - Baby C wakes up crying yet again. She finally goes to bed at 5:30 pm.

7:40 pm - The H is finally in bed, after much negotiating, book reading, discussion about the finer points of Toy Story, etc.

8:10 pm - I fall into bed, and hope, hope, hope that everyone (including me) sleeps through the night...and they do!

This is what we are walking into by traveling again with these children. I am trying to be brave, but they scare the hell out of me!