The Flat-Butt Follies

We knew it was going to be miserable. So miserable, in fact, that we tried to dress it up and give it a name and fool ourselves into believing it was going to be something, ANYTHING other than what it was, which was grueling, exhausting, and ... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Oh! Sorry. Conked out there for a sec. I was talking about our 4th of July weekend -- a lovely, near-perfect-weather, three-full-days away from work, with our baby, enjoying the enjoyments of rural Minnesota.

We set off in a *bit* of a tizzy, from St. Paul on Friday evening. We'd both snuck out of work just a little early, and we thought we could get quickly packed and then just pick up Lucy from day care on the way out of town. Well... Joel got home first and couldn't find my packing list. Or perhaps, couldn't quite interpret my handwriting. So we had the car packed to the gills and I was going "have we packed towels yet?" and he had no idea.

But let's back up. When you have a three-day weekend with more than three destinations planned, it sure would help to have some sort of idea of what to expect when you got there, right? But this is what we knew:
1. Friday night: Driving 3 hours up to Brandon, to Joel's p's lake. Sleeping in the trailer.
2. Saturday A.M.: Driving 1.5 hours to Cushing, to Adam's p's lake.
3. Sunday P.M.: Driving 10 minutes to Motley to visit with family friends. Then driving 2 more hours up to Bemidji, for Joel's "family reunion."
4. Monday P.M. Driving 4.5 hours back home to St. Paul. Sleeping in our own beds.

You'll note that several vital bits of information are missing here, i.e., where we were sleeping Saturday and Sunday nights. And when you don't know where you're sleeping, it's REALLY hard to know:
a. whether or not there will be any refrigeration available for the copious amounts of baby food it is necessary to lug about for a spirited 10-month-old
b. whether or not the following will be necessary to cram into your Toyota Corolla:
- tent
- pillows
- blankets
- air mattress with cumbersome pump
- cooler (well, that was sort of covered in the refrigeration thing)
c. whether or not there will be coffee available IMMEDIATELY UPON AWAKENING. Oh! Sorry. Didn't mean to yell.
d. whether or not there will be any adult food available upon your arrival, and whether or not said food will have been sitting out in the sun for the previous two days.
e. whether or not you will be changing your extremely rolly and squirmy baby's diaper in any of the following places:
- the floor of a trailer
- the wooden slats of someone's deck
- a sand volleyball court
- the grass
- a table in the middle of a SubWay.

So we packed EVERYTHING we could into the poor, creaking, starting-to-rust-out Corolla. And we drove. And drove. And drove.
And then we'd get out of the car and Lucy would want to walk, walk, walk. And eat, eat, eat.
And I was pretty much too exhausted to enjoy any of the time spent with my friends (it was great, gals, really! Sorry I could barely keep my peepers open), or converse with Joel's family (I nodded and smiled a lot -- heck, Grandpa gets away with it!).

So that was our weekend. Would a van have helped? Possibly. Would detailed phone calls with our actual hosts (rather than relying on second- and third-hand info) have helped? Possibly no -- they probably would have thought we were mental control-freaks who can't just "go with the flow."

YOU go with the flow with a 10-month-old, a tick-infested mongrel and a rusted-out Corolla. Call me when you're done picking Cheerios out of your toe-cracks. But leave a message, 'cuz I"ll be napping.