Monday, October 15, 2007

M. Eye. Double S. Eye. Double S. Eye. P.P. Eye

Well, we are back from the land of Mississippi from a visit with the inlaws and outlaws. The Husband's fraternal side of the fam lives there, so we loaded up the Loser Cruiser (aka Van) and headed out for the weekend. The State Fair was in town. If you are ever in some sort of an ego crisis, an afternoon at the state fair should cure you in minutes. The kids had a ball, we loved seeing the cousins, and it was a really nice trip all the way around.

We all pile up at Cousin Sandra's house and take over the place. She's got a husband and two kids of her own to deal with. I have nothing but love and respect for that family--I don't know anyone else stupid enough, er, generous enough to say, "Sure! Y'all can stay at our house!" and then commit to feeding us and hauling us around for three days. They must be delusional or really good Christians.

The Husband and I run their dear daughter out of her room and bunk there on a twin bed and a pop-up bed shoved together. Adventure sleeping. The four girls sleep in the play room on a blow-up mattress, and the two boys sleep in his bunk beds. Well, that's the theoretical sleeping arrangement. What really happens is that the 3-yr-old sleeps with me until I carry her three times to her bed and finally give up about the time that the 5-yr-old son shows up and wants in for a 'snuggle' too. Trying to squeeze my big rear end and two kids into a twin sized bed is definitely Adventure sleeping.

So, for the road trip, I made these travel kits for the kids with new journals and pens and crayons and activity books. I also sprung for some cheap CD players and some kids songs CDs. (Add points to Perfect Mommy Title.) Well, Carter spent most of the trip screaming from the back seat in the van questions about the song lyrics on the CD he had in his pack. Stuff like, "What does 'salt of the earth' mean?" And "What does 'prince of peace' mean?" And "What does every told come pass?" Which I'm pretty sure was supposed to be "every tongue confess". By the end of the trip I'd had enough theological discussion with my son to earn some sort of honorary seminary degree. I also found myself wishing that I'd put the rock-n-roll oldies CD in his travel kit instead of the Bible Songs. Ha! (Points off the Perfect Mommy Title).

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