Mothers Don't Vacation

We got home Monday evening after a long weekend in Branson. Most of our family is referring to the weekend as a vacation. For me, the mother, the only time I vacationed was when I ran ahead of everyone in the outlet mall and hid in a clothing rack for the whole 5 minutes it took them to find me. On the trip down to Branson, Max did pretty well for the first hour or so. Then he insisted on being held and screamed bloody murder when we put him in his car seat. Don't preach at me about car seat safety. I'm from the generation that rode in the car's back window. Plus - my husband is the best driver in the world. However, I was mad at him during most of the trip to Branson. While I was wrestling with the heavy, squirmy, fussy baby and refereeing fights between the other two, Blake was listening to his iPod and using his noise-canceling earphones. Can't you just see it? Chaos in the back of the van and an oddly blissful driver oblivious to all of it! I thought I was going to actually get physical with him when he shouted back (he shouts when wears the ear buds) that he was having such a great time on the trip! Speaking of getting physical, I'm thinking of investing in my own noise canceling ear buds so I can cancel some noise the next time he's thinking of "getting physical".

Honestly - we had an awesome weekend. I'll blog more about all the funnies later. I'm especially excited to tell of Marcus' tragic experience on the Ride The Duck adventure. Not only was he mistaken for a woman, he was trapped between a bossy grandmother and her husband who had a breathing disorder. Good stuff - stay tuned!