Why?

Despite my attempts to skip beach camping with my family and watch trashy TV while eating junk food, I eventually headed up there.

The first night I arrived, the propane gave out in the motorhome.  The kids took cold showers and screamed as if we were pulling them apart limb by limb.

We were concerned someone might actually think we were abusing them so we took them over to the public showers in the campground the following night.

This sounded like a good idea.

First step, Cash immediately removed his shoes.

"Cash, you need to put your shoes back on buddy.  This floor has lots and lots and lots of germs.  If you get your feet dirty from this shower floor, they will shrivel up and fall off and you'll never be able to walk again."

"OK mommy" he says with a smile and puts on his shoes.

Somehow we manage to wash off the little one without getting all of our clothes, precariously perched on a shelf, wet.  Cash kept feeding tokens into the machine so I'm fairly certain the shower cost us $50 but I didn't care as long as his feet had shoes on them.

Then things went downhill...fast.

Declan decided to start screaming because he was done.  Cash wanted to help and ran to open the shower door.

"NOOOOO!" Chris and and screamed in unison.

Cash starts wailing because, after all, he was only trying to help let Declan out and now mom and dad are screaming at him.

Declan throws his towel on the floor.  "Ahhh!  That's a brand new towel!  Now I have to burn it!" I yelled.

Cash, now completely worked up, SITS HIS NAKED BUTT ON THE PUBLIC SHOWER FLOOR.

"NOOOOOO!" Chris and I both yell.  I grab Cash's arms and pull him off the floor and quickly rush him under the eternally running shower.

"Can you get me his towel?" I say to Chris.

"What!?!?  I can't hear you.  The kids are screaming too loud!"

I swear, my ears are bleeding from all the screaming reverberating off the tile walls.

We eventually escape, needing to burn only half our clothes and towels that landed on the dirty floor.  I turn to Chris, "That will never happen again.  Our kids will just have to be filthy for the rest of the trip" I griped.

I should take a moment to mention something very important about my husband, he is very, VERY laid back.  I can could on one hand the number of times he's yelled out of anger in our 10 years of marriage.  He simply doesn't get upset and rolls with the punches.

It drives me insane.

He looked at me, and in all seriousness, said, "Why?"

*sigh*

I Hate My Job...

I'm 3 1/2 months pregnant.  I'm sick.  I'm miserable.  I hate everyone.

We beach camp every year.  Weather reports for this weekend forecast miserable, hot, and muggy.  While everyone is cooling down with an ice cold beer, I'll be chugging water, trying my best to bury barf in the sand.

I'm in some fairly tense negotiations at work.  Thanks to the crowded calendars of my team, I had to schedule three meetings this week and I'll miss the first few days of camping.

"Honey!  We've had this planned for 6 months!  You can't work around it?" my husband asked, annoyed.

"I'm sorry, I did my best but I can't miss these meetings" I said honestly.

...And I've got a standing date with my DVR, several episodes of the Real Housewives of the OC and Judge Judy, a Rubio's Baja Grill Burrito - extra guac, no salsa fresca, Air-Conditioning, and a warm shower.

Not exactly suffering.... but no one has to know...

Open mouth...insert foot

My work wants to send me to Minnesota for training.  I asked Chris, ‘Hey hon, I’m heading to Minnesota.  It’s over our anniversary and I think it might be a nice trip away.  Want to go with me?’

‘What on earth is there to do in Minnesota?!?!?’ he asked.

‘Don’t sound like such an ignorant Californian.  There’s a ton to do in Minnesota!’ I yelled.

‘Sure Babe.  Name one thing.’ he responded, a cocky smile on his face.

‘Um. There’s uh… um…’

Crap.