Camping Trip In Hell

Today's guest post comes to you from Mandy at Just Gimme Coffee. Like me, Mandy loves good coffee, chocolate, and reading and writing. (Hopefully) unlike me, she has a nightmare camping story to share with you today. So sit back, relax, and grab a fan, because you'll need to cool off after reading this!

I am so glad that I’m not on vacation right now with my husband and son. Yes, I do love them and we do typically take family trips together, but when my husband started talking about this trip in its planning stages, I knew it was nothing I wanted to be a part of. You see, they are camping…in a tent…in August of all things!

Now you might be saying, “Don’t knock it until you try it.” Well, I have, and I didn’t like it! Oh about eight years ago, when my son was two, we were headed to a family reunion in Virginia around the Fourth of July. We decided that we’d make it a fun, family trip and go camping nearby.

My husband was the “experienced” camper in the family, so I turned over most of the decision making to him (mistake #1). He chose the site, bought the gear, and packed the car. I assisted with toiletries and food, two things I figured he might want, but wouldn’t necessarily do well packing. Once the car was all set we excitedly got inside and drove off on our little adventure…and what an adventure it turned out to be!

I hate to be hot. I spent the first 12 years of my life hot in the south with no air conditioning in our house. I don’t care to repeat those 12 years of unending summertime sultriness. I can handle some temporary heat when I know cool relief is coming, but I can’t abide long, unending periods of hotness. Well here we were camping in the south in July (mistake #2), so of course it’s going to be insufferably hot and humid! Not to worry, we had brought along two fans for that very reason. Well, remember mistake #1, allowing my husband to make the decisions? We set up our tent and I went to plug in the fans, and there were no electrical hook-ups anywhere around.

Not a problem, I’ll put on my swimsuit and take a dip in the pool. Let me refer you back to mistake #1 with my husband making the decisions…NO POOL! No shade trees at our site either. So I’m standing there dripping with sweat after wrestling with the so-called easy to assemble tent while chasing down an insane two-year-old, and my husband and son are starting to feel hungry. You mean this hot mama who can find no relief from the heat has to stand over a hot stove and fix a hot meal? That’s too much heat for me. Uh-uh, I think I saw a movie theater on our way in that I’m sure has air conditioning. We’re going to go see a movie and eat popcorn for lunch. I’m sure it’s one of the major food groups.

So we got into the car and drove towards blessed, sweet relief in the form of an air-conditioning unit. By the time we pulled into the parking lot, the car AC had finally started to do its job, but not matter, we headed in, bought 3 tickets for Lilo and Stitch, our popcorn and soda lunch and sat down in the cool of the theatre. Things were looking up! The movie was as good as could be expected with a two-year-old boy who I swear is Stitch in human form.

We milked our time in the borrowed air conditioning for as long as we could. I don’t think I’ve ever watched all the credits from a movie before, but I saw the name of every single person who had anything remotely to do with making this movie. Finally, we decided it was time to clear out when the theater staff came in to clean up the room for the next showing. I’ve never walked as slowly out of a place as I did out of that cool, dark theater and back into the hot, blazing sun. Reality socked me in the face as soon as I stepped out of the door. I was back in hell.

We returned to the campsite and I took a LONG, COLD shower and eventually got around to preparing our supper. As I stood there slaving over the hot stove, I sipped on the only thing cold around, a Coke. I’d cook a little, drink a little, cook a little, drink a little, cook a little…hot damn! What is that! I spit out the Coke, threw the can down to the ground and grabbed my mouth. Apparently a yellow jacket was feeling the heat a little too much as well and decided to take a dip in my Coke can to cool off. Only, he wasn’t planning on drowning, so when I tipped the can up to take a sip, he tried to come flying out, stinger first, right into my lip! My husband had the gall to laugh at me. I threw the pan at him and stomped off to take another LONG, COLD shower! I hardly slept a wink that night.

The next morning we got up and headed out for the family reunion bit of the trip. Needless to say I was less than thrilled to show up to see all these people I hadn’t seen for years looking like I’d been rode hard and put up wet and with a swollen lip to boot!

So back to that trip my husband and son are on right now…I’m so glad I’m not there (please refer back to mistake #2), and I hope they’re sleeping okay because I just walked into my son’s room and there, on his floor, sits the box that contains the air mattresses and sheets. May I refer you back to Mistake #1 above? Oh I’ve learned from these mistakes, but apparently my husband hasn’t! I love him anyway…as I sit here in my air conditioning after returning from a dip in the pool and sipping my Coke in the safety of my own home far, far away from stinging insects!

The smokin hot red sundress

Today's guest post comes to you from Koby at Not All Who Wander Are Lost. I don't really even know what to say to introduce her post because her worst travel experience really is that bad. So without further ado...here it is:

_________________________

Daddio and I had been dating for a couple of years and had never EVER been separated when his sister asked if he would be willing to transport (by car) all of her belongings from Michigan to California.

 

His sister and her husband and their two small children were relocating.

 

Her husband had gone ahead and found an apartment and now he wanted his family to join him.

 

She’d rent a truck, pack up all the stuff, and he would simply drive the crap 1,981 miles to her new home.

 

He jumped on the offer, then recruited a good friend to go along for the drive.

 

In the mean time his sister went to work on me.

 

“Would you be willing to help me get the kids to California?” she asked.

 

I heard…..“WANT TO GO TO HOLLYWOOD???”

 

I too jumped at the offer.

 

I mean, seriously how hard could it be to help with two little darlings, (a son 2 ½ and a daughter 11 months) on a couple of hour plane ride??

 

Daddio and I would be separated for three weeks total…three weeks is an eternity when you are young and in love.

 

I knew Daddio would miss me while we were apart….and my plan was to knock his socks off when he saw me again after being apart three WHOLE weeks.

 

In my minds eye I pictured myself coming down the walkway looking like a supermodel.

 

I wanted that man to W…A..N…T.... me….!!!

 

I commissioned my cousin to make me a summer dress. I wanted to wear something that Daddio had never seen.

 

I choose a beautiful stunning red and white material and a pattern that screamed… H…O…T….

 

It was low cut and fitted.

 

Daddio’s sister and I prepared for the five hour flight with the children.

 

(Can you ever really prepare for a five hour flight with children??)

 

We packed toys, and food and candy and gum.

 

And we would have packed liquor, except they were both underage.

 

(In hindsight, we should have packed some for ourselves).

 

Daddio’s sister had her hands full with her energetic toddler and I was incredibly glad that when she asked “which one do you want?”  I wisely chose her sweet baby daughter.

 

I felt lucky to be holding the sleeping angel while she ran up and down the skinny aisle chasing her tiny mobile tot.

 

She did damage control when the kid hit people with his toy car.

 

And when he threw his food.

 

And when he began to scream and all the people turned around in their seats to look at us, lucky me had a baby to hide behind.

 

The baby woke up about half way to California.

 

Her brother’s screams woke everybody up …

 

She woke up hungry and congested.

 

Her nose was a gooey, green mess.

 

I worked on cleaning her up and dug in my bag to find something for her to eat.

 

Normally an easy going baby who would eat anything and everything placed within reaching distance, today she wanted nothing to do with anything except drinks and Melba Toast.

 

Crumbly, crunchy, brown Melba Toast .

 

I'm pretty sure (since I've become a mother myself) that the kid was in the trenches of teething.

 

She munched and crunched her Melba Toast…and was pretty content as long as I handed her chunk after chunk.

 

Keeping her nose clean and her attitude in check was a full time job on that flight.

 

About an hour before we got to California I began to get a little overheated.

 

I was so warm, I was beginning to feel a bit wet.

 

As we got closer to our destination I realized I was soaked.

 

It never dawned on me that the baby could be peeing through her diaper.

 

We’d changed her diaper once, but the quarters were sooooo tight that we didn't attempt to do it again.

 

I should have figured that those economy diapers wouldn't hold 6 bottles worth of pee.

 

The E…N…T…I…R…E… front of my dress, my S…E…X..Y, H…O…T  red sundress was covered in baby pee.

 

When we stood up to deplane, I realized that it had soaked through to the back as well.

 

I noticed too that the cotton material of the sundress was bunched up like an accordion in the front…

 

Some of the  pee had dried and caused the material to reshape…. I tried to smooth it out, but the cotton wasn't budging.

 

So my sundress was about 6 inches shorter in the front.

 

My hair was a sweaty mess.

 

My mascara had run.

 

And stuffed deep into the cleavage created by my S..M…O…K…I…N…. H..O…T…, S…E…X…Y… tight fitting new red sundress was a hunk of soggy Melba Toast which Daddio plucked out saying….“Man, you look like hell.”

Don't Upset the Traveling Pregnant Lady

I'm on vacation today! I'm visiting with my family in Pennsylvania this weekend, and since I won't have access to a computer Amy over at The Adventures of JAMC graciously agreed to write a guest post for me. Amy writes about her experience travelling with a toddler and another little one on the way...she's a braver woman than I for making the trip. Read on...

________________________________________

I'm so excited to guest post for Lynn today!  I found her blog a few weeks ago, and quickly became a follower.  So when I heard she was looking for guest posts...particularly guest posts about traveling with kids?  I immediately thought of a time when I traveled with my toddler while seven months pregnant. 

We had just moved to Arizona a few months prior, and I was really anxious to go home to Texas and see my parents and brother and sister.  My son, Mason, was 23 months, and I was 7 months pregnant with my son, Connor.  Though I was looking forward to the week in Texas, I wasn't too excited about the trip itself.  First of all, Mason was a super active toddler.  That's putting it mildly.  So to have to get to the airport an hour early and try to keep him happy (and safe!), and then take a two hour flight with him on my lap?  Yeah, that didn't sound too fun to me.  My husband was coming with us, but Mason was in a stage where he only wanted me.  He was also in the stage of massive temper tantrums.  World War III type tantrums.  Over the littlest things.  To top it all off, I was 7 months pregnant, huge, and with very minimal bladder control.  Not to mention emotional and constantly imagining the worst case scenarios.  It was shaping up to be an awesome trip.

We got to the airport, got checked in, and made it through the one hour wait.  Our flight was actually on time (score!), and we were in high spirits.  Even Mason.  We'd taken turns running him around the airport in his stroller, he'd had his snack, I'd changed his diaper, and we were ready to go!  We still had the two hour flight ahead of us, but it was also now Mason's nap time, and he was already looking droopy.  We got in line to board, and handed the gate attendant our tickets.  As he scanned them the scanner buzzed.  You know, the kind of buzz you hear when a game show contestant gets an answer wrong.  I felt my first flutter of panic.  He scanned them again.  Buzz.  He pursed his lips, looked up at me, and said, “Um, there seems to be a problem with your tickets.  If you could just step out of line and go see *Elaine at the check in desk...” My husband and I both looked at each other.  Then we did just as the man said. 

As we approached Elaine she had an extra bright smile plastered on her face.  You know the smile.  The smile you learn in customer service training.  The smile you give customers that says, “Hi, we're about to totally screw you, but we're going to try to make you feel just great about it!” In her cheerful “isn't life just wonderful” voice she proceeded to explain that the flight had been overbooked and so our seats were already taken.  They did, however, have another flight to our destination leaving in a mere THREE HOURS.  And, as a bonus for our troubles, they would give us a $200 flight voucher!  She finished her spiel and flashed that smile again.  I don't know how she expected us to react, but I clearly surprised her.

I promptly burst into tears.

My husband patted me on the back as I tried, unsuccessfully, to get my tears under control.  Elaine fluttered her hands and said, “Ohhhh...no, no, no....don't cry!  You're still going to get to GO...it's just a little later...and you get an extra flight voucher...”  Other passengers in line stared at me, wondering what could possibly have upset me so much.  Elaine kept trying to tell me that I was really getting a great deal.  I admit I had to fight the urge to scream, “Only three more hours?!  ONLY three more hours?!  Have you people ever traveled with a toddler?!  Do you know how long three hours is when you have a toddler?!” Obviously Elaine had never dealt with a toddler.  And she was looking at me like I was the crazy one?  My husband, sensing a complete meltdown (and not by our toddler), accepted the voucher and led me to a seat in the lounge.  He sat me down and said he would push Mason around the airport while I just...relaxed...a bit. 

I sat in the airport, tears pouring down my face, trying to breathe, and hating my pregnancy hormones.  What finally calmed me down was a kind lady waiting for the next flight who touched my hand and said, “Are you OK?”  I explained what had happened, and that I was also pregnant (you know, cause I'm sure she missed my gargantuan stomach), and she completely sympathized with me.  For whatever reason this made me feel vindicated and I was able to stop crying and call my parents to tell them we would be on a different flight. 

Were those three hours as smooth as the first hour?  Absolutely not.  Mason was tired and cranky and we had to spend money we really didn't have to eat something in the airport.  I dared someone to say something as he had a monster tantrum in the middle of the lounge floor.  No one did.  I think everyone was smart enough to know you don't mess with a pregnant lady.  Finally Mason fell asleep.  And woke up right as we boarded our flight.  Which meant a lot of screaming on the plane.  I felt bad for the other passengers, but there was nothing that could be done.  As Mason finally settled down for the last 40 minutes of the flight, I found myself thinking that all airport employees should have to travel with a toddler in the same circumstances as part of their training.  I bet you wouldn't see much overbooking then!

The week in Texas was great, and (thankfully!) our flight back home was completely uneventful.  Mason even slept during it.  But the next time we went to Texas?  We drove.