Hello, My Name Is...

What?

My name is..

What? 

My name is

(wicka wicka) 

Slacky McSlacksalot.

I agree, it doesn't have the same ring as 'Slim Shady', but it does have a big fat grain of TRUTH.  As in, somebody has not been keeping up with the old blogeroonie these days.

Truth be told, we've been doing so many bloggable things, that I'm a little overwhelmed at the task of blogging it all.  But there's nothing like a good challenge to dive into, no?  So let's dive, shall we?

SPRING BREAK, DAY ONE...

Two weeks ago, the kids and I enjoyed their Spring Break by trying to cram as many activities as we could dream up into one week.  The reality was that the weather was freezing, and most of their classmates were headed for warmer climates (our timing was a bit off this year!).  So we decided to create a mini-bucket list of all the things we'd been dreaming of doing but couldn't because two certain someones are otherwised indesposed Monday through Friday.

Number one on the kids' list was, as you can guess from the picture of Molly above, SWIMMING!  We went to an indoor pool in the next town over.  It's called Pelican Harbor and has an enormous outdoor water park for summer, but a small, fun for the kids pool during winter.  There was a lap pool and another zero entry pool with a small slide for the toddlers and three bigger slides for the older kids.

Ben of course, did the obligatory "let's give mom a heart attack" routine and ran into the water as fast as he could until he was over his head and drowning.  Until recently, this was always Jack's job.  But baby brother played the role admirably and came up coughing and gagging as I grabbed him out, reminding him  that NO, he didn't know how to swim...all the while listening to him scream "Yes I do know how to swim!!  Put me DOWN, Mama!"   I think it's the testosterone.  Molly never did this.

Speaking of Molly, who actually does know how to swim like a fish, and did so just a few weeks ago in Turks and Caicos...she proceeded to 'forget' how to swim and claw my skin off my body the entire time.

When I'd reached the point of exhaustion, trying to chase Ben and keep him from drowning, with Molly on my back clawing at my neck....Jack came up with the most INGENOUS solution.  He suggested I check with the front desk and see if they have life jackets. 

Well, DUH!

Thank goodness for 8 year olds with the good sense their mother is lacking.

The second hour of our visit was MUCH more pleasant.   But our spiffy underwater camera had a case of dead batteries, so all we have are our memories, and these...

Well of  course I'm wearing glasses!  Who can remember contact lenses when you're having this much fun!?

We went in the afternoon when they had "open swim" and the sun was streaming through the windows like spotlights.  When we got too chilly, we'd sit in one of the bright puddles of sunshine and get warmed up.

The kiddie slide was a hit!

The closed captioning for this moment reads

"Don't touch me, Mama!  Don't you touch me!!  No!  Don't touch!  I can do this BY MYSELF!!"

(glurg.  gag.  cough.  sputter. snot.  hiccup.)

And to top off the afternoon, the kids decided to ramp it up a notch.   They must have noticed that the "drown the toddler" routine didn't shake me up anymore, so they brought their game to a whole new level.

The one drawback to Pelican Harbor is that the only way in to the pool is through the locker rooms.  And boys over age 5 are not allowed in the women's locker room.  And there aren't any "family" changing areas.  So this meant that Jack, who has never so much been in a men's restroom alone in his life, had to go into the men's locker room ALONE, strip naked and change and later, when we were finished, had to go into the men's locker room by himself to shower and change. 

As a mother in 2011, it is my solemn duty to be terrified at a prospect like this!  I imagined all sorts of scary people in there doing goodness knows what!  I told Jack to rush through on the way in and met him on the other side of the door while counting the ticks of the clock.  And when it was time to leave, I sent him in there under instructions not to speak to ANYONE and if anyone tried to talk to him or touch him or seemed creepy at ALL, to come right back out or start screaming bloody murder.

But I never, not in a million years, thought to say "Be careful, the floor is slippery!"

Well, DUH! (dope slapping self!)

The story that ensued is this.  As he was putting his shoes on after his shower, he leaned backward to brace himself on the counter.  But he misjudged the distance - the counter was three feet behind him.  And so he fell, HARD.  Smashed the back of his head on the floor so hard that he bounced.  And when he bounced, now under the sinks, he managed to smash his face into the pipes.  And his nose started gushing blood.

When the lifeguard comes up to you and says "Are you Jack's mom?" you just know it isn't good.

He was in the infirmary leaning over a trash can crying his eyes out while a really gorgeous 17 year old blonde lifeguard tended to his nose.  Poor baby! 

I then had the task of getting Molly and Ben, who were struggling to get out of my grasp and back into the pool, dressed and ready to depart.  And I knew that Ben was planning on leaving over his cold, dead body. 

What happened then was the stuff that parenting books DON'T tell you.  Twenty minutes of screaming, biting, kicking, writhing and hyperventilating.  I imagine it was like trying to wrestle a wet tasmanian devil out of his swim trunks and into a sweatsuit.  While in a room lined floor to celing in tile.  Oh, the acoustics!

We did eventually manage to get back to the car, and on the way to the pediatrician's office, grabbed some drive through Steak and Shake (after they towed the car that broke down IN THE DRIVE THRU!).  When we arrived at the doctor's office, Ben had managed to pee all over himself and his car seat, down to the SOCKS he was wearing.

It's only by the grace of God that I had, that morning, chosen to pack pajamas for him "just in case he got tired". 

So.  Day one of vacation.  Everyone lived.  Fun was had.  Aventure, even!  And you BETCHA, when it was all over, there were adult beverages served.