It is a moment like right now that I appreciate the idea of a cigarette.
And an anvil.
The 3 kids and I made our way up to the North Shore of Lake Superior today and really, had a funtastic day. We are on a mission this summer to see all of the waterfalls in Minnesota. And by “all” of the waterfalls, we mean “some”. We got to see 2 in one visit along with lots of fun wading and catching of hermit crabs, but it involved a lot of hiking and with a ton of uphills and downhills and steps like you wouldn’t believe. In fact, if I were doing that 10 billion steps a day program (which I’m not because I admit that I don’t buy into it at all – I mean, how about we just get some exercise, take the stairs instead of the elevator, especially when it is only one floor and the stairs are RIGHT THERE and stop circling the parking lot 6 times to find the closest spot when you could have been in the store and at the cash register in that time if you had just parked where ever and if you are a 34,567 steps/day program person, I apologize, but not deeply, because clearly you can see the direction of this post by now), I would have easily gotten in my steps for the day. The kids were absolute troopers.
All good things…
You would think that a hotel called “Cliff Dwellers” might mean great things. But boasts of great things that do not exist can whither the cheeriest of people let alone, well, me after a long day of driving and hiking and entertaining, even if it was funtastic. It’s 6:00 and we are 45 minutes past our regular dinnertime, which is all well and good because we had good snacks. I’m beat, but I’m good with running back out again to pick up a decent dinner while the kids sit in front of the video babysitter. I’m even playing it cool with the fact that the promised WiFi is not working in our room because I figure I can just run to the lobby and take care of the work that I put off all yesterday in the so-called “worth it” mode of writing other gibberish to satisfy the super-inflated idea that I’ve got this muse to follow.
It’s all cool. Food. Food will help.
Air conditioning would help, too, except apparently that is one of those boasted items that doesn’t exist. But, we have a FAN. And a fridge.
Come back from the store with a makeshift dinner which lasts just barely long enough to finish out the last of what the video babysitter has to offer, because by “extra channels” they mean CNN, which sadly, we explain to 9YO, does NOT stand for Cartoon Network. I find out that there is a computer in the lobby available for use and I suggest that maybe we could log in to Netflix and they could watch one episode of something before we call it a night. At this point, 4YO, who still naps and only slept 15 minutes in the car that day (it was the Egypt, secrets of some sort of tomb video that put him out, imagine that?) is now bouncing off the walls saying “letsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgo…” (Well, you get the picture.) while I am desperately trying to have 2 minutes of my own to finish my own dinner and recollect my cool, calm self.
Turns out that a hardwired connected computer is WORSE than a wireless one in the lobby and before 11YO and 9YO threaten to hang 4YO by his toes if he touches them one more time, we give up and I do at least remember that I have some Pixar shorts on my laptop and since I can’t freakin’ get the Internet on it anyway (and no, just because I have 13 courses to finish setting up by Tuesday even though I chose to go on vacation is not stressing me out at all), we might as well watch one before 4YO falls apart at the seams from disappointment.
Being the amazing mother that I am, I volunteer to share my bed with 4YO who no one else in her right mind would ever want to do because when he is alone in his bed he is everywhere and when you share a bed he insists on draping multiple parts of his body over you so that you cannot move. Turns out that 9YO cannot handle being in bed with 11YO and chooses to sleep on the floor. 11YO chooses tonight to have a return to sleep problems that make you want to curse in multiple languages and at the very least I am begging for Samuel L. Jackson to come and read “Go the F*ck to Sleep” to everyone, including myself.
In a single room hotel, lighting is an issue because 4YO panics in the middle of the night if it is too dark, and 11YO with homicidal-inducing sleep problems cannot sleep unless it is completely dark. He’s already complaining because the lamp next to his bed is brighter than he is used to when reading at night because, if I haven’t mentioned this yet, I think there are 200 watt light bulbs in every single lamp in this room because I’m thinking someone sued the Cliff Dwellers once when they tripped on a sock that he couldn’t see because the light bulb was only a 60 watt one.
We go dark. 4YO is asleep so we’ll take our chances. However, lamp next to 11YO comes back on for a flash because he wants to get water and can’t see, which wouldn’t be too much of a problem except 9YO is asleep on the floor and he also sleeps like 4YO so who knows where he might be in the room. He probably wouldn’t even notice if you stepped on his head because he falls out of bed and keeps right on sleeping but if 11YO trips over his head and stubs anything, an already overdramatic-heavy-sighing-can’t-sleep child will cause guests 5 doors down to call 911 after hearing his bloody murder screams.
11YO is finally out and I am not and am still looking for my buddy Samuel L because now I have insomnia. I traipse all over 9YO to go to the bathroom and take out 5 of 6 light bulbs in there and that seems to be as close as we’re going to get to non-stadium lighting and decide to write because what else can I do on my useless wireless computer and find that every outlet in this room is being used by SOMETHING. I unplug a lamp because, well, who needs them when one lamp can light up all of Lake Superior, anyway? I look over to 9YO and find that he is awake after all (although I don’t *think* it is because I stomped all over him…).
I’m thinking, dear lord, half the night is gone and people are still awake only to find that it is only 11:00pm even though it feel like 2:00am. But, I guess I’m at least happy that 9YO isn’t still awake at 2:00am, because that would be really bad. 11YO sits straight up in his bed and starts talking nonsense and at this point I am at least laughing because I forgot how much he always talks in his sleep even though I am also reaching for the anvil… aaaand, it turns out that just telling him to lie back down works just as well as smacking him over the head with a heavy object.
We really do have a beautiful view. (And I’d show you it if I had any kind of decent Internet connection to upload a photo….)