The Loveliness of Virginia

I just returned from a two-day whirlwind trip to Charlottesville, Virginia, which I believe I can now safely say is my favorite place in the entire world. (Heads up: intense gushing will now ensue. Read if you dare.) My ancestors must have lived in Virginia at some point - its green rolling hills and peaceful beauty touches my soul, and I feel in my bones that I'm truly home every time I visit.

Of course, being a huge history geek I also adore it because of its historical importance. It's intensely moving for me to walk the paths and visit the homes of the founders of our country - Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, George Washington (just to name a few) - and get even a small sense of what inspired them to create this great nation with such care and reverence.

And finally, the people of Virginia are simply wonderful. The originators of Southern hospitality at its finest, they are charming, gracious and proud of their beloved state's place in history. And the accents - oh, those slow, smooth-as-honey accents just knock my socks off. Even people who haven't lived there long enough to acquire the accent seem to instantly embrace the hospitality. My friend Marijean is a prime example.

Not that she wasn't hospitable before transplanting from the 'Lou to C'ville - she definitely was, but it's even deeper and more personal now. Marjiean not only took time out from her family (sick daughter included) to drive me all over town - including two driving tours through the stunning Jefferson-designed University of Virginia campus - but she also managed to squeeze into our schedule a tour of Montpelier, James Madison's recently restored home (you can check out my photos here). This was in response to my request to just "drive me by something historic while I'm in Charlottesville!" - yep, this would be Southern hospitality at its finest!

Thank you, Mj, for your kindness and time - this trip is now on my all-time favorite "business" trip list (we actually did spend most of our time doing some fascinating work with a great C'ville client - readers, make sure to fly straight into Charlottesville the next time you go - and Montpelier, please call us. We are dying to work with you!). I can't wait to visit again - mostly to catch Mj doing more sneaking into the basements of historic homes. Heh heh.

Semper Fi

The King and I (ah, I have visions of Deborah Kerr in that gorgeously huge gold dress waltzing around with Yul Brenner...sorry, I digress) had the honor last weekend of celebrating the 233rd birthday of the U.S. Marine Corps with the detachment from Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri. Dear hubby hires many of the Marines from that garrison for seasonal work, which allows them not only to get off the base for a little while, but to earn the funds needed to throw their annual birthday bash. (Don't get me started on a rant about how underpaid our armed forces are - heaven forbid we appropriately value the fact that they lay their lives on the line for us to take our freedom for granted. Instead we apparently like to demonize them for doing their jobs and insult their intelligence. See? Mini-rant. Couldn't help myself - sorry.)

Anywhoo, they were kind enough this year to invite us to join in their celebration at Tan-Tar-A - and what an absolute honor it was for us. Our camera went on the fritz during the event, so I unfortunately don't have any photos of the beautiful and poignant birthday ceremony, the cutting of the cake with the sword of guest of honor Brigadier General John A. Toolan Jr., or the stunning dress uniforms worn with such discipline and dignity by the Marines.

I will say I left the event more humbled than ever at the courage, intelligence and strength of our military. Those men and women are tough and disciplined, but also among the most polite people I've been around in many, many years, especially at an event where liquor was freely flowing (those guys can hold their hooch, for sure). You could see in their eyes and their straight backs the pride they have in the Marines in general and in their service in particular. They understand the long and storied history of the U.S. Marines, and you could tell they were eager to add their individual heroism to that prestigious history.

I also left feeling secure, much safer than I felt during a week of "historic change" that's undefined and - once you get past the lofty platitudes and really think about it - vague enough to be unnerving. A majority of Americans may want change, but there's at least one thing we definitely don't need to change, and that's the pride of our military men and women in their service to our country. They should be proud of what they do, and we should be proud of them for doing it.

So thank you to all the Marines at Ft. Leonard Wood for allowing us to be part of such an important event, and thank you - thanks to all in and retired from the military - for taking precious time away from your family so that my family is safe and free. Semper fi, indeed.

Mexican Adventure - The Wrap-Up

It was heaven. Sheer heaven. The beach was beautiful, the pool was relaxing and the weather was almost perfect. And, we actually did manage to get a great deal of work done on what I think is going to be a pretty darn good book, if I do say so myself.

To my friend and co-author Nancy - you've led an amazing life; I hope I can do it justice in the book. I'll go off on another adventure with you anytime. Just remind me to bring my snowsuit to withstand the balmy 45-degree room temperature you prefer. :-P

I wish I could recommend the Marival Resort to everyone, but the front desk staff was so incredibly bad, I'd hate for any of you to have to deal with that on a vacation. I really thought Nancy was going to whip out her black belt at some point and drop-kick a particular clerk across the lobby - and he totally deserved it. The suite was great, the grounds were beautiful, the food was mostly good, and the activities staff rocked, but oy vey, the front desk staff. We heard similar moaning from another family staying in our building (the grandma was a travel agent, and she was appalled), so it wasn't just us. Go to Nuevo Vallarta, just try another resort - there's at least a dozen to choose from.

But in the grand scheme of things, the entire trip was fantastic. If I ever figure out how to finish my photoset on Flickr, I'll post the full set of photos for everyone to see. In the meantime, here are a couple more photos to enjoy, both taken in downtown Puerto Vallarta along the stunning sea wall. Kick back with a margarita and dream of your next vacation!

Mexican Adventure - Pt. 3

Ah, another day in paradise. Granted, I'm stuck in a continuous icky cough/stuffed nose/blocked ears cycle with this dang cold, and I got bitten by an unidentified bug on the bottom of my foot while in the pool, but hey, I was in a tropical pool surrounded by palm trees and blue skies when I got bit, and I was tended to by a muy caliente lifeguard - how much can I really complain?

We had a big narrative breakthrough with the book today and got quite a bit of work done. Stop laughing. I really am getting serious work done down here. In between the aqua aerobics, the walks on the beach, and the stuffing o' my face with all-inclusive resort food, of course. And the naps. Ah, the naps. It's all working beautifully to clear my mind and let the creative thinking fly off my fingertips.

Note to my employer: if you'll allow me to open a Standing Partnership office down here, I'll be the most creative employee ever.

Mexican Adventure - Pt. 2

I've been writing while sitting on the previously mentioned balcony because we have been unable to figure out how to get out of our room due to a seriously heavy-duty lock. Exhibit A:

We're hoping room service will hoist a basket up soon.

OK, full disclosure: so we're not still trapped in our room. It did, however, take us about ten minutes to figure out exactly how to unlock the lock - and no, smart aleck, it did not unlock the same way we locked it. And no, we had not imbibed anything other than water. Although we actually might have done better if we had.

Mexican Adventure - Pt. 1

My writing is being inspired by this view from our balcony, where I sat with my laptop and wrote much of the afternoon. Yes, it is as awesome as it looks, and no, I have absolutely no excuse for writing anything but the next Great American Novel with this to look at while I write.

Where Am I?

Right now, I'm in beautiful Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico, fighting a cold but enjoying the ocean breeze and the opportunity to begin writing my first book - the memoirs of my dear friend Nancy. She has a story we believe many people, especially parents, are going to want to read - so we've traveled to a tropical paradise to devote some serious time to writing.

I've been AWOL from the blog because I've been absolutely slammed with work and getting into a rhythm with the Princesses' fall activities. Hopefully this "working vacation" signals the end of the manic period and a time where I can really begin to get back into blogging - starting with our Mexican adventure.

Check back for updates and photos often over the next few days - we've already got lots of characteristically goofy things to share, including how we were unable to get out of our room due to a seriously heavy-duty door lock and a bad case of travel crazies. It's worth coming back to read about tomorrow - trust me.

Adventures In Traveling - The Real Story, Pt. 2

So Princess Grace is toying with the idea of ditching the Pull-Ups for the full-time potty thing. Notice I say toying with the idea...which means she loudly proclaims she needs to go potty every 25 seconds or so, then changes her mind after you've broken your neck to get her to the potty ASAP. Of course, after you put her clothes back on her and leave the bathroom she will immediately poop in the Pull-Up, thus sending you back to the bathroom. We're spending a lot of time in the bathroom these days.

You can imagine what this does to a road trip. We stopped for a lot of false alarm potty breaks. For those of you familiar with the drive from Little Rock to St. Louis, you'll appreciate the list of stops: Brinkley, Forrest City, West Memphis and the now dreaded, infamous Osceola. At each stop, the Princesses and I all squeezed into a McDonald's restroom stall (somehow the handicapped stalls were never available) and tried to get Princess G to do her business, which she firmly refused to do...after spending the 15 previous minutes screaming from the backseat, "Wanna go potty, Mama!"

By Osceola, Princess G had the routine down, but unfortunately, by then her Pull-Up actually was wet, so I had to get it changed. Of course, unlike a regular diaper, putting on a new Pull-Up involves taking off shoes and pants, putting the Pull-up on, then putting the pants and shoes back on.

Princess G had other ideas.

Namely, she didn't want to change her Pull-Up. Wait, I don't think you're really getting the full impact of her conviction on this issue. SHE DIDN'T WANT TO CHANGE THE $#$#ING PULL-UP. So when I, in my sweetest we-have-to-make-this-happen mommy voice, tell her that we really do have to change the diaper, the scene begins to resemble something from The Exorcist. Dear, sweet, golden-haired Princess G begins to scream. And kick. And hit. And screech. With the ferocity of a supremely ticked-off badger.

I'm trying to get the Pull-Up on her while keeping her and everything else I can off the floor (it's a McDonald's restroom floor - EEW!), and she - having suddenly sprouted octopus arms and whacked-out radiation accident strength - is not allowing me to get the dang thing past her knees, all while shrieking in this "Someone please call DFS on my mommy!" voice from hell. Princess E (who hates loud noises, especially her sister's shrieks) is huddled in a corner of the stall with her hands stuffed over her ears saying, "Mommy, make her stop!" All the while, I'm hearing people come into the restroom...and go out again very quickly.

After about five minutes of this, I give up and submit to my baser, just-get-it-done mommy instinct: I squat down, throw the clothes on the floor, pin the Mutant Badger Octopus Princess's head and arms under my arm, put her bottom half on my lap, wrestle the Pull-Up, pants and shoes on, stand up, throw her over my shoulder, pick up the diaper bag and guide Princess E out of the restroom.

I walk out to see a group of grandmas sitting at a table looking straight at me - a few are shooting me disapproving looks, one is whispering into her cellphone and sneaking glances at me (as if to memorize my clothes in order to give a good description to the police), and one is laughing hysterically. I wanted to cry, laugh with her, and punch that lady out all at the same time.

By practically sitting on her, I managed to wrestle Princess G into her carseat and drive off in the pouring rain while ignoring the fact that I really needed to tinkle myself. (I held it until Cape Girardeau.) After a mile or so, Princess G stopped screaming long enough to realize "Cinderella" was playing on the DVD. A couple of miles later, she was snoozing.

Don't worry, Princess E finally stopped rocking back and forth and muttering to herself around Blytheville. As for me, I turned my iPod to my audiobook I'd just downloaded - the latest Einstein bio - and vowed that from now on, I will listen to wise friends like Leslie and knock the princesses out with Benadryl the minute we begin our next car journey. And get earplugs. And body armor. And tow a Porta-Potty behind the car.

Adventures In Traveling - The Real Story, Pt. 1

So now that I've had a chance to recover from our little adventure last week (and start to deal with the mountain of laundry and dirty dishes that awaited me at the castle - apparently dear hubby only came home from work to change clothes and eat), I can now tell you the truth about driving 800 miles round trip with two small children.

It sucked.

The drive down wasn't too bad. The girls were excited, well-rested and more than ready to watch their new "Mary Poppins" DVD two or three times. The sun was out, the snack bag was full of goodies, and my iPod was full of "Dave Glover Show" podcasts for me to listen to - life was good.

Then we had to drive back.

The girls were exhausted from several days of hardcore playing, no napping and generally whacked schedules - a refreshing and fun change, to be sure, but one that requires recovery time. It was a gray and rainy day, and Their Royal Highnesses were sick of "Mary Poppins" and fought over whose DVD to watch next - Princess Elizabeth preferred "High School Musical" (for the 763rd time) while Princess Grace threw a hissie for "Cinderella" (the object of her current obsession). Although we left right after lunch (prime napping time), both bitterly fought sleep by whacking each other with whatever was handy - and in the backseat, this included: two puppets, coloring books and crayons, sippy cups, various stuffed animals, books, a bag full of DVDs they insisted on taking even though they had no intention of actually watching anything other than the aforementioned DVDs, and three card games. Oh, and Jimmy Hoffa.

The whacking with these items caused eardrum-shattering shrieks to emanate with some regularity from the backseat. You would think my iPod ear buds would filter some of this shrieking out. They didn't - guess that's why they're called ear buds instead of ear-drown-out-shrieking-from-small-princesses. (Apple, endear yourselves to parents everywhere - sell the latter.)

All this, along with Princess Grace's sometimes-obsessive, sometimes indifferent potty training efforts, sets the stage for an epic showdown of Biblical proportions - I've taken to calling it "The Great Osceola McDonalds Pull-Up Fight." True, you could just read the Osceola Police Department's report, but my version will involve fewer ordinance-violating details and more, shall we say, character-driven plot.

To be continued...

P.S. Before my mom freaks out, I'll confess that there was no actual police involvement in "The Great Osceola McDonalds Pull-Up Fight." I can't say for sure they weren't on their way when we left, but at least there was no official police report. Mom, take the paper bag off your face and stop hyperventilating.

A-List Celebrities, Beware

I'm going on a mini-vacation this weekend. This should strike fear in the hearts of major public figures everywhere.

Why? Because my vacations are death knells for celebs, that's why.

JFK, Jr. plunges into the Atlantic - I'm in Williamsburg, VA channeling Martha Washington.

Mo Gov. Mel Carnahan's plane goes down - I'm in Maui learning to shake what my mama gave me from a seriously hot hula instructor. (No disrespect to my too-cute Scotch-Irish hubby, but holy cow, Hawaiian men are gorgeous!)

Princess Diana crashes in Paris - I'm in Branson with my best friend Amy enjoying a girls' weekend.

Royals in particular should be concerned - Amy and I are doing another girls' weekend, this time at Tan-Tar-A. And yep, it's been ten years since we had a girls' weekend - when you kill off the world's most popular woman during your last one, you think twice before venturing out again.