Stewart Summer Vacation Part 2
This weekend Stu, the kids, Rags, and I are visiting my sister Nikki, her husband Bryan, and their Airedale Terrier Skye in Quincy, Illinois. Vacation has been the best of times; vacation has been the worst of times. Let's start at the beginning (and mind you, we're only on day 2)...
Yesterday, Stu and I were excited to head out on the road. We were not particularly looking forward to approximately 7.5 hours in the car with three kids and a dog (especially since I decided to bring Rags at the last minute; we'd had a babysitter (Stu's mom) set up but I chickened out at the last minute and felt I needed to bring him with me so as to make sure his housetraining progress remained on track); however, we'd planned accordingly and had several DVD's from the library ready to queue up. We also had a new Laurie Berkner CD for the kids to jam to. We managed to load up the van so that Rags could ride in his kennel. We marched out to the van ready to go. I paused....looked at Stu and said, "Crap! I don't know how to get there. I don't have the directions Bryan gave us last year." The kids were already strapped in the car seats so I ran (literally) back into the house and down the stairs, frantically texting Nikki on the way. She and Bryan were both at work and were unable to assist much. I printed some directions from Mapquest.com and grabbed our old 2004 Road Atlas and we decided to wing it. Bryan had told us to take I35 in the past but we took a smaller highway. It was working but was slower since it went through some towns so we had to slow down several times....fast forward to hour 1: "Mommy, pwease stop dwiving, potty!" So we pulled off the freeway and into an old, closed gas station parking lot to use my latest purchase I was so proud of - a little, portable potty chair called the "Potette". Adam was the one who said he had to go but all three kids thought it was great fun to use the back of the van as a port-a-potty. I threw a bagful of urine into the garbage can outside the closed gas station and hoped someone was picking up that garbage now and then. On to hour two and we were pulling over for pottying again. Third hour - pottying again. Twenty minutes later, there was a fourth request to go to the bathroom and we were almost to the city we'd planned to stop to have lunch in. We assured Adam that he could wait since he'd peed three times in three hours but he insisted, "Pwease, PWEASE stop dwiving, pee pee in my unnies". Our patience was wearing thin and we were all hungry so we muscled on. Finally, after about three and a half hours of driving, we arrived in Waterloo, Iowa and pulled into a McDonald's for lunch. I quickly walked Rags and he went potty, so far he'd kept his kennel clean which I fully expected since he now makes it all day just fine while I'm at work. Stu and I hustled the kids in to use the restrooms and I found that Adam had let loose with a full bladder flood and he was soaked all the way through his training undies, plastic undie cover, and denim shorts. Adam and I hustled back out to the van to change his lower half. Then, back into McDonald's to eat. Using the bathroom is so amazingly entertaining that we visited it about three more times in the hour we spent at McDonald's. We also pulled over probably two more times on our way to Quincy. Stu and I felt better after getting some food in our bellies but the calories just rejuvenated the children. Despite the movie in the DVD player, Ryann and Adam began to whack, pinch, and just generally pester one another. Another fast forward and we'd been in the car for about 7 hours and I was getting worn out. I started speeding a little, hoping to shave off some of the port-a-potty time. I was going around 75 mph in a 65 mph zone. I came into Keokuk, Iowa and the speed limit slowed to 55 mph. I slowed appropriately and then looked into my rearview mirror to see an Iowa State Patrol car with it's lights flashing. I signaled and pulled over. My heart started to race since this was the first time I'd ever been pulled over in my life! Stu was even more frazzled than I was at this point and asked me what I thought I was doing. I calmly answered, "Getting pulled over". He looked behind us and muttered, "Great". Turns out the officer was very nice and it was a blessing in disguise. He told me he'd clocked me going 73 mph in a 65 which was "just a little fast" so he was planning to give me a warning. He asked me to accompany him to his car so he could run my license "just in case I was wanted for murder" and was making small talk asking where we were headed. When I told him, he informed us we were headed toward a flooded out part of the highway. Turns out our 2004 Road Atlas did not show the new highway we should have taken to get to Quincy. The officer gave me a new map and proper directions which meant we had to backtrack about 20 minutes. We got back to where we needed to be and I called my dad to tell him that I'd been pulled over and ask him could he believe it since he and I had traveled to Quincy together in the spring and had been going 75 mph the entire way. While we were talking....I missed my turnaround exit. I just couldn't catch a break. Thankfully, we figured our way back quickly. FINALLY, we arrived in Quincy. We entered the city and the smell hit us. No, Quincy does not have an odor. It was the unmistakable reek of puppy pee pee. Max started to gag and asked to have the windows rolled down. Steam started to billow from my ears because Rags had neither barked nor whined, and had simply let loose in his kennel. I called Nikki and asked her to have some paper towels on hand so I could clean the kennel immediately. By the time we rolled into her driveway, we'd been in the car for over 9 hours.
Understandably, the kids were a little worked up all night and not on their best behavior. We quickly learned the pack and play Nikki and Bryan had ready for us to use was easy for Adam to launch himself out of headfirst. Ryann got out of bed several times to let us know she couldn't sleep. Rags whined and barked in his kennel intermittently throughout the night and I had to get up twice to let him out (this NEVER happens at home). Adam tossed and turned and talked in his sleep all night. I think I MAYBE got 3 hours of sleep.
We got up early to start our 2-hour drive to St. Louis, Missouri in order to visit Grant's Farm. It was wearying to spend the time in the car again after yesterday's drive but it was definitely worth it. We got to ride a carousel, see a trained wild animal show, eat lunch in a beautiful courtyard with complimentary beer (Grant's Farm is owned by Anheuser-Busch), feed baby goats from bottles, see all kinds of animals from deer to parrots to lemurs to foxes to elephants, eat sno cones, and see the famous Budweiser Clydesdales (did you know Anheuser-Busch owns the largest purebred herd of Clydesdales in the world?). We left in order to rush home to let Rags out. I was so tired, overwrought, and stressed I admit I had to take a Xanax. Good thing I did or I might have completely freaked since we got home to find that Rags had peed and pooped in the kennel in Nikki and Bryan's kitchen and had chewed two inches of the plastic floor liner of the kennel to pieces. Basically, we threw up our hands, put Rags in a plastic kennel that Nikki and Bryan had that is slightly too small for him, went out for pizza, and to Walmart to try to find a bigger plastic kennel. I was hoping that more enclosed plastic kennel (versus the wire kennel) would be better for him since he wouldn't be able to see he's in a strange place and if he had an accident, it wouldn't get all over the floor. We could not find a kennel that was the appropriate size so, once again, threw up our hands and came home.
I had a quick heart-to-heart with Nikki, in the basement, while we did a little laundry and I have finally come to a decision that has lifted a weight from my shoulders. Despite not wanting to feel like a failure, despite feeling guilty about the fact that Rags has bonded to me, despite worrying I was sending the wrong message to my kids about taking responsibility for a living creature and then shirking my duty, I've come to the decision (and my sister agrees it's the right one) that I need to give Rags back to the rescue organization. I made a mistake in adopting a puppy when we already have an aging dog and three very young, rambunctious children who need all of our time. So, when we get home on Tuesday, I'll be making arrangements to drive Rags the hour-long trip back to Faribault to return him to the rescue organization from whence he came. I'm sure I'll feel terrible for a while but I honestly think this is the best decision for my family and ultimately for my own sanity.
I have high hopes that the rest of our visit will be great.
Yesterday, Stu and I were excited to head out on the road. We were not particularly looking forward to approximately 7.5 hours in the car with three kids and a dog (especially since I decided to bring Rags at the last minute; we'd had a babysitter (Stu's mom) set up but I chickened out at the last minute and felt I needed to bring him with me so as to make sure his housetraining progress remained on track); however, we'd planned accordingly and had several DVD's from the library ready to queue up. We also had a new Laurie Berkner CD for the kids to jam to. We managed to load up the van so that Rags could ride in his kennel. We marched out to the van ready to go. I paused....looked at Stu and said, "Crap! I don't know how to get there. I don't have the directions Bryan gave us last year." The kids were already strapped in the car seats so I ran (literally) back into the house and down the stairs, frantically texting Nikki on the way. She and Bryan were both at work and were unable to assist much. I printed some directions from Mapquest.com and grabbed our old 2004 Road Atlas and we decided to wing it. Bryan had told us to take I35 in the past but we took a smaller highway. It was working but was slower since it went through some towns so we had to slow down several times....fast forward to hour 1: "Mommy, pwease stop dwiving, potty!" So we pulled off the freeway and into an old, closed gas station parking lot to use my latest purchase I was so proud of - a little, portable potty chair called the "Potette". Adam was the one who said he had to go but all three kids thought it was great fun to use the back of the van as a port-a-potty. I threw a bagful of urine into the garbage can outside the closed gas station and hoped someone was picking up that garbage now and then. On to hour two and we were pulling over for pottying again. Third hour - pottying again. Twenty minutes later, there was a fourth request to go to the bathroom and we were almost to the city we'd planned to stop to have lunch in. We assured Adam that he could wait since he'd peed three times in three hours but he insisted, "Pwease, PWEASE stop dwiving, pee pee in my unnies". Our patience was wearing thin and we were all hungry so we muscled on. Finally, after about three and a half hours of driving, we arrived in Waterloo, Iowa and pulled into a McDonald's for lunch. I quickly walked Rags and he went potty, so far he'd kept his kennel clean which I fully expected since he now makes it all day just fine while I'm at work. Stu and I hustled the kids in to use the restrooms and I found that Adam had let loose with a full bladder flood and he was soaked all the way through his training undies, plastic undie cover, and denim shorts. Adam and I hustled back out to the van to change his lower half. Then, back into McDonald's to eat. Using the bathroom is so amazingly entertaining that we visited it about three more times in the hour we spent at McDonald's. We also pulled over probably two more times on our way to Quincy. Stu and I felt better after getting some food in our bellies but the calories just rejuvenated the children. Despite the movie in the DVD player, Ryann and Adam began to whack, pinch, and just generally pester one another. Another fast forward and we'd been in the car for about 7 hours and I was getting worn out. I started speeding a little, hoping to shave off some of the port-a-potty time. I was going around 75 mph in a 65 mph zone. I came into Keokuk, Iowa and the speed limit slowed to 55 mph. I slowed appropriately and then looked into my rearview mirror to see an Iowa State Patrol car with it's lights flashing. I signaled and pulled over. My heart started to race since this was the first time I'd ever been pulled over in my life! Stu was even more frazzled than I was at this point and asked me what I thought I was doing. I calmly answered, "Getting pulled over". He looked behind us and muttered, "Great". Turns out the officer was very nice and it was a blessing in disguise. He told me he'd clocked me going 73 mph in a 65 which was "just a little fast" so he was planning to give me a warning. He asked me to accompany him to his car so he could run my license "just in case I was wanted for murder" and was making small talk asking where we were headed. When I told him, he informed us we were headed toward a flooded out part of the highway. Turns out our 2004 Road Atlas did not show the new highway we should have taken to get to Quincy. The officer gave me a new map and proper directions which meant we had to backtrack about 20 minutes. We got back to where we needed to be and I called my dad to tell him that I'd been pulled over and ask him could he believe it since he and I had traveled to Quincy together in the spring and had been going 75 mph the entire way. While we were talking....I missed my turnaround exit. I just couldn't catch a break. Thankfully, we figured our way back quickly. FINALLY, we arrived in Quincy. We entered the city and the smell hit us. No, Quincy does not have an odor. It was the unmistakable reek of puppy pee pee. Max started to gag and asked to have the windows rolled down. Steam started to billow from my ears because Rags had neither barked nor whined, and had simply let loose in his kennel. I called Nikki and asked her to have some paper towels on hand so I could clean the kennel immediately. By the time we rolled into her driveway, we'd been in the car for over 9 hours.
Understandably, the kids were a little worked up all night and not on their best behavior. We quickly learned the pack and play Nikki and Bryan had ready for us to use was easy for Adam to launch himself out of headfirst. Ryann got out of bed several times to let us know she couldn't sleep. Rags whined and barked in his kennel intermittently throughout the night and I had to get up twice to let him out (this NEVER happens at home). Adam tossed and turned and talked in his sleep all night. I think I MAYBE got 3 hours of sleep.
We got up early to start our 2-hour drive to St. Louis, Missouri in order to visit Grant's Farm. It was wearying to spend the time in the car again after yesterday's drive but it was definitely worth it. We got to ride a carousel, see a trained wild animal show, eat lunch in a beautiful courtyard with complimentary beer (Grant's Farm is owned by Anheuser-Busch), feed baby goats from bottles, see all kinds of animals from deer to parrots to lemurs to foxes to elephants, eat sno cones, and see the famous Budweiser Clydesdales (did you know Anheuser-Busch owns the largest purebred herd of Clydesdales in the world?). We left in order to rush home to let Rags out. I was so tired, overwrought, and stressed I admit I had to take a Xanax. Good thing I did or I might have completely freaked since we got home to find that Rags had peed and pooped in the kennel in Nikki and Bryan's kitchen and had chewed two inches of the plastic floor liner of the kennel to pieces. Basically, we threw up our hands, put Rags in a plastic kennel that Nikki and Bryan had that is slightly too small for him, went out for pizza, and to Walmart to try to find a bigger plastic kennel. I was hoping that more enclosed plastic kennel (versus the wire kennel) would be better for him since he wouldn't be able to see he's in a strange place and if he had an accident, it wouldn't get all over the floor. We could not find a kennel that was the appropriate size so, once again, threw up our hands and came home.
I had a quick heart-to-heart with Nikki, in the basement, while we did a little laundry and I have finally come to a decision that has lifted a weight from my shoulders. Despite not wanting to feel like a failure, despite feeling guilty about the fact that Rags has bonded to me, despite worrying I was sending the wrong message to my kids about taking responsibility for a living creature and then shirking my duty, I've come to the decision (and my sister agrees it's the right one) that I need to give Rags back to the rescue organization. I made a mistake in adopting a puppy when we already have an aging dog and three very young, rambunctious children who need all of our time. So, when we get home on Tuesday, I'll be making arrangements to drive Rags the hour-long trip back to Faribault to return him to the rescue organization from whence he came. I'm sure I'll feel terrible for a while but I honestly think this is the best decision for my family and ultimately for my own sanity.
I have high hopes that the rest of our visit will be great.
Comments