When Is A Vacation Not A Vacation

If you know me, you know we haven’t been on a vacation since our 2012 Honeymoon.  We took the kids to Indianapolis this last summer, which barely qualifies but it was more than enough.  So, all of the following is based solely on my friends experiences, and you know…common sense.

Dear Dads,

Allow me to let you in on a little secret. Moms HATE big, elaborate family vacations. There I said it.  You’re not doing us any favors, especially if your kids are under 5. While we crying babyappreciate the sentiment, taking our kids on a road trip, plane trip, to the beach, and especially to a strange place to sleep is so much more work than it is worth to us. Simply providing entertainment and your presence does not automatically make our lives easier.  No one looks at the daddy to shut up the crying baby. Imagine if  your wife planned a trip to tour the corporate location of your company for a week. But in the week leading up to the trip you had to prepare a 5 day presentation for all the VP’s of the company.  That’s what a family vacation is like for a mom.  It’s everything awful about our everyday lives, extrapolated.

Going on a family vacation with little kids is a lot like every other day of our lives, except its ten times more work with 100 times more exhaustion.  We go to the beach.  It’s hot. There is sand EVERYWHERE!  We can only go for 45 mins at a time because of naps.  Dad passed outShe’s constantly worried about someone getting sun burned and/or drowning in the ocean.  “Did the baby shit his pants?  Did the girl just eat sand? Did I look like that skinny bitch when I was 22?” But she’s super happy for you that you got to throw the kids into the water and be a hero for ten minutes before you pounded 7 Miami Vices and passed out on a lawn chair.  yay……

And spare me the whole, “I want to create childhood memories for my kids” thing.  I am all about that, but you do realize kids remember next to nothing before the age of 5, right?  The only person who is going to remember it is your wife, and those memories will not be fond ones.  I know you feel like you’re providing some kind of memorable experience for your kids, but honestly  it doesn’t fucking matter. Do you think a 3 year old knows the different between the pool at a beach resort and the pool at the local Radisson?  Cause they don’t.

We love you for trying.  We love you for working so hard to provide such trips, and we know that is how you show us you love us. But the next time you’re thinking of getting the whole family a trip to Disney, an all-inclusive Caribbean Resort, or anywhere more than a few hours away (and any of your kids are under 5)  stop and heed my warning. Save your money, marriage, and sanity by booking a hotel on the other side of town that has a pool.  Take the kids swimming every day.  Let them eat junk food. Go to the local arcade/amusement park. Then take the kids home and let her have the hotel room to herself.  A sitter a few nights that week so you could spend some alone time together wouldn’t be a bad idea either.  But not every night….not every night.

Now, if she’s telling you that she actually enjoys listening to the kids cry for hours in the back of the car, you yelling at them, trying to anticipate every situation and need, pretending like she’s not miserable, and isn’t day dreaming about being at a Mexican swim-up bar with someone who strikingly resembles Jason Mamoa then she’s either lying to you or the Xanax has kicked in.

Jason Mamoa

 

 

Second Annual Powell Family Christmas Card

Well, we’re doing better this year. We actually had family pictures taken!  I know, I know.  It’s almost like we have our shit together. But don’t worry, we still don’t.  Another year has passed, my kids have grown, my husband has established himself in his job, and I’m still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up.  So from our ever growing, changing, moving, dysfunctional family to yours, Merry Christmas!!

Reed
Age: 8
Grade: 3 20181123_133357
In a matter of weeks my eldest child will be 9.  He looks like a 9 year-old, he smells like a 9 year-old, he has teeth 4 sizes too big for this face like a 9 year-old.  Despite being forced to take a shower every day, he still smells like the human equivalent of moldy drywall.   He wants nothing to do with girls, and will put more effort into not brushing his teeth than it would take to just brush his  teeth. He is still kicking ass in his art class.  And even though he’s not at the top of his class academically, he makes everyone in class laugh. And honestly, I couldn’t be more proud.
Greatest Accomplishment: Learning that you can, in fact, pee in the toilet without peeing all over the floor.

Claire
Age: 3
Grade: Preschool20180808_110844
Claire started preschool last January.  Thanks to a slight speech delay, she qualified for public preschool, which means it’s FREE!!!!  Her language has improved greatly and she now talks non-stop.  Non. Stop.  She has discovered that she gives zero fucks about what anyone thinks, and has continued to live her life as such.  Her hair looks like she should live at Grey Gardens, and she’s still doing her best to mess up the curve by rocking straight up size 6t clothes.  She got her room painted purple this year. And while she loves all things girly, she will still pile drive her brothers like she believes professional wrestling is real.
Greatest Accomplishment: Not shitting in her pants….as much.

Samuel
Age: 220180926_145941
This blogs namesake turned 2 this year. If I called him a whiny little bitch, I would be doing a disservice to whiny little bitches everywhere.  We have the terrible 2s coupled with severe separation anxiety, which makes for an expensive drinking habit for Mommy.  He is talking so much, busting out new words everything day like, “What the heck?” and “God Damnit!” He’s a regular chatty Cathy.  This year he also moved into a big boy bed, and really loves the whole not sleeping in a cage thing anymore. Most recently, he has started potty training and will tell us if he has to go potty to “make water.”
Greatest Accomplishment: Has mastered the art of Chinese water torture in the form of “Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama…”

 

Josh
Age: 4220180915_125004
Josh has been kicking ass and taking names at work.  He also discovered that he and his boss, also named Josh, are exactly the same person. So, that’s not weird or anything.  You know how most people get softer in their old age, not my man!  He still hates everyone as much if not more than ever before.  He still has the same protein shake every day for breakfast, he still puts a fried egg on his cheeseburger, and he still keeps a cleaner house than I do.  However, now he does all of that in dress pants that hug his ass and brown wing tips.
Greatest Accomplishment: Randomly joining Sam’s club while bored on his lunch hour one day.

Leah 
Age: Still none of your damn business. 20181020_183832
I have learned how to survive on little to no sleep each and every day.  I’m currently lobbying to be in a clinical trial for coffee that is distributed intravenously.  My current career path has me competing with 12 year-olds for babysitting jobs, in addition to some marketing consulting.  You know, because 3 kids of my own, one extra, a husband, and a house just isn’t enough. I’m learning to not care so much what people think. Turns out I can care less!  Who knew? Nothing get’s me more excited than when something is on sale, whether I need it or not. And I’m sickeningly aware of all the things that make me “basic;” for most of which, I feel no need to apologize.
Greatest Accomplishment: Recently bought the best pair of leggings at Aldi for $6.

 

Merry Christmas all you filthy animals!!

 

 

When The Vasectomy Fails…A True Story

According to a random Google search, a vasectomy has an average failure rate of 0.15%.  Granted, most “failures” occur in the first few months after the procedure as the pipes aren’t entirely cleared out, if you know what I mean. Many dudes, for reasons that are beyond my understanding, never go back for the recommended 2 and 6-month follow-ups.  Maybe it’s the jacking off into a cup that throws them off, but when you’ve alreadyHappy Sperm invested that much money and pain, what’s a few more wife approved masturbatory minutes?  Whatever the reason, most “failures” are due to the fact that there are still little soldiers hanging on for dear life, and those follow-ups are there to detect those stubborn little bastards.

Then there are the ever so diligent men who can’t wait to get intimate with a Tupperware container to ensure that their investment is secure.   These men fall on the grenade of self-gratification so that their dear wives will never have to undergo an unwanted pregnancy.  On behalf of women everywhere, thank you for your sacrifice.

In the case of my wonderfully loving husband, he is what you would call a rule follower.  He paid a good chunk of money to make sure that I couldn’t use the “baby body” excuse ever again.  He followed instructions carefully after his procedure by taking in samples at both 2 months and 6 months post snip-snip.  That is the technical term for it.  Both his samples came back negative.  So, in November of 2015, we celebrated our newfound sterilization in ways I will not describe as family members may be reading this post.  But I will say this, IT WAS AWESOME!!  No more birth control.  No more hormones.  No more worrying.  Until February of 2016 when my always punctual Aunt Flo didn’t make her monthly visit….that bitch.

Waiting, of course, until after our annual trip to Galena for a weekend of skiing and drinking, both of which are literally at the top of the list of things not to do when pregnant, I decided to take a pregnancy test.  My husband, pissed that I would waste money on a pregnancy test when it was “impossible,” waited in the living room while I ruled out the obvious.  Now, on the packaging for these pregnancy tests, it says to wait 1-3 minutes for results.  I didn’t have to wait 1-3 seconds.  Before I had my pants pulled up there were 2 lines staring back up at me like a giant middle finger.

Sure

I just started laughing, because what else are you going to do.  I didn’t know what to say to my husband.  The competitive German in me wanted to say, “Ha! you were wrong. I was right, suck it!”  But then I realized that no one really won in this situation so that was out.  I just wanted walking into the living room, laid the stick, which I had peed on mind you, on the arm of the couch, and sat down. It was like someone drained all of the blood out of his face.  He just sat in silence….for the next 48 hours.

ugly cryThe follow days and weeks were not great.  I’m not going to lie.  My oldest son told everyone, “My mom is having a baby and she cried about it.”  Yup.  Sure did!

As it always does, time heals all wounds. We have a wonderful almost 1 year old son, who brings so much joy to our lives.  And he’s a really strong swimmer (Ba-Dum-Tish). And as I tell my husband, if our marriage can survive this, it can survive anything.

For the record, he did not ever go back to his urologist for fear he would not be able to control his rage.  He did go see another guy who said his tubes grown back together (also not an uncommon reason for failure).  This time around, I got fixed.  So, if I get knocked up again, I’m straight up buying all the lottery tickets.