The forgotten week.

In my haste to get Alex out of school and down to Sanibel to start our vacation,  I completely forgot this teensy weensy little detail.  We have one full week before we go on vacation.  I was so busy trying to get him through the last few weeks, and then days, of school that I completely forgot we had a gap week.

One full week of nothing to do.

Shit.

Now I'm sitting here with three kids looking at me like I'm the food that just got tossed into the lion's den.  And these particular lions, well they're pissed off and really hungry.  Since I've not trained my lion cubs that it's not OK to gnaw on mommy's leg for sport, I'm afraid for my own survival.

On top of it, it got frigging hot here and I'm dying a thousand deaths trying to get used to the heat.  Add the humidity and my normally straight as a board hair has gone pa-ching and I don't know what to do with it.  My sweat glands are working overtime and I think I've died and the devil is having some fun with me.  My insides are boiling and I may spontaneously combust.

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My poor kids haven't really known "hot" and lets just say they're pissed that their summer's not chalked full of cool waters and summer time jackets.  See, we used to live in North Dakota.  My Cherubs don't know hot.  I mean, look at that picture down there.  I took that in late June, 2008.  Look at what she's wearing...mittens.  People, she's wearing MITTENS.  IN JUNE.  Along with fleece pants, a jacket, a shirt and some weird almost but not really a skirt thing.  IN LATE JUNE.  I'm surprised there is not ice on that puddle.

To top it all off, they want to go to the pool but I can't take all three of them and be guaranteed I'd come back with all of them still breathing.  We've spent an ass load of money on swim lessons but they're still not swim worthy due to our complete and utter lack of gross motor skills.  I don't trust them alone in the water and with an 18 month old I can't watch all three.  It's unsafe and a recipe for disaster.

So I've lowered my standards and turned on the TV.  We're going to be watching plenty of How its Made, those horrible little douche bags Phinneas and Ferb and that rodent Max and his sister Ruby. Where the hell is their mother???

Anyway, all I have to do is get through till Saturday and then we're off.  To the airport. On a plane.  To land in another airport.  To board another plane.  To land in Florida.

What could possible go wrong with that???


Don't worry, I'll be telling you all about it when we land.  You know, if I'm not detained in airport security when Alex has decided to have an in depth discussion with the TSA official about the "why's" and "how to's" concerning bombs and bringing them in to the airport and through security....