So I was expecting to come home after my weekend away to all kinds of chaos to blog about. After all, the Friday I was trying to get everything organized for my departure, the kids had pulled out all the stops. Jacqui had glitter-pen-spattered her bedspread that morning and Kyle threw up on me twice. In the afternoon, Kyle threw a box of cheerios down the stairwell and Jacqui stuck about a bazillion small squares of super-adhesive medical tape all over the cat that I had to cut out with scissors. I all but ran out the door the minute Ken got home. And all weekend I lived in fear of what would be greeting me when I returned home. But guess what? They did just fine! No high drama anything. No screeching or chaos of any kind was waiting for me behind our front door. Just sound asleep kiddos and Ken’s quiet, “Hey - glad you’re home.”

While relieved on one front, I now had a blogging dilemma… what to write about? So, since many of you have missed out on some of Jacqui’s early years of chaos, I thought perhaps we might time-travel a bit. Are you ready? Here we go…

July 2006. Our first major road trip with Jacqui after initiating potty training. Oh, and if that weren’t setting the stage for enough chaos, Kyle is just three months old. Our destination: Jacqui’s ENT specialist at a major children’s hospital. A five hour drive away had our passengers displayed anything remotely resembling sane or rational behavior. An adventure ensued. How could it not? A nine hour adventure. Nine hours. Nine. Long. Hours.

At the time, Jacqui hadn’t made any advancements in the #2 potty-training arena, but was quite proficient in the #1 department. She decided to turn the entire trip into an exhaustive tour of the interstate highway rest stop system. If there was so much as a port-a-potty along the side of the road, we stopped. And, thanks to Jacqui, we were laughed out of every rest-stop along the interstate corridor. You see, for some reason, all public restrooms seem to be designed to maximize the volume of even the smallest whisper… and to echo. Perhaps if you’ve not traveled with small children, you’ve failed to notice this particular phenomenon. I swear I’m not making it up. It must be standard construction or something. This provides no end of amusement to verbally inclined three-year-olds, and no end of embarrassment to their travel-weary parents. Jacqui LOVED the sound of her own voice echoing off the dank concrete walls…

“Ekkkohhh!”

“Jacqui, shhh!!”

“My! Name! Izz! Jacqui!!!!”

“Shush!”

“Lisssen!! My! Ekkkooooohhhhhhh!! Mom-mie!“

“Let’s keep it down, okay?”

“Blahhhh!!”

“Seriously. Shush.”

“Blehhhh!!”

“Honestly. Tone it down.”

“Blahhh-dee-die-dohhhh!!”

“Jacqui… Pleeeeeease…”

“Ekkkoohhhhh!!”

*sigh*

Unfortunately, the just the sound of her voice ceased to be entertaining in and of itself. She turned conversational…

“Wow!! You wearing blue unnerwear, Mommy?”

“Shhh!!” (snickering was heard outside the door)

“I jess fink dey are priddy!”

“Jacqui, shush!” (The snickering on the other side of the door advanced to giggles)

“Wow!! Good job going potty Mommy!”

“Jacqui! Give it a rest!” (The giggles morphed into muffled snorting sounds)

“You want a sticker?”

(An entire chorus of unrestrained guffaws followed us out the door as we left)

The next stop wasn’t much better…

“Ekkkoohhhhh!!”

“Jacqui, please… let’s not start this again…”

“Okay!”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll jess tell you somefin ’stead!!”

“Oh, PLEASE no…”

“No eat boogers Mommy, dey taste yucky!”

“EEEWwww! Shhhh!! Don’t even say that.”

“Ok!! I sing it den! Booooogers taste yuuuky!!… Booogers taste yuuuky!!…”

And it got worse at the next stop…

“Look Mamma! Magic Toelets!!”

“Shhhh! What on Earth are you talking about?”

“Loooook!! Dey muss be reely, reely magic! Dey already have potty in dem!”

“Those are NOT magic toilets! Just stop talking. Please!”

“Who do dat den? Who put da potties in dair?”

“Moral degenerates, Sweetie. Now sush!”

Ken heard the laughter clear out in the parking lot. He took a look at my beet-red face and chuckled, “What was that all about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

And did it stop there? No. Of course not. At the next rest stop Little Miss Inquisitive decided to apply her newly acquired knowledge about the causes of un-flushed toilets…

“Wow, Mommy - Look! More gen rats do dat too?”

*sigh*

“Why you rubbin’ da sides of your head dat way wif your eyes closed, Mommy? Are you sleepy?”

We returned to the car and Ken raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. A smirk playing at one corner of his mouth. “No. Don’t even ask.”

The fun continued. I threw a pack of colored mini-marshmallows into the back seat when she started howling that she was hungry not five minutes later. That diverted her for another ten. Then it was rest stop time. Again. She had yanked her sandals off her feet. I crammed them back on and hauled her out of the car seat for the umpteenth time. We started trudging to the restroom and I hadn’t even noticed the multi-colored splotches all over her face. Jacqui began waving and blowing kisses at everyone in a 100 yard radius. And this time she didn’t even wait until we were inside to start making startling statements. An elderly lady with an amused expression leaned down as we attempted to pass her on the path, “What have you gotten all over your face sweetie?”