Smile Politely

So many beaches, so little time

Wow, these weeks are flying by, aren’t they? Unfortunately, the summer months tend to keep accelerating at an outrageous and rather unfair pace. Why can’t time move like this in February? I’ve always been grateful the winter month only has 28 days. If only we could tack those three extra days onto the beginning of August … dare to dream, people.

While trying to wrap things up at school, I’m also getting ready for a road trip to Hilton Head. Sounds great, right? Beaches, frozen drinks, romantic dinners? Now let me add a few things to your vision: a 2004 minivan, a four-year-old, a six-year-old, and … wait for it … a mother AND a mother-in-law. Had enough? How about if I throw a turtle shell on top of the van, and tell you our villa is run by Disney? Freakin’ Paradise, right? Honestly, though, I’m excited about the trip, including our stay-over in Knoxville where we plan to scatter our beloved Mojo’s ashes. 

A brief tribute to The Moj: We rescued the shy twelve-week-old hound/shepherd mix when we lived in Tennessee way back in the twentieth century. His favorite thing to do was run 100 miles-per-hour along the Tennessee River. I’m quite certain it’s totally illegal to dump an animal’s ashes in the river, but the people I met in Tennessee aren’t at risk of losing too much if they drink bad water. Hell, most of the people I met drank moonshine for breakfast. I think they’ll be fine.

In order to relieve some of the crazy brought to me by this week, I went and got that chest piece I’ve been talking about … sort of a Mother’s Day gift to myself. I’m really happy with it, too. Now Coulter and I have matching Cardinals logos. We’re pretty cute. Okay, not really. But since he gave Matt Diana a shout out, I’ll give mine to Justin McCarty. Both gentlemen at No Regrets do amazing work. Watch out for that Stines character, though…

Knowing the importance of keeping the sun off my new ink, and still being the massive sun whore that I am, I’ve been creatively keeping it covered with a kid’s washcloth tucked into the strap of my tank top. Yesterday I was told I look like I just finished burping a baby. The thought of such a task made me throw up in my mouth a little bit, until I realized I was using the piece of cloth for almost the exact opposite reason, which made me felt pretty badass. Punching the guy in the jaw after he said it made me feel pretty hard-core, too.

I should look pretty cool walking along South Carolina’s beach with a burp rag on my shoulder. But this week also brought some exciting news that will hopefully pan out to be an experience quite different from my first summer vacation. My husband learned he has been accepted to an international computer music conference held in Australia this August. Those mothers who are joining us on our road trip to Hilton Head are working out the details of babysitting so I can take the trek with him. After getting super stoked about the Aussie journey, I got the following texts from that same talented husband: It’s $2,000 per airplane ticket. It’s a thirty-hour trip with two stops. It’s rainy and windy in Australia in August. I’m beginning to wonder which of these two trips will prove to be more painful. 

I do have a third getaway planned: a week of professional development in Madison, Wisconsin, at the end of June. I’m going solo, taking the new, sporty, stick shift car with the satellite radio, and staying in a pretty decent place right by the lake. Even though it’s technically “work,” I have a feeling this might end up being my favorite trip all summer. Of course you won’t tell my family I said that.

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