What the
Picture doesn’t show…
One of the many things I dislike about Facebook other
than peoples brag factor, is the ability to make things look all rosy and
good. Our family took a small getaway
vacation this weekend and I posted some pics.
Several of my friends have commented to me that it looked like we had
such a fun great weekend. Don’t get me
wrong, we did have fun, but the pictures don’t capture the essence and comedy
of moments in between. Several times
throughout, I stopped, looked at Tanya and said, “What am I doing… what are we
putting ourselves through here”.
Somehow our memories have a way of going from “I want to poke my eyes
out” to “yeah, that was a fun weekend” awfully quick though thankfully.
After taking a day off work, and planning a winter
weekend trip to Ottawa & Montreal, I was excited to get a jump on the day
and head for some winter outings by 9am.
As our vehicle pulled out of the driveway shortly before 11:30, we were excited
to finally be on our way. A few
accidents along the way caused us to extend our late departure and allowed us
to see the more scenic views and back roads, Napanee, and beyond to
Newburgh. 20 minutes into the trip, the
questions commenced from a few different sources…. “are we there yet” and , “how
much longer” No matter how often we
answered, it didn’t prohibit the same question from being asked every 20
minutes. After finally arriving in the
capital city, the weak bladdered one announced she had to go to the bathroom….
And it couldn’t wait. After circling
the block south of the parliament buildings, a McDonalds with no parking was
located and a pit stop occurred. Doris,
our GPS lady was in a tizzy with all the wrong turns I was taking her on but
somehow she managed to direct us and find our way back to our refreshed ladies .
As we made our way to Hull, or whatever they call it
these days, we went to the Jacques Cartier Park and were able to enjoy the
commencement of Winterlude activities without long lines. The minus 21 temperatures which with the
wind felt like -31, didn’t slow us down… much.
After several trips down the slide, the beginning stages of hypothermia
began to set in. On one occasion, there
was the elateful sight of my eleven year old bounding down the slide, with my
disconnected GoPro bounding on a head of him.
Just Awesome. After a quick trip
to the warm tent, some Beaver tails and sugar on snow were in order… both of
which found their way into #2’s hair.
The hypothermia had left most of our bodies with the exception of #1 who
was pleading for me to carry him around
as his toes were about to fall off.
We arrived at our hospitable host’s home, which was a
highlight for the weekend. We left our
kids with theirs and made our way out for dinner. We had a great time, as did our kids. The weak bladdered one especially had a fun
time… too fun in fact to stop what she was doing and use the facilities,
instead rather, electing to urinate in her pants. We’re still not sure how much she drank
while we were out, but it was enough to wet her pants in the evening and to wet
her pull ups, pj’s, sleeping bag and bed that night too. She’s going to do great things … one
day. One day.
After a hearty breakfast, we were off to our busy days
events. Arriving on the Canal, we
managed to make our way down without much trouble. With the -25 temps, the picture shows Tanya,
Isaac & Faith on the Canal with the Parliament buildings in behind. What the picture doesn’t show…Is #2 refusing
to pose for the picture because the tongue on her skate was bothering her and
she was cold. The overtired and teary
Diva could not be consoled, especially with the constant barrage and pestering
by #1. Not even the promise of yet
another beaver tail could rescue the situation, although it did manage to find
its way into her hair yet again.
After rondez vousing back at the Chateau Laurier and
retrieving our partially clean van, we began our quest to a hill to ski. Not long into our trip, I discovered that
we’d left some clothes at our host’s home, which caused us to go out of our way
to go back and pick it up. I’d like to
blame one of my 3 offspring, but this clearly was all on me.
After finally arriving at Edelweiss Ski Resort in Quebec,
a picture of our family shows us ready to tackle the hills. What the picture doesn’t show, is the
constant fighting between siblings, the weak bladdered one falling on the hill
and urinating her pants… AGAIN, going back up to the top of the hill,
prematurely jumping off the lift only to shut the whole thing down as the
chairs narrowly missed her head. After
the tears and cries began to disapate, the weak bladdered one announced that
she in fact needs to go to the facilities yet again. Apparently the urinated fall, did not quite
empty the bladder before and but now we were in emergency bathroom mode. At this point I was quite content for her
just to let go and finish the job in her pants, but she was determined to
rescue her last amount of dignity and finish the job at the chalet water closet, all
the while crying down the hill. On one
of my own desents, a partial fall I felt went undetected until I went to pay
four our dinner, only to realized my credit card was now split in two.
As we finished the day, a quick family photo shows us
smiling and ready to head to our next adventure in Montreal. What the picture doesn’t show, as we packed
our frost bitten bodies into the van, was that Doris, the GPS lady decided to
route us back 45 minutes to where we came from rather than take us on the
shortened route. After locating a
timmies for #3 to do her thing, we were off In search of some gas and food. After finally finding a gas station, and
delicately entering the severed credit card we were informed that all the pumps
had just ran out of gas and we’d have to go elsewhere. As we left, now a few hours behind schedule
and left the capital city in our wake, the pestering and sibling rivalry began
yet again, and the weak bladdered one started up with the “are we almost there
yet” questioning only 5 minutes outside of Ottawa.
As we arrived at our favourite hotel and checked in, the
gracious francaphone hotel clerk gently swiped split credit card and sent us on
our way. Our valet parking attendant
helped unload our now dirty and tattered van.
As he brought our belongings up to our room, I reached for my wallet…
which was not where it should be. After
arranging for security to escort me back down to the parking facility to retrieve my wallet,
I received the call from my family that it was safely nesselted back in our
room… exactly where I had left it.
Our Hotel picture looks modern and relaxed…. What the
picture doesn’t show, is that, although our bed was extremely good, the sleep we
got was not. Although #3 managed to keep
dry and give us a urine free night, she managed to kick and move a and keep her
mother awake all night.
There is a picture of us all relaxed and waiting for our
hotel meal for breakfast. What the
picture doesn’t show is the servers arriving with our Belgian waffles and ommletes
for the kids and Tanya and looking at me perplexed… “umm… ya, so what did you
order?”. As my meal arrived, the kids
were long finished theirs, #1 and #2 announced they needed to go and couldn’t
wait. #3 ironically was good and didn’t
need to go.
After checking out, we began to make our way to the
Canadiens matinee. A few steps into our
km walk, #3 began sobbing that her pants were hurting her and were too
tight. Apparently wet pants must make
things a little more comfortable because the dry ones were causing quite a
stir. In between tears, we managed to
undo the buttons, unzip the pants and
make the journey somewhat more bearable.
The tears did not stop the entire time, but she managed to make here way
there, fortunately without her pants falling down.
We arrived at the game, Tanya had her contra ban water
confiscated while I had managed to sneak in several electronic goods and recording
equipment. A picture of our family shows
the kids getting their faces painted and enjoying the family day
festivities. During the first intermission,
#2 and #3 began to lobby and interigate hard to take them for snacks and more
tattoos. I confirmed we’d make the trip
at the halfway point of the 2nd period when lines weren’t so long
but the thorough barrage of tears and questioning did not let up. Finally at the 16:00 minute mark, I caved and
left with both daughters in tow to get
some Popcorn for Isaac and some hotdog and fries for the “starving” #2,
which also managed to find it’s way into her hair. After returning to our seats, not before
tripping and falling on the stairs and gifting a portion of our popcorn to the
drunk lads in 314 row CC, #3 started in on wanting to look for more face
painting tattoo artists. I wanted to sit
down but my quest to give my kids a fun time and a good weekend won out over
that part of me that just wanted to enjoy the game. After leaving and walking around the entire
upper bowl, we found that facepaint place, only to disover the tattoo ladies
were gone. So back to our seats we went
and enjoyed the last few minutes of the 2nd period. As the period came to a close, I noticed #1
beginning to fade fast and put his head on his mothers lap. My concern for the health of #1 was quickly
interrupted with the request of #3 to once again go and try and find the talented
tattoo face painting ladies. Of course
when we arrived, the line was now quite long but wait we did and missed a good
chuck of the first half of the third period.
Now the only good thing about missing that, was not getting to witness
firsthand the coyote diamondbacks from Arizona, Glendale, Pheonix or whatever
they call themselves these days, scoring two goals to go ahead in the game. As the game came to a close, no comeback was
to be had and our beloved habs lost yet again with us in the stands.
As we journeyed back to our car, #1 was at this point in
quite a bit of pain. #3 was not
complaining at all, which one can only assume that she had wet her pants to
make the trip a bit more comfortable.
After retrieving our now destroyed and messy van from the
valet, I drove exactly 2 feet until I realized I needed to get the boy some
tylonel. As I opened up the back of
the van, I was sarcastically happy to discover the suitcase needed was now
wedged and packed firmly under all the other suitcases, under all the ski
equipment, and of course under all the skates.
After some hastily rearranging, I was able to get the said medication up
to the front and administered to the ailing #1 child. As we started off on our journey home, the
moaning and cries began to intensify.
Our prudent advanced preparation caused us to empty a bag and give to the
now inconsolable child in case he was to get sick. He assured us several times that it was only
his head that hurt and that his stomach was fine. Somewhere between Boul de Sources and Boul
St. Charles, the partially digested remains of the Belgian Waffles and “Mais Soufflé”
popcorn made their way all over the van…. All over the van… and nowhere near
the bag. As I stopped at the next Tim Horton’s
and surveyed the damage of the Boul de Sources Barf, I felt it best not to take
a picture. No one needs to see that
disgusting mess. As my freshly puked on
son awated in between the doors of Horton’s, the horrified glances of nosy
onlookers watching and sneering to see a middle aged man paper towel and mop up
the remains of the Belgian popcorn waffles party mix. As #1 waited without his coat, which by now
was resting in a near by snow bank awaiting one of us to clean it, we ventured
into the back of the clearly trashed van to go under the skates, under the skis
and all the other luggage to retrieve a fresh set of clothes for #1. As we pulled away and set out with new bags
in hand, the trip got a little better as we inched our way closer to the
border. I yelled to confirm if we needed
to make a stop at the on route and was assured all was good and we kept on
going. 5 minutes past the exit, another
portion of the Belgian party mix came up but this time into the Tim Horton’s barf
bag. 5 minutes after that, #3 announced
that dropped her water bottle. I knew by
the sound of her voice, there was more to the story and then asked if her lid
was on. With a hesitant giggle and
laugh, I learned in fact it was not and was now mixing on the ground in the
carpet with skis, the other garbage and of course the remains of the party mix.
As we made our way to the next On Route, I questioned again if we should
stop. Again I was assured, we should
keep going, all was good. 3 minutes past
the exit this time, the third deposit of party mix came up. 5 minutes past that, #3 informed us that she
needed to go… bad, and it couldn’t wait.
Of course. Why not.
Finally we arrived home, unloaded our vehicle, and
although I’d considered allowing to Ginger the dog to help lick up the mess, I
elected to try and keep her away from boul de sources barf and go at it and
clean myself.
As time will go on, I’m sure from looking at the
pictures, we will remember the good times.
Our memories have a way of forgetting the fighting, the crying, the peeing,
the cold, and we will remember the good family fun. Maybe we will go back to winterlude again but
for now and this coming weekend, I will elect for a warm home, a remote, a
nearby washroom, and a good auto detailerJ
