If It Growls In Your Bowels, You Had Better Run

I had no intention of posting this story or even telling close friends about this wily adventure face-to-face.  It was too personal and frankly a little on the too much information side of things.  But then I read a great story, somewhat similar but far worse than my own situation here at one of my favorite blogs.  After reading their horrific story, I had commented and posted how I understood their plight and shared a bit of my story with them.  However, my comment never posted.  Not sure if it was a glitch or if they have some form of approval system where they check out comments before they post and mine was perhaps not the cut of cloth they were wanting.  I certainly was not trying to upstage them in any way, as you will read below, I think I was far from it so they can keep the trophy.  But it got me thinking, eff it...I'll just share with everyone.

A quick note or disclaimer here, I will be sharing a story about poop (if you haven't figured that out already from the title of the post or if you hadn't read the above link).  If you don't like to hear about poop or poop in any form then you should disembark here.  You have been warned.

I decided to surprise the family with a trip to Disneyland over the last weekend of Mrs Griswold Wanna-Be's maternity leave back in December.  I went to pain staking efforts to hide this whole trip from the Mrs.  The kids, no problem.

This was not just a day trip.  We would be spending the night in one of the Disneyland hotels and I needed to pack for everyone.  If you have two kids then you know this is no small feat.  We needed clothes and backup clothes for both boys, plenty of diapers (two different sizes and nighttime diapers for the big guy...not me, smartass...my son), toothbrush, toothpaste, sound machines, pea pod for the little guy to sleep in, blankies, bottles, formula and vitamins.  And that's just for the kids.  I had to pack a small bag for myself and my wife and be sure to bring her make-up as well.  However, I couldn't do all of this in one fell swoop.  So the night before, I readied everything I could while the Mrs went out with the girls.  The trunk was packed and trunk cover was pulled over in case she happened to look in.  Now we just needed to get everyone out in the morning.  The lie was that we were taking the big guy to school as a family and then afterwards the three of us (the little guy, the Mrs and I) would head out to breakfast to use a Groupon deal we had purchased months ago.  I had it all under control, but the morning was going to be tough.

Needless to say, everything did not go as planned in the morning.  The little guy was a little fussy and the Mrs was reaching the point of not wanting to do this family trip to drop off our son at preschool.  Normally, if this wasn't all some big ruse I would have understood, but I was not taking no for an answer.  Seeing as I wanted to drive by the freeway exit for the preschool and then let everyone know where we were really going, I also could not tell her why I was so adamant about all of us going to drop off and breakfast.

And this wasn't even the hardest part.  I still had the matter of getting some extra last minute things: makeup, sound machines, blankies, etc. out of the house and into the car without her knowing what I was doing.  Luckily, the Mrs had asked that I stuff the car with things for Goodwill so I knew I could shove everything in a garbage bag and walk out of the house.  However, this all had to be done as she was getting the boys into the car and inevitably this took me longer than I thought it would.  I finally wrapped up my scampering around the house and when I opened the door to come out the Mrs was standing there asking me what was taking so long.  I was a little out of breath but I pieced some dingbat story together of the bag being in the garage and having to toss a few extras into it that I had forgotten about - she bought it...sort of.  Thankfully, she knows that I am a little obsessed sometimes and take longer to do things because I get sidetracked easily, otherwise she may have called my bluff.

So we were off and...oh shit!  I forgot to pull out the check for the dog sitter that I had written and hid the night before.  We were only 20 yards from the house so I stopped, couldn't come up with a lie, mumbled some BS and ran inside to unhide the check.  When I got back in the car I could feel the sweat on my back now.  I was sure she was onto me, but all she said was "we're going to be real late to drop off."  Yes we are.  Yes we are, my dear.  MMMMWWWAHAHAHAHAHA!  (good place for an evil laugh?)

I felt like the real Clark Griswold.  Well, not the real, I know he's just a character.  But you get the idea.  The alpha family man taking his family to the second happiest place on Earth (sorry Disneyland but DisneyWorld has you beat by miles - Tomorrowland is no Epcot and California Adventure, aside from the alcohol, is questionable at best and Walt would've punched you in the eye for that build).  I was giddy with excitement, and if you know me then you know this is not something I normally feel.  I don't get excited about stuff like most people.  But I had pulled off some pretty incredible shit over the last 14 hours...I was feeling good and I had yet to blow the doors open to everyone else.

As we were coming up to the exit, I found myself looking a little more towards the Mrs just so I could see her reaction.  Here it comes.  The exit is only 100 feet away and I am not in the exit lane.  Zzzzzoooooooom!  There it goes!  Now ask me, ask me, ask me damnit!  Why is no one asking me anything?  Finally, the Mrs says "Which way are you taking to preschool?".  "We're not going to preschool" I said.  "Seriously, where are you going?" she asked again.  "Anaheim" I said casually.  "No, seriously, where are you going?  We're going to be really late."  Did she just miss what I said?  So I said it again, and much like when I proposed to her (instead of a resounding "yes", I got a lackluster "thank you") the response was emotionally drab at best.  "Really?"  she asked.  Uh yes, really.  After about 30 questions of did I pack everything we needed, did I arrange for a dog sitter, did I call the school - she finally came around and started to get happy.  Not excited like I had imagined in my head, but happy.  Which is better than not happy I guess.

So we were off to the second happiest place on Earth.

That first day was great.  The big guy loved being there and most of all he was getting into riding the rides.  We rode the Astro Orbiter, the Jungle Boat, the Haunted House (bad idea with a 2 1/2 year old), Roger Rabbit, Dumbo, Storybook River, Small World, Finding Nemo and we even played around on Tom Sawyer's Island (or whatever they call it these days).  After dinner at the Blue Bayou (overpriced, but a must do if you are there - and lunch may be better than dinner) we hit up a few more rides before heading back to the hotel.  It was an awesome day.  Until it wasn't.

I had brought my camera into the park to get some night shots, so the Mrs took the big guy and I strapped the little guy to my chest and wandered around the Astro Orbiter.  Every time I stopped to take a picture, the little guy would start to whine.  To be fair though, we were now at least a hour past his bed time.  We called it a day and started walking back to the hotel through Downtown Disney.  That's when it hit me.

My stomach made that awful noise that sounds and feels like it just opened up the gullet and let everything run for the intestinal tract as if to say "you fed me nothing but pretzels, ice cream, candy, questionable theme park food and some overpriced, undercooked meat?  I'm done with this fuckery, buddy.  You deal with it."  At first I was cool.  No big deal, I thought.  We're only a five minute walk to the hotel and our room.  I'll be fine.  But having the little guy attached to my chest and his weight just pushing in on my stomach was just making things worse.

About halfway there, I had to start clenching.  I was getting the "could be gas, could be poop" knocks on my  backdoor.  Then my stomach and intestines all gurgled at the same time...oh no...not that.  The sign of imminent fecal danger.  Like Indian Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark, there was a boulder coming my way and there was no stopping it.  The best you could do was hope to get out of the way.  At this point we were about 500 yards from the hotel and every step was getting harder and harder as my clench was losing the battle against the building pressure.  I told the Mrs. that I was in some real trouble and was going to move ahead.  I had to move quickly, but not too quickly otherwise I would lose my gluteus grip and all of my edible sins would come rushing out.

I made it to the elevator only to find about 7 other people waiting and the level indicator said it was on the 8th floor and not moving.  I started pacing back and forth all while trying to regain my cobra clench, but no luck and the elevator was still not moving.  That's when I saw it.  The bathroom down the stairs.  The Mrs was just walking in the lobby doors as I started down the stairs and shouted up that I would see her in the room.  She yelled something to me, probably something about taking the little guy from me, but I just yelled back "There's no time!"  And I ran in through the bathroom door.  Luckily there was no child behind the door as I would have likely maimed or killed him (just a note, bathroom doors should be hinged to pull out, not push in.  Nobody runs out of the bathroom, that's just stupid).  I then kicked (yes, literally) in the handicapped stall door (before you get your crutches in a bunch, I had the little guy on me and needed the room), dropped trou and hit the deck.

What happened next was both frightening and exhilarating all at the same time.  My ass made sounds it had never made before and you could almost hear all of the not-so-goodies flowing out of my guts.  Then the smell wafted up and that's when I re-realized I had the little guy attached to me still.  For just a couple of minutes, I had forgotten he was there.  Yet he was sound asleep (or knocked out from the sewer gasses emanating from my poop chute).  The kicking open of doors, the jostling around to get my pants down and the exaggerated drop to the toilet as my clench muscles finally exhaled - none of it affected his sleep.  Amazing.  I still had another several minutes of pressure relief to get through but the worst was over.  And wiping with a child strapped to your chest...not the greatest thing ever.  Clearly, Ergo and Baby Bjorn did not work in the ergonomics of ass wiping when they designed their products.

Alas, I was good to go.  Albeit 4 pounds lighter, but good to go.  I washed my hands and noticed I was sweating, and not just a trickle but profusely and all over.  So I cleaned up the face before heading back upstairs to my room.

As I walked back in the room the Mrs asked if I was alright and I told her "you don't even know."  Funny thing is that my night was far from over because if you read my blog regularly then you know that I went out shortly after this to take more photos and when I returned this happened.  Magic does live here, as do some well place bathrooms - thanks Walt!   

Family Vacations: Part 2: Too Much Fun Makes the Kids Throw Up

Congratulations!  You survived the trip to your destination with all of your limbs, your kids limbs and your marriage still intact.  Maybe you even got yourself a well-deserved good night sleep, but if not, no matter because today is a rally day - and rally we shall.  Like when you (or maybe this was just me) were back in college and spent all afternoon and all night drinking, eating jumbo slices of pizza the size of a yield sign or three cups of ramen and a box of Kraft mac'n'cheese at 3 A.M.  Passed out at 5 A.M. only to wake up at 10 A.M., finish the last slice of pizza and head out around noon to do it all over again.  The selfless, take-one-for-the-team, 'Ain't nothing gonna break my stride, nobody's gonna slow me down oh no, I've got to keep on moving'* kind of rally.

While you're on vacation and probably eager to get out and do whatever it is you have come to do, you can't skimp on breakfast.  It probably will be the best your kids, and consequentially you, eat all day.  .  Besides, you likely serve breakfast to your kids at home and I for one am a stickler for routine with my kids, without it I notice wildness creeping into them - no es bueno.  If you're like my family, we like to enjoy a little room service on the first day.  I'm not sure what it is about room service, because the food is often not that good - especially breakfast.  But a fresh fruit bowl, some oatmeal, a waffle and some coffee for Mrs. Griswold Wanna-Be (I seem to be the odd man out everywhere as I can't stand coffee, never have - at most I'll have some tea - and I think this comes from always smelling my father's breath as a kid and being overwhelmed by the eight cups of southwestern Connecticut's best worst coffee).  Now you are ready to tackle the day, or at least hang tight until lunch.

Our most recent trip was to Disneyland, and like any theme park there are height restrictions, long lines, obnoxiously large turkey legs (I'll get to my feeling on these nasty hunks of meat shortly), too many gifts shops and characters that may scar your kids for weeks.  So let's tackle these items one-by-one.

The rides.

My 2 1/2 year old has just gotten to the point of sort of liking rides.  He wants to ride everything until he's on it, then he wants off.  However, some of the rides he actually does love and like watching Curious George, you will ride these rides ALOT.  For us it was the Astro Orbiter.  Our son loved it.  We rode it about 10 times between myself and my wife, and though this would normally irritate me, just watching my son get into it every time was hysterical to watch.  But as much fun as rides are, they come with lines.  And in case you don't know, 20 minutes is a short line.  Apparently, 2 1/2 year olds don't understand lines because my son will try to drag me past everyone in front of us.  I explain to him that we have to wait like everyone else, but 2 minutes will pass and he is trying to pull me again.  You have to love their tenacity.  At this point you need to rely on the almighty parental tool, distraction.  Distraction is the first weapon of parenting I was taught and I use the hell out of it.  If you haven't learned to use this tool effectively, I feel bad for you.  You are the AOL of parenting.

The Characters (if visiting a theme park, or I guess anywhere as there are some damn scary people walking the street of any town USA).

My son was ecstatic to meet Mickey Mouse.  He watches Mickey Mouse Clubhouse every morning like he's watching it for the first time.  He knows the whole cast.  We even bought the Main Street USA Mickey Mouse train for the Christmas tree this year.  Needless to say, he loved it.  We thought about doing the character breakfast, but we knew better than to have him surrounded by several monstrous, crazy characters before he'd even had some orange juice.  Pure recipe for disaster, and we like to think of ourselves as good parents.  So we read that Mickey would be in Toon Town for photographs and it sounded great.  Once we got to Mickey's house, our son started to get a little apprehensive.  And like good parents we thought that walking through the intricately decorated house (as if Mickey were to actually live there) that he would warm up and get into the idea.  To our surprise, he actually did...kind of.  He went from holding on tightly to talking about the surroundings and pictures of other characters in the house.  Then we reached the door to pictures with Mickey.  We walked in and as soon as our son laid eyes on Mickey the drama began.  Screams of "NO, NO, NO!  Me no like Mickey!" began while he kept trying to climb over my shoulder.  We tried the tricks of distraction...no luck.  We tried bribery (another of my favorites of parenting tools)...no go.  Then we thought maybe we just switch his position on me to the outside and away from Mickey and still he was not having it.  So Mrs Griswold Wanna-Be had her photo taken with Mickey.  (One side note, if you go to Disney and give them your camera to take a picture of you with one of the characters be aware that they will take terrible pictures to make you buy theirs, so make them take it until it's right.  This was the silver lining in the entire event because even if we had calmed our son down the picture would have been all for not).  Characters are cool from a distance or better yet on TV.  If you're visiting a city, I don't suggest taking photos with "characters" you meet on the street.  Just sayin'.

The food.

I don't care if you are taking your kids to the Louvre or to Sesame Place.  Unless you're vegetarian, and your kids are vegetarian, you're going to be eating crap - part of the joy of vacation for you and your kids.  If you're visiting a city, don't think that you have avoided the candy cries.  There are street vendors everywhere with junk food, just waving your kids in like a Ground Marshall on the USS Ronald Reagan.  Pick and choose when kids get theirs "treats" - we settle for dessert with dinner.  But at lunchtime you don't need to feed them pizza, soda and chips.  And you sure as hell don't need to be eating the overly large turkey leg (for you theme park goers).  I'm going to go on a little tangent here.  That turkey leg is the dumbest thing theme parks have come up with.  In case you haven't seen it, it is about 9 inches long and about 4-5 inches in diameter.  No one.  I repeat, no one needs to be putting that in their face.  If you're fat it makes you look fatter.  If you're skinny it makes it appear as if you are eating a human leg.  If you are fit, then you just look like an *sshole.  I love meat just as much as any other carnivore out there, but to have grease dripping from my chin while holding a club of meat that looks more like Bam-Bams bat (see Flintstones) is where I draw the line.  I'd rather eat a stalk of broccoli.  And now I digress.  Just know that whatever you stick in your kids during lunch and through to dinner may get churned up.  There is a lot of running around, a lot of rides (particularly twirly ones) and their energy level is at 120% all day long.  The system will need to purge and as we all know there are only two ways it can go.

For our 2 1/2 year old it was out the top.  We had a long day in the park and rode the Astro Orbiter too many times.  He seemed fine when we put him to bed, but that didn't last too long.  At about 12:30 AM I heard him wake up and make some burping noises.  I didn't think much of it and told him to go back to sleep.  He did.  I then heard him sit up in bed again about an hour and a half later, burping and told him to go back to bed.  He shuffled around a bit but went back down.  Then about 30 minutes later I woke up to the smell of beans and tortillas and not the fresh kind.  It suddenly dawned on me what my son had been "burping".  I turned on the lights and the poor little guy was sleeping in his own vomit.  The shuffling I had heard was him trying to find a place without puke to lay back down in.  I picked him up and ran him to the bathroom - a little late for that - and told him to throw up in the toilet.  He made a sort of spitting noise, looked at me and said "me all done."  Then I noticed his hair was matted in refried beans as were his pajamas.  It's was time for a 3 AM bath.  Now that we had a clean boy it was time to go back to bed, only problem is that the room wreaked of pre-digested refried beans and tortillas.  So I let him sleep in my bed and we tried to tough it out.  20 minutes later he threw up on me- toughing it out was over.  Aside from moving into Mrs Griswold Wanna-Be and our 5 month old's room next door (who were both none the wiser of this entire event) there was nothing to do but call the front desk.

One big note when traveling, especially with kids, is to take care of your hotel staff.  Tip them well.

I can't stress that enough.  They may not do much for you besides make your beds and leave you with some fresh towels, but if you need them in the middle of the night it's nice to know they are there.  We had 2 maintenance guys come in and change the sheets on mine and my sons bed at 4 AM.  When I asked how often they had to do this they said "You'd be surprised.  Usually once a night."  While I felt terrible for them, I felt better for me.  I wasn't in this alone.  Needless to say with the throwing up, the baths and the guys coming in to change our beds, my son was wide awake.  I convinced him to go back to bed for about an hour but then our 5 month old woke up and that was that.  But we wouldn't be eating Mexican food the next day.

The only similarity of family vacations and bachelor(ette) parties is that once over, you need a vacation from the vacation yet you still need to get home.  Like climbing a mountain, getting up is only half the battle.  Luckily for us, the kids were exhausted and mostly slept for the drive home.  But if you're flying, good luck.  You're kids are used to all the excitement of the vacation - the flight will be boring, they will not sleep, they will need entertaining and you will be exhausted.  This is the moment your mother will relish.  Yes, your mother.  This is the moment she has been telling you about since you had your own kids.  The old "I can't wait until you have kids of your own, then you'll see".  And this is when that moment truly comes to fruition, and somewhere your mom is smiling.  Thanks mom, glad to be here.

*Matthew Wilder, "Break My Stride" (1983)