Burgerville with little rascals -- Part 1 (this is my incentive to create a part 2)

This mothering thing is kicking my butt.

I drove my boys home from Anacortes earlier this week, which is kind of like running a marathon with your kids. You must plan and prepare, load up on food, think about your strategy, and make sure you go the bathroom right before you start.

Our trip was remarkably uneventful, until we reached the last 10 miles of Washington. I could practically see Oregon it was so close. And although we have over an hour or so of driving once we cross over, it still feels like the home stretch.

But it was then when Isaac decided to act like he was dying. He was crying so hard I thought surely there was something wrong, I took the next exit for Burgerville. For those of you who don't know about Burgerville, it is like a bright spot in the fast food line up. The smart and overachieving cousin of those other places. You can eat a hamburger that looks kind of like something from McDonalds but feel smug about the fact that it is grass fed Oregon beef and the wrapper is compostable. I really like Burgerville. And this one, I happened to know, had a little kid play area. Not a creepy oversized hamster cage sort of thing, but a cute corner with mini picnic tables, books, trains, and cars. Let's just say I was thrilled Isaac waited till this exit to have his meltdown.

Yet Will had a freak out of his own up his sleeve and for some reason it involved deciding I needed to carry him into Burgerville. Now Will is big. Almost 4 years old and at the top of the growth charts. I'm a strong girl--I can carry him, but I can not easily carry him and Isaac. Thus in a parking lot situation, Isaac gets the first choice in the "being carried" department. Will was not happy with this arrangement--he didn't agree with my belief that if I carried him I wouldn't be able to run after his brother fast enough to save him from a speeding car. Maybe I should have considered this a compliment. Will apparently believes I am a super hero.

Anyways, Will decided he didn't want to come into Burgerville and stood screaming and crying on the outside of the doors. Isaac and I looked on from the inside of Burgerville, intervening when strangers asked Will if he was lost or needed help with the door.

Finally he caved (or I won) and his little feet shuffled inside. We ordered and he perked up, too easily if you ask me.

Next came the biggest hurdle of traveling with a preschooler and toddler without a second adult present: a visit to the bathroom. Now on the ride up to Anacortes we had experienced an uncomfortable moment when Isaac peeped under the stalls at a poor lady, then seconds later Will pulled a stall door WIDE open on a different women sitting atop her porcelain throne. There were only two stalls in the whole bathroom--how is it that my boys had violated the people in both stalls in less than a minute? Anyways, you can imagine how thankful I was when this time we found the bathroom empty.

I locked us in the largest stall, which unfortunately means it is big enough that each child is just slightly out of my reach while I am peeing. Here are the things that proceeded to happen:

• While I was helping Will pee, Isaac was creating a massive pile of toilet paper on the floor behind us. 
• Then while I was going to bathroom (I'm a squatter--hate to take the time to put down paper), Isaac was dragging the toilet paper he had just unrolled and putting it into the toilet behind me by the fistful. Now I was trying hard to stop him, but I was going to the bathroom--I had my own business to take care of!
• Meanwhile Will was opening and slamming the sanitary napkin disposal container over and over while I tried to stop Isaac. 
• Then while I was still trying to finish up going to the bathroom myself, Will proceeded to open wide the stall door and walk out to the sink leaving the door swung open! "HEY--Come back here!"

All this happened in about 30 seconds, and it was enough to make me both cry and laugh at the same time. The other funny piece to the story is that Will is really afraid of automatic flushing toilets--he hates being surprised by loud noises. Which with three people in the stall, the motion detector always goes off at the wrong time, causing Will to throw his hands up to his ears and howl like he has seen a ghost. This is especially unfortunate when he is peeing, as it usually means things go way off course and we end up watering the wall or in some instances Isaac as he stuffs toilet paper into the toilet. 

We topped off our bathroom experience with Isaac making one last large pile of paper towels on the floor. Darn those paper towel machines that automatically cue up for the next person. They were not considering the appeal to those under 3 feet tall when they created them.

Now this is only half the story. The saga continued, but alas this is all the writing I have in me at the moment.

You might have to wait another 6 months to get the rest of the story. 

Now these pictures have nothing to do with Anacortes or our road trip bathroom troubles. 

I realized I don't have many pictures from the past few months, probably because there were more moments I hope never to relive than those I hope to remember (terrible, as it sounds). 

But of course, I did capture the one time I got out the paint. 

Makes me look like such a creative and fun mom, doesn't it? 

You all know better.