Heated Marble Floors

Some of you may have seen pictures on Facebook of our recent boat trip.
Seemed like a great day of fun, no? (Besides the crying baby...)

Well, it's time to confess...the crying baby was the LEAST of our issues that day!

We have a FABULOUS babysitter. Lexie. My girls ADORE her and want to be JUST LIKE HER when they grow up, which btw, I am totally ok with, because she is a total gem! On Saturday, it was her 14th birthday, so our two families decided to take our awesome boat...fine...THEIR awesome boat...out on one of the many lakes around our area to celebrate with sun, fun, and bbq food on a private beach. GREAT idea, right?

There were two lakes we were debating between, and decided on Lake A over Lake B because, "being a long weekend and all, Lake A will probably be less busy." After an hour of driving, (and listening to enough "Mommy, I'm hungry"'s to make you want to stuff an entire burger bun in your kids mouth just to keep them quiet) we were getting close to the gates of the park...when we began to notice both sides of the road lined up with parked cars and trucks and empty boat trailers. For miles. Parked cars. M-I-L-E-S. Once we reached the boat launch, Daddy G and Lexie's dad dropped us off to hurry up and wait in the boat as they went to the back of the car line up to park...and then walk back to us. Another hour, and almost an empty hamburger bun bag later, the men returned already looking a bit frazzled, and our FUN trip hadn't even begun yet!

After all our lifejackets were on and everyone was situated in their seats, both of my girls decided that was the perfect time to announce that their bladders were going to burst. Being the good mother I am, I told them they could hold it...for an hour...over rocky, bumpy waves...ok...that's not going to happen. I inwardly sighed, (read: tore my clothes, poured ashes over my head and wailed uncontrollably), smiled understandably (read: glared at Daddy G, begging him with my eyes to do the portapotty duty), and undressed the 14 layers off the girls (did I mention there was NO sign of sunshine on this JULY 31, and I actually brought along our winter parkas...just in case we ran into a snow storm out there, which felt like a real possibility at this moment) to take them back out of the boat, up the hill to empty themselves in a glorified, yet still reak ridden, hole in the ground.

Upon return, nearly 2.5 hours after the time we had PLANNED to set sail...Lexi's dad turned the key to crank up our kickin ride. Time to get this party started!! Chick chick chick....again....chick chick chick....nothing. No motor sound. No roaring engine. Dead. The battery of the boat...dead. Really? Ok, at this rate, let's just toss the kids in the lake...they all have life jackets after all, and lets just float over to the private beach that glows with the promise of vacation relaxation, complete with beach boys bringing us all virgin pina coladas at beckoned call. Lexie, always the optimist, said, "It's ok dad...we have another battery in the truck." Have we forgotten that the men needed to run a near half marathon to GET to the truck? My kids were still saying they were hungry, since it was past lunch time now, and I thought that the smoke piling out of Lexie's dad's ears could have at least served a purpose to heat up the hot dogs.

Lucky for us, the boat behind us in line to get out on the lake had jumper cables and was so kind to jump our battery. After 3 tries, Benton the boat roared to life, and we were FINALLY on our way...I could hear Shania Twain singing somewhere off in the yonder...oh oh oh...it only goes up from here... I mean, it HAD to get better now right? A few minor obstacles, but now the vacation begins!

Blood-curdling SCREAMING. That's what filled my ears for the next 30 minute boat ride. It was very windy and the waves were very choppy and my 2 year old was very very loud! He HATED being tied into his lifejacket. He HATED being on the boat. He HATED the water splash his face. He HATED the wind whip his eyes. I was holding him so tight, b/c I was sure at any moment he was just going to decide he had had enough and toss himself overboard.

Just as his face was turning a nice shade of purple and his vocal chords were becoming hoarser by the second, we saw the first glimpse of the beach. There were several inlets to chose from, so naturally, we picked the one with the fewest boats anchored. And unbeknownst to us, possibly the worst place in the whole lake to try to dock a boat. Lexie's mom, Tina and I and all of my babes, all swam on to the beach...ok, who am I kidding, I am a girlie girl, and a total wimp...yes, I got Daddy G to piggy back us all, so that no part of my body would have to touch that freezing cold water. He's my hero. For real. Because after we were on the beach, we watched him dive down to the bottom of the lake over and over, with the boat anchor, trying desperately to find a lone rock in the sand to secure the boat. After an hour and a half of this, Lexi's dad thought we should try a spot further down. As he backed the boat up, he passed another "parked" boat, and the owner, who was on the beach and watching our whole anchoring fiasco, started FREAKING out that we were going to "cut his line" that anchored him to the bottom. Our boat wasn't even close. He started yelling obscene profanities at Lexie's dad and I could already see the upcoming bloody boxing match between these two once he finally made it onto land. We weren't making friends.

It was about this time that I needed a break, and really, I needed to pee. Have I mentioned I am a girlie girl? I don't camp. Unless it's in a fully equipped RV, complete with running water, a kitchen, a hot tub, cable TV, heated marble floors, and of course a toilet. Then...maybe. But there were no RV's around. And no toilets. So I enlisted my girls to hold up a towel in front of me, as my cover, while I attempted at least 7 different squat positions. Finally, just as I thought I may have found a winner, Bree got tired of her duty, dropped her end of the towel, and the whole lake and anyone on it, got nice view of a pregnant , half naked woman peeing all over her yoga pants.

The men had now successfully anchored the boat to a rock and a tree, praying that it wouldn't suddenly drift away, and were lugging the bbq gear over to where we were. FOOD! Finally. A good 4 hours "late", but none the less, we were going to eat! We slapped those hamburger patties and hotdogs onto the bbq, closed the lid, and drooled as we anxiously awaited our nostrils being filled with the smells of the promise of tastebud heaven. We waited. And then waited some more. Oh, and then after that...we waited. Finally, we lifted the lid to see 10 very raw dogs and burgers. The bbq wasn't working. Ok. Improv. How bad was it REALLY to eat raw patties? Like come on. All that salmonella stuff...does that REALLY happen? Come on kids...eat up! YUM!

K, maybe not.

After tampering with levers and buttons, the bbq suddenly decided to work, and now nearly 5 hours after lunch time, we had the BEST hot dogs and burgers known to mankind.

Seeing as though it was now dinner time, we had to head back. So our relaxing beach day, ended up being about 45 minutes on a rocky terrain, being whipped by the wind as we picked the sand out of our teeth. Happy Birthday Lexie!

We did end up tubing on the way back, which was A LOT of fun...for the kids...MY heart was about to jump out of my chest at every wave they crossed.

Last, but not least, would a long weekend/birthday boat ride be complete, without returning to your vehicle to find it had been broken into, your locks had been completely wrecked and your ipod, cash and various small item ripped off?? Yeah. Good times. That was Lexie's dad's truck. The smoke again, from his ears, could have easily cooked a better hamburger than that bbq any day.

Next time they may just want to leave the boat behind, and join us in our heated marble floor RV.