Lost

Note: I was chastised not at all subtley by mom this evening that I have not been blogging all my funny stories to the world in a timely enough manner. I was miffed briefly, but I conceded she was right. I need to realize that even though I'm exhausted and emotionally spent 95% of my day, people want to know about my life. Like any other celebrity, I have chosen this life in the spotlight.

I also want to mention that after hearing that some of you have tried to leave comments and could not, I've turned off the security feature for leaving comments-- hopefully that will solve the problem. If not, you'll just have to tell me how wonderful I am in person.

Anyway. Let's get on with the funniness.

Last week I was in the haze of horrible sinus pain that made me feel like my skull was going to burst into a million pieces. I was practically claustrophobic trying to escape the pain (I haven't yet determined what's been going on with my sinuses, but I'm starting to think it's my brain trying to implode when dealing with the boys). In this state of mind, I did what I always do when I'm not thinking clearly: I decided to embark upon a stupid adventure with the boys that I had no business undertaking. My mission: Go to Hobby Lobby (mecca for crafty people) and take a "quicker" backroads way home. With eyes practically crossing in pain, I studied the Google map carefully and loaded up the kids.

The actual shopping venture in Hobby Lobby is really another blog. Let me just throw out some keywords and I'll leave the rest to your imagination: no stroller or shopping cart, lots of breakable items, a bazillion kids crafts to choose from, total sensory overload, meltdown. There you have it. We stopped briefly afterward at Petland (did you know they have potties there?) and were on our way home.

I don't know if it was the nasal decongestant meds kicking in or I was just happy to survive Hobby Lobby, but I was pretty pleased with myself as we cruised the backroads home. I was just zipping along on Rt. 5 when I passed an intersection that gave me pause. Hmmmm... As drove further and further, I got that slightly sick feeling I might have missed a crucial turn. But I continued to drive, not wanting to let on that I was lost to two highly sensitive three-year-olds. Finally, I pulled over and pulled up my GPS location on my Blackberry. It just so happened that the place I pulled up to was a red warehouse that closely resembled the inflatable playground place that is the boys' #2 favorite place in the world (behind the bowling alley, of course). Convinced we had arrived at "The Jumping Place," the boys were inconsolable when they realized we were, in fact, just lost.

The concept of being lost, apparently, was something the boys previously only knew of in terms of Dora the Explorer. But now they were learning it happened in real life, too, and I could tell they weren't sure what to make of that, despite the fact that they see Mommy screw up on a daily basis. I studied the map, and convinced that Rt. 5 would eventually take me to Rt. 60, I pulled back on the road and stayed the course. Fifteen minutes later, I realized that Rt. 5 takes you to Rt. 60 alright, but it's Rt. 6o out in the freaking middle of nowhere. I had never seen this Rt. 60 before. Now I was nauseated. Several more wrong turns and stops later, I headed back to Where We Done Came From and took the turn all the way back at that stupid initial intersection, all the while fielding questions from the backseat about being lost. Within 15 minutes of that turn, we were pulling into our driveway. Praise the Lord. Lunch and naptime for everyone.

"Mommy, you know where you are now"? asked Jakey.

"Yes, Jakey, I know where we are."

But it gets better.

A few days later, we were getting ready to merge onto the interstate to head east. In his work vehicle, Hilton happened to be getting ready to merge west on the interstate. Jakey noticed this discrepancy in the direction.

"Mommy, are you lost?"

"No, Jakey, Mommy's not lost today. I know where I'm going. The other day I was lost."

"Yeah, you not that good a driver."

Thanks, Jake.