"Over the river & through the woods to Grandma's house we go." If only it were that easy...

I'll preface this post with the scene of my long time childhood friend sitting across from me one morning at the Orem Juice N Java during my week in Utah. As I related the "adventure" (Johnathan's words not mine) of our road-trip from Texas to spend Christmas at my parents with all my siblings and my new nieces, she kept exclaiming apologetically "No, there's not more!" But there was.

As if packing up a family of four for a 20 hour road trip isn't enough of a project under normal circumstances--add to that stacks of wrapped gifts, bags and suitcases of gifts from Santa (reinforced & hidden), winter & ski clothing (keeping track of the tiniest boots & gloves imaginable for the 1 year old), and the four advent calendars we "couldn't" leave behind. One Star Wars Lego, two chocolate, and lets not forget the giant-blue-felt-sewn-Pottery Barn inspired-Christmas Tree monstrosity with the hand-sewn detailed pockets (which its completion consumed November 2009 & 2010.) But my hard work was not why Zayne insisted on its transport. It's my own fault really. Last year I started the tradition of leaving small prizes in the pocket each night for Zayne to find in the morning. In my defense, I was pregnant, nesting, and oblivious of the yearly commitment I had bound myself to. It's all I could do to keep up with it this year. I told him that it was me that filled the pockets most days, but sometimes the "Christmas Elf" beats me to it with a special prize (like the Captain America & Wolverine action figures that we could never find at the store.)

The promise of meeting my new niece, seeing all of my siblings, and bringing my boys to the magical play land of Grandma & Grandpa's at Christmas propelled me through the week and a half of preparation & packing. Monday December 20th we set out in the rented SUV, packed to the hilt at 3pm. The plan was to drive straight through the night and arrive in Utah sometime late afternoon on Tuesday. About 10:30pm we reached the Texas/New Mexico border and were alerted that the main highway had been closed due to a snow storm. I have to admit I had a sinking foreboding that toyed with the idea of just turning around. Our driver had already found us an alternate route on the trusty iPhone, and we were headed south in a sight distorting tunnel of billowing snow. We made it to Clovis (aka BFE) NM when we hit a roadblock. An oil tanker had spun off the road, resulting in a spill, thus closing our "alternate route". Sometime after midnight we checked into a thankfully clean but amenity-less Econo Lodge. The next morning about 9am we headed back on the road after hearing that the interstate was to be reopened. As we joined the rows of semi's and vehicles lined up for the impending opening, our children began to be restless after 10 minutes of stationary idling. There is a discrepancy between Johnathan and I on the conversation that transpired at this point. I say that I suggested we go turn around and have breakfast and map out our options. He says that I said "find us an alternate route." (Because that worked out so well for us the night before)--somehow logic dictates that as we are out in the middle of nowhere with ice and snow covering every surface I wouldn't just flippantly suggest taking County Farm roads into an uninhabited abyss of fields. Whatever I said, his interpretation was to drive us out into the back farm roads filled with snow with the "reassuring" declaration "It will be an adventure!"


We plowed through snow, circumvented deep tracks, drove up on the shoulder, got stuck for a few minutes to which he skillfully rocked us out, and continued onward. Although the road was not getting clearer, I restrained my passenger seat comments (I've been married 11 years know how backseat driving is received, and know that I have another day in the car with this man.) When I look ahead I see the large grooved tracks from a semi that had skidded off the road, and cruuuunnnncccchh. And Stop. Rev the engine. Rock the SUV, alternating between drive and reverse--and nothing. We are stuck. As I glance around, I see snow, sky, and the semi up the road. Nothing else, for miles. To my credit, I say nothing. Johnathan later described it as an "uncharacteristic silence".

So he starts trudging through the snow in his Chucks with no socks to the semi-truck up the road. I begin settling in with the kids for the long haul. 20 minutes later Johnathan returns cut & bleeding, & laboring under two 2X4's. The object is to rock the wheels onto the boards to gain traction. I'm ushered into the drivers seat while he pushes the car from the outside. Now I can't really say what transpired in those moments, except that it's clear that despite my upbringing in the Michigan winters, I never learned how to expertly "rock" the car out of a snowbank by alternating Drive and Reverse at the correct intervals. All the sudden I realize the exasperated commands have stopped and see Johnathan trudging his way back up the road. I look down, see his cell phone in the center console, and jump out and start yelling. The wind carries my voice away and he doesnt look back. I jump back inside and my morbid mind fast forwards to the worst case scenario. We've been left here to die. Surprisingly my survival instincts kicked in and I took a quick inventory of our fuel, food, milk, clothing, water, toys, games, snacks supply. Next I decided I should attempt to pin-point our GPS coordinates now instead of when I'm on the phone with 911 in a hypothermia induced daze. I don't know why I thought we'd still be on the grid. My google map returned as Unknown Location, and my Garmin was back home in my car. We could still place calls and so I got the boys lunch (clementines & string cheese), and dialed my mom (She's loves me, I knew I'd get sympathy there, and if we were MIA too long I could count on her to organize a search party for us.) My mother advised that I find out where we are with the google maps app and then call the state troopers... Yup, unknown location mom. I've gotta go salvage my phone battery and attend to the beckoning from the backseat. I held out hope for John, said a prayer, and forewent the call to the state troopers, on 78% phone battery left.



A couple hours later, as the boys and I are singing "10 Little Reindeer" led by Zayne, I caught a glimpse, of what appeared to be, an approaching vehicle in the distance. I asked Zayne to watch and see if it was getting closer, while I wrestled Pender through a diaper change in the front seat. I may or may not have thought, "I certainly hope that is Johnathan, or a good Samaritan, I'm really not in the mood to prostitute myself out of this situation." (Hey...remember I'm jaded, I've had a couple of girlfriends along the way who ran into some trouble out in The Middle of Nowhere, NM. Scary stuff.) I'm jolted from my over-the-top-but-realistic-paranoia by Zayne exclaiming that "Mom! It's a big green tractor!" Relief. I knew it was John. Sure enough, he was riding on a huge John Deere tractor that proceeded to pull us out of the snow. Grateful we thanked & payed the rancher for his help.....with cash.

Being stuck for hours in a car that is moving with children is challenging. Being stranded in a stationary vehicle with a 11 month old and a 5 year old? I had nearly exhausted my nursery rhyme song index and had just resorted to a goofy rendition of Party Rock Anthem. Another hour, and I might be massacring a Barbara Streisand classic. So it would make sense that instead ofcruising directly out of the County Road maze to the now clear entrance ramp to the freeway we may need a pit stop. Just to use the bathroom. Regroup. Or GET THE HELL OUT OF THE CAR!? Somehow we blew right by the last McDonald's play-world for hundreds of miles. (I wasn't driving.)

Once we finally stopped for lunch/dinner the rest of the day went fairly smoothly. The boys were troopers! We did a gas station, bedtime "routine", and they both drifted off. Until we were crossing the Utah border. Pender woke up screaming bloody murder, disoreinted and upset not to be in his bed. We pulled off in Monticello at a gas station and re-situated the entire seating chart so that I could switch places with the tub of toys in the backseat to sit by Pender. Zayne of course woke up in the process, also disoriented, and freezing from the cold Utah air. He too began uncharacteristically wailing. Even after getting re-seated, the doors shut, and heat pumping at full volume, both boys were still going strong as we pulled out of the gas station accelerating onto the entrance road to the highway. I heard the expletive in the front seat before I heard the siren. Sure enough, we were getting pulled over, right in front of a 40mph speed limit sign. The sobbing reverberating the interior of the car was deafening. Until the two cops were peering in the drivers and passenger side front windows. Complete silence. My eyes menaced at both of them. Really! Really!?! You both choose this moment in life, the one moment I need you to scream as loudly as possible, to not make a peep. Fabulous. Apparently we were clocked going 41 mph in the 30 mph zone although we had barely turned out of the parking lot and got pulled over in the 40 mph zone. He wrote it for the higher bracket. To which, Johnathan exclaimed, "Really! I have my kids, we were stuck in a snowstorm, we've been driving all day, and they were screaming the last half hour, you really can't give me a break!?" Bad cop, good cop. Bad cop won out. John grumbled at the cops as he rolled up the window, and as the cops walked away from the SUV, both children burst into tears again. I saw the neck muscles tense as he jerked his head to our direction and yelled "EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Immediately followed by a semi-shushed "Shut up is a bad word. Daddy said a bad word." I shot that child the "mommy death look", the one that would silence the inmates. We still had 5 hours left, and all I could think was the line Reese Witherspoon says as June Carter in the movie Walk the Line, "Get me outta this car & all these boys..."

We made it to my parents at 3am, the only way Pender would stay asleep the last 3 hours was if we kept listening to his Rock-a-bye Baby Journey CD (it's probably not a mistake that it was one of the items that was left at my moms.) But the details of the drive immediately began to mute with the exuberant reception from my parents.


Some of the highlights from our week with my fam include:

-Watching my father and brother play Just Dance 3 on the Wii.

-Zaynes interjection into the Christmas Eve dinner conversation with all of my siblings, aunt, and grandmother of "If you are looking for the perfect girl, my mom is not the perfect girl!"

-Wrapping presents in the basement with my siblings on Christmas Eve while we laughed and reminisced.

-Hanging out with my sister in my parents basement bathroom while she straight ironed her hair for a date, while relaying her experiences of being pressured into joing LDS Singles. com by our grandfather, and then the string of dates that ensued. One which included a divorcee who told her that on his wedding night he was "too big" for his wife. Compensating for much buddy!?

-Meeting my beautiful new niece Lucy, and watching my brother be a great father.

-Enjoying the bubbly adorableness of my niece Jade.

-My Mom's amazing holiday meals, that take a day or two of preparation.

-Painting a 5ftX6ft canvas for my sisters Christmas present "Beach Therapy" in my parents garage. My Dad helped me set up my station with tarps, and loaned me some residential painting supplies. My sister loaned me her paints (I brought my own brushes.) And My Mom watched my boys while I got to escape completely into the canvas.

-Taking my boys up American Fork canyon to go sledding, and watching Pender explore snow for the first time.

-Visiting with my Aunt Deb & Grandma Crawford one afternoon.

-Going up to the foothills of the mountain to go shooting with Johnathan, my Dad, and brothers. The shot gun was awesome!

-Lining up with my siblings and sister-in-laws on the stairway of my parents basement on Christmas Eve listening to my father outline the rules of the "Hide the Pickle Ornament Game". Listening to the resulting Q&A session that ensued until our exasperated ADD tendency siblings exclaimed "LET'S JUST START!" Then racing through the kitchen towards my Mom's Christmas Tree to search for The Pickle Ornament. The winner receiving a massage at Sego Lily Day Spa. We actually maintained much more order than I thought possible of our group. That is until I heard a cry of pain from under the Christmas Tree, and my husband emerging clutching his eye. Apparently he laid down under the tree to peer up through the branches and at the same time someone parted the branches from above, plunging a pointed crystal ornament right into his eye. His cornea visibly scratched and red, he declined the hospital, and went to bed. Delaying the ER visit until Christmas morning, as we were all gathered around the kids watching them explore their Santa gifts. My father didn't make me abandon my kids on Christmas morning, and stepped up to take him to the ER. They were thankfully back within the hour without further complications, with a pocketful of Percocet, which incidentally landed Johnathan in bed for the rest of the holiday. As bad as I felt about his injury & discomfort, I have to admit I was more than a little disappointed that he got stabbed in the eye with an ornament and we had to forgo Christmas sex.