Ethan and I took the kids on an adventure this past weekend to my in-laws house in Tucson, about two hours away from our Phoenix area home. They are both wonderful people and very easy to be around (my in-laws, not my kids). Just the same the entire experience was painful. I don't want to be dramatic by throwing out a word like painful. It wasn't like having gallbladder surgery or a root canal. You can be anesthetized for those procedures. This was far worse.

My in-laws home is not childproofed to the standards with which we've become accustomed. It is so interesting what different people deem childproofed. For instance, I don't consider any room with more than one child in it to be childproofed. So when we arrived I individually scanned every object in their house and quickly, albeit rationally, identified how each one could be misused to create an emergency situation that may cause me to have to get up. I didn't go to Tucson to get up. I went to Tucson to sit down.

The dream of getting to spend some time sitting down came to an abrupt halt every time I sat down. Whenever I touched down on the sofa an alarm sounded in one of my kids heads, and s/he ran around the house frantically screaming until I jerked to my feet, thereby disarming the offending alarm. Had I actually attempted a reclining position, I would have run the risk of one of them spontaneously combusting, so I only did that once. Twice. Whatever.

Im pretty sure by the end of the weekend Ethan's parents were ready for us to head home. That's what I gathered when I was awakened Sunday morning at 4 a.m. to the purr of our minivans engine, bags packed and loaded for us, the car having been repositioned, now facing the freeway. I was willing to chalk all of that up to coincidence until I spotted the Phoenix or Bust sign they had painted and hung in the back window.

Fortunately we survived the stay and Brynn didn't break out into a random, severe rash, cause unknown, until we were at least five minutes into the drive home. Colin was unappreciative of the gift of time alone strapped down in his car seat and repeatedly threw his stuffed bear onto the floor. But its okay, because I picked that bear up for him for the last time at mile marker 112, 116, 121, 124, 138



Sheri Granger is the mother of Irish twins, born eleven months apart. She's going to be more careful next time! Sheri is a former middle school teacher and phenomenal cook. Just last night she made Spaghetti O's WITH meatballs. Sheri rocks the microwave! Please check out her web site at www.myminivanisfasterthanyours.com.