The last attempt to write up Yellowstone.

 This has been harder to write than any other update in this damn blog. It's time to go big or go home so fuck it, I'll start from the beginning again and work on my vocabulary as we go.

So, this is Peter's life. School runs, and trying to match the other school buses  with his color. He is not blending in any better than I've hoped, and I do admit enjoying that more than anyone should.

I got shouted for jumping out and taking this shot, so I love it more than any shot ever before!

The journey to Yellowstone was quiet at times. We enjoyed nice conversations held by a well rested person in the car, kids were reading and pumped up on motion sickness drugs. We covered the miles with me listening to music all the time I was not needed for correcting some misinformation floating around in the car, and naturally going through the rules on how to handle different animals if encountered.  I also made sure everybody got fed before the night fell, and we settled for the serious miles.From the last time, I had prepared for the last 100 miles to take almost 3 hours because of animals and fog, so I was surprised more than anyone to realize we got there at 5.30 am.

Now, things I can not stress enough are: Do not speak to me before I've had my coffee. After a night like that one above, I needed an hour of sleep before hiking from place to place, so we went to the tent hotel first. I wanted a quiet hour, got 20 minutes, I asked the restaurants waiter who brought me coffee to marry me, he said his boyfriend doesn't approve, I got coffee, off we went. 

As mentioned before in the last post, tired truly doesn't work in a family trip. The reasons NOT to be tired in one are listed below.

First, hubby turned into an idiot. I fucking hell do not ever want to hear an other lecture about a bison pooping in the back of a selfie, and trust me, he tried to take one or two  that day. I got the closest one, and you might see I was a bit tired too. I'm adding this pic here just as a reminder never, ever to do this again.

Bison's ass on the right. he was indeed pooping and that's the smile I use in the funerals of relatives, the spouse was at that point going to be the next main character.

So tired, oh so tired. Kids never bother me, and I actually love telling them all the facts they want to know, I make assumptions and let them know they are those. I love seeing them learn and I can not stand them getting facts wrong, fun when someone else does the same thing too. not so much if the person talking  never pauses to think what they are saying next, now, or ever... a long ass day. 

I mean I tell you guys as lot. I got a few good hits with a man who used his belt to keep me from removing him from the apartment of one of my cases. I saw that as a funny incident since I wasn't ready to handle it. I fucked up. Me getting beaten up even a little? On me. my fault. It is really a good thing for me to learn to admit finally that I do fuck up. Well, here it is: I truly fucked up with this trip. So badly actually the minor episode of the nice man is not going to even make to the top of my list of fuckups of this summer. I keep picturing it still, a week later why I did this to myself and how on earth I still am surprised we all lived through it. No answers yet.

 

Now, At this point I smeared bacon  grease in clothes of those who made this trip harder for me to get the bears to handle it all for me. Yellowstone is apparently full of them? no. it is not.

Now, since this more of a parenting tip post, here are a list of things you do not want to happen.

Do not let a three year old go to a raging river with anyone else but the people who have protected him all his life. Just don't. Nobody else will be able to understand that when they ask for help, they mean it.

Let's spot the shirts line.

a tree turned into stone. Nobody else cares but you.

Bring leashes if you don't want your dogs enjoying a  squirrel hunt in the worlds most famous national park. Rabies (jr) did indeed enjoy snow though, Kissa was more reserved.

Things you do not do list is a long one, but here is a description of our long standing family tradition. We call it the moment both parents short circuit at once.

It's always innocent. It starts off fine. Either I command action instead of waiting and planning and with the input of the redneck (see the pick above, he can not be in the sun) I married, or just me doing all of it to us, we end up in situations normal people never see. Example 1. 

"I'm really, really pregnant, and it's a week after the due date, hey let's go to the summer house a hundred miles away from our hospital we live next to. What on earth could happen?"

Yeah, we hurried back the same night. the kiddo stopped hurrying after we got back. I'm not very bitter, but I'm going to do my best to ruin his life.

Example 2: We live in Seattle. We are going to the ocean. we are doing it now. We drove for two hours, found the sea, sadly we ended up in a trailer park, it was 11 C outside ( 52 F americans), I refused to leave the car, and the fog was so thick I had to guide the family back to the car after they got lost. Fun times.

Example 3: "Fuck it, I am not waiting around or driving back the easy and safe way, we are going to take this tiny lane our cars navigation, or any of the three phones here can't find. It'll be faster since it's shorter, and I know what I'm doing!"

Yeah,, it took us back to the tents. It also was the slowest road ever since unlike many think, a Q7 has zero offroad capabilities.  Show it gravel, and enjoy the AWD. right. The mass of the car makes it move like nothing else, and I truly do not mean this as a compliment. The weirdo in me truly missed peter. Even if I would've had to spend the night evening out the bumps on the road, he would've beaten the SUV. I've said it before, but it is indeed the worst attempt to make a useable car for those with lives ever.

So there we were, somewhere. Night was closing in, no ideas when or if the road would lead us to a main one. The only thing the Audi kicks the ass of Peter is her lights. She keeps them up or down as told, no adaptive too wide bs. The climbs were steep, the drops were also, I almost crashed her twice since the gear box even set to the "manual" settings is slow and unpredictable.

Hubby approved this shortcut since a pooping bear was not captured as an image yet. No pooping or any furry shit of any kind was seen if we don't count the two men who told us 3 miles before the end of the road that yes, it does connect to an other.

At least this sight was seen after we made it out of the woods:

Wah, cows. learn how to take the important shots.

I got a garden chair as a bed. I was tired  enough to be happy with that.

Yes, they came because nobody could take my spoiled pups.

I truly do not know what was worse: driving the ringed one, or doing it in a place you'd want to be driving an Imprezza. coffee stains as usual can be seen.

Last time it was fuck yourself, this time around I was too tired for insults. Written in the exact same spot might I add as his last avatar was. I was honored to see him using this.

Touristy shit.

On our way back the theme in the car was pretty much the same, happy chatting from one, or then she did this, again.

Has anyone told you family road trips with small kids is a good idea? No? Above is the reasons why.

It took me a week to get this post sorted. That is how many traumas needed to be sorted out before anything remotely funny could be found from it. Selfies, or in my case hubby taking a pic with a pooping buffalo in the back. Sometimes ending up in jail for murder can be seen as the better option, even in the eyes of a pacifist like I.