So I am watching the DVD on my laptop in a full airplane when I remember. “Six Feet Under” is full of sex scenes and drugs. Gay sex scenes! Smoking of weed! Dead people! Gore! Perfect for watching in public.

You know how you are on a train or an airplane and you glance over to see what other people are watching? I’m always like, Oh, that guy is watching Major League, I love that movie! or Really dude? Sister Act II? So I am sure the person next to me is thinking – Wow, that lady is watching Dexter having sex with a bald guy and now there are little kids in an embalming room. Wait, was that girl just sucking on that guy’s toes?

But I am not watching the in-flight movies again unless I am forced to. There is no way I am letting Miley Cyrus make me cry. Again.

So for now, “Six Feet Under” it is.

They shouldn’t let me out in public.

I think my questions are obvious:

1)   There is wallpaper in the airplane lavatories? I have to pay $25 per bag and six bucks for a shitty sandwich and United is spending money on wallpapering the restrooms? What the hell?

2)   Who is small enough to fit in there and wallpaper the place? Are there children performing this task? Is Twiggy working for the airlines? 

3)   Somebody is actually in charge for buying the wallpaper for airplane. Someone gets paid to do this. Weird.

4)   Number three wasn’t really a question at all was it?

5)   If I weren’t a blogger would I spend significantly less time  pondering airplane restrooms? Or would I just bother my husband with this sort of nonsense?

6) Wait – but I am a blogger. Can I write this flight off now that I’ve written this?

7) This is exactly the sort of crap that is preventing me from getting a book deal, isn’t it?

We are also eating amazing food and drinking incredible wine.

I’d say I wished you were here, but it is really nice to have it just be the two of us for the first time since the children were born.

I’ve got some nice meals to look forward to. We’ve secured reservations at The French Laundry, Mustards and Cyrus.

Now, who has recommendations for a place to stay in Healdsburg or Sonoma or Calistoga?

I’ve got my Napa days pretty well planned out, but what non-Napa vineyards/wineries are not to be missed? Consider yourself my AAA.

Not to be confused with my AA, you can be that when we get home.

2) It was yesterday.

3) Puerto Rican Day has a parade.

4) You can buy at least three different styles of tube dresses that say either “Puerto Rico” or “I heart Puerto Rico” on them.

5) Normal people should not wear tube dresses.

Does this seem unusual to anyone else? I mean you can’t really see this mirror from the shower and I don’t use the toilet THAT much. I guess it would be convenient during The Super Bowl but the rest of the time… superfluous.

(I know, it isn’t really a good picture of me OR Chris. Okay, yeah, it is a worse picture of him, but I don’t have all day to stand around taking pictures of my bathroom mirror when I’m on vacation. And yes, I do watch ESPN everytime I get the remote control.)

That is pretty much the only decent picture I took at the game. I know, I went all the was to West Virginia to watch a football game and I only took four pictures. I forced Gabe to take one of me but my eyes aren’t even open in it. Maybe my camera was frozen.

It is a good thing Gabe went out and bought us these the day before.

No. We’re not going to rob you. It just looks like it. Neck gaiters are awesome. I’d never even heard of them until I went to the Washington/Dallas game a couple of weeks ago.

I can tell you this right now, this accessorizing would not have been necessary had this game been played in Tampa.

The officiating may also have been a little more just.

Ahem.

Hey, I just realized why Gabe keeps calling me short.

ps – Now go look at this picture. Crazy, huh?

She refuses to take medicine.

Let me explain that Claudia always refuses to take medicine unlike her brother (and mother, to be honest) who will take medicine just because someone else is sick and it tastes good and/or makes you feel better. In fact yesterday when she was first ill we had this awesome fight where she refused to take some Tylenol to bring down the fever and I (being the mature lady that I am) threatened to take her to the hospital instead where they would surely give her an IV and when that didn’t work I told her if she let the fever get to high her brain could boil.

Even though she didn’t believe any of my threats her brother has been going around for about 20 hours now telling people that his sister had brain damage which is kind of a hilarious side effect.

Back to today – we are somewhere in the middle of Tennessee. I am in the car with both children and my Mother-in-Law and Father-in-Law and Claudia has a fever. She is very rosy cheeked and hot. She is sad and has a headache. We decide to stop at the first place we see (in this case a Wal-Mart. Apparently Tennessee is infested with Wal-Marts. Seriously they are omnipresent here.) and we stop to buy something that will help get rid of the headache and fever.

I seriously take her into this Super Wal-Mart and name every single flavor of every single children’s fever medication known to man. She hates them all. We finally decide on some dye-free Tylenol business that she used to take when she was a baby. It seemed that this was the closest to her favorite medicine – stool softener – which is the only medicine that Claudia will take orally.

No. The irony is not lost on me.

We get to the parking lot and Claudia is already crying even though her Grandmother is carrying her. After all three adults try unsuccessfully to get her to drink a teaspoon of medicine that tastes like candy I resort to more threats.

“If you don’t drink that by the time I count to three I am going to walk right back in that store and buy the kind of medicine that goes in your butt.”

And inexplicably she agree to this.

Twenty minutes later, after consulting with pharmacists and being led on wild goose chases by pharmacy techs I return empty handed. While it is very clear what I need it turns out that this particular Wal-Mart doesn’t carry it.

I go back to the car empty handed.* To which Claudia replies, under her breath “How unfortunate.”

MY FOUR YEAR OLD HAS A VERY STRONG GRASP OF SARCASM. She is also quite strong in vocabulary.

As I told Devra years ago (before my own children could talk this well) smartassery begets smartassery.

I have reaped what I have sown. I accidentally taught my four year old daughter to be a sarcastic bitch.

I also accidentally raised someone who would rather have something shoved up her ass than do something much more pleasant against her will.

We are so screwed when she becomes a teenager.

* Where my children were having this argument “She said she choosed the pharmacy.” “No! I said I choosed the suppository!”

Well, I couldn’t tell you yet because we had to wait for all of the legal stuff to get taken care of. But I can tell you now.

I’m going on a road trip to BlogHer!

That’s right. You heard me. Me and three other suckers from the Silicon Valley Mom’s Blogs (DC Metro Moms Blog, Chicago Moms Blog and the soon to be launched Rocky Mountain Moms Blog) will be driving to San Francisco.

I know it sounds crazy. Yes, I know it is 2823 miles from Washington DC to San Francisco, but we are getting a Hybrid Chevy Tahoe to drive and I don’t have to pay for the gas.

I hope you will check out our website. Devra and I will be leaving here on Saturday. We drive to Chicago to pick up Meagan, then to Omaha, then we will pick up Aviva in Colorado. The next day we will stop in Salt Lake City, Utah and the day after that Reno, Nevada. On Thursday we will stop off in Silicon Valley to pick up Jill and then we will show up at the hotel for BlogHer.

We will be blogging and posting videos the whole time.

I realize that a road trip of four Moms going to a blogging convention may earn me a nomination into the nerd hall of fame, but I expect it to be a great time.

Did I mention you can follow us on Twitter?

And now that I have spent 45 minutes trying to establish this fact I am going to go read a book and relax.

That is what normal people do on vacation that aren’t hopelessly addicted to the internet, right?

Right?

Does anyone even remember what people did before blogs? (and nobody say they had real jobs either or I’ll come over there.)