Day 4 - Getting high in Prescott

Reality check


We start the day out bright eyed and bushy tailed (what does that mean really? so weird). We think "short drive to Williams, AZ day!" Just a hop skip and a jump through the desert and over some mountains. We may have been a bit delusional about this day. I let the positive thinking carry me through at least 7:45 am.

Morning! I didn't sleep up here, but had to give the up-high bed a visit. This was G's "room."

The crazy winding roads on desert mountains really slow us down. Also Mike starts having issues with the altitude. It may have been said before that I "lack a common sympathy gene" by someone in our family that rhymes with "like." I don't play the comforting wife role very well. After 46 hours of labor with Arlo, having malaria three times and climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, my only thought is, "isn't this only like 4,000 feet?" A wise sage called Dr. Mike says that "certain things hit guys harder because they are bigger and have more muscle mass." There is no amount of scientific evidence that will sway my man from this belief, so I hold tight and hand him some Tylenol and gum.

Pretty to look at- as a passenger.

After what seems like forever, we finally arrive in Prescott, AZ for lunch. This was on our agenda! We made it to our first must-see! We have lunch on Whiskey Row (The Palace) and take in the old west town. At this point we realize Arlo's desire to announce "I'm pooping" loudly and then go under a dining table is not isolated to his own house. However in a restaurant it turns out he would prefer to poop under another person's table, while announcing it to them. "Just keeping it real folks! Don't mind me under here shitting in my pants! ENJOY YOUR MEAL!" I'm too tired to care or do much about it and frankly, I'm just happy he's not screaming his head off in a car seat. He is somehow adorable to others, even when he is turning bright red straining while looking up at you eating your salad.

Not pooping under someone else's table. For the moment. 

After lunch we get popcorn and treats.  This popcorn expedition kicks off Arlo yelling for "CHEESEYCORN!!!" whenever he wants a snack, putting him even more in the role of Cartman from South Park than he was before. This continues for 12 days of yelling for cheeseycorn (which mommy polishes off while drinking and watching a movie one night. I went down to the valley of death to have you Cartman, I can eat your cheeseycorn if I want!)



For the afternoon drive to Williams, AZ (the first place we HAVE to get to because we have purchased tickets for the next morning for a train ride to the Grand Canyon) we wish hope and pray for naps and an easy ride. No dice. More screams of "I no like bacation!!! NO LIKE!!!!!" from Lo. This makes G cry because he is trying to sleep. It's pathetic, G keeps saying, "it's OK Arlo! Just close your eyes Arlo!" while crying from frustration. We re-assess the car seat configuration again and come up with no table and all of the cushions off, securing the car seats both directly to the benches. This is most likely not approved by seat belt techs, but seriously people. If we get in an accident, don't you think the propane tank under the stove flying across the room and hitting them in the head is going to be more of a problem? Or maybe every single thing in the cabinets becoming a projectile?  Let's face it, if we get in an accident we are all screwed so we will drive safe and let the kids be comfortable. This is badass at our age as parents.

I will say that even though it takes some getting used to, it's quite nice to be able to attend to most of the kids' needs while Mike drives. By the end of day 2 driving I'm good at pouring a bottle of milk from a gallon jug in the back without spilling a drop. It was quite the core workout.

We get into Williams after 5 which is disheartening. We realize the trip is way too many miles and Mike and I talk after dinner about what to cut. Santa Fe gets chopped, too far east. We will head to Moab which is mostly north after the Grand Canyon tomorrow. It's so cold and windy out we can't light our grill or eat outside so we have a "cozy" meal inside with me making BBQ chicken in a pot on the stove top. I guess it doesn't matter much that everyone is up my ass while I'm trying to cook in a small space, because even if they had the whole house back home they would find a way to play under my feet. The set up is less than ideal at this point and I need a drink.

Speaking of me this, Mike reads that alcohol affects altitude sickness and says he isn't going to drink the rest of the trip. I hate drinking alone, but hey, someone has to hold up the camping vacation vibe so I crack open one my mini bottles of Sutter Home "red." Pure class over here.

After the hot first night in the desert, we realize by the next night we need our furnace on. The weather out here is bananas! I really dislike being cold and did not pack correctly. I joke that we should just drive straight to Vegas where it's warmer and camp in a Walmart parking lot for a week. I'm only half kidding. I'm Scarlett O'Hara-ing this and saying tomorrow is another day. I'm not giving up on the trip yet!

The boys enjoy a little movie while mom tries to make dinner. Also Arlo can't get down by himself and is afraid to try, so it's kind of like baby jail...