That time I took a week long vacation with twin 9 week olds, and an older kid too…

I might have lied. They may have started off as 8 week olds.

This story starts when my girls were born. I took the 4th day the hospital doesn’t tell you that your insurance will cover if you have a c-section. It was glorious. One more day of people waiting on me. Seriously, it’s my best new mom advice. Take the magical 4th day. Any way I come home feeling pretty good. I can’t wait to pull in front of my house, which is three hours away from my hospital. My glorious, amazing, cozy, quiet, house is covered in god damn mother fucking roofers. God damn mother fucking roofers who were told I was having TWO babies on a certain day. God damn mother fucking roofers who did NOT call to make sure TODAY was a good day to come over.

So about 8 weeks later they get around to scraping the ceiling. I have family coming a week and a half from the start date. And my birthday two days before that. And I just know they will be working on my birthday still. But that’s another story.  So what do you do with three small children who need to be out of the house for this? Go on a mother fucking vacation of course. Now my husband is a farmer. It’s harvest. I’m doing this alone. That’s cool. I like being alone.

So I call the cheapest hotel with a suite and continental breakfast. I don’t need a suite. I need a recliner so I can nurse. I had the most helpful worker ever who waited for my reservation to show up on the computer, and made sure I had a normal cheap room with a recliner. So we drive, we drive, we drive, we stop and nurse, and drive, and drive. The details of this are about as boring as the car drive.

This recliner was seriously what made the trip not terribly stressful. As we get into town we get fast food. Go to the hotel. I pull out my nursing pillow. The babies relax because we are eating just like home. We go out and ride this trolley through down town. I wore the babies for this. They had no issues with me wearing them. And as usual, who ever was near me, had to ask a million questions and tell me about all the twins they knew.

We did a lot of stuff. And in between every activity we went back to the hotel. Every breakfast was eaten in the room with no stress thanks to the continental breakfast. Every lunch was fast food so the babies could truly rest on me, the fast food was eaten in the recliner on the nursing pillow. And every dinner was some where new. It helped the girls, and it helped not stress me out. This trip was so much fun, and very relaxed. The girls handled it really well, even though they were being carted around constantly. I was good because they were happy. And my son was good because he was getting to rest too.

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The highlights of what we did are these two things; We went on the Gates of the Mountains tour boat ride.  Now… I didn’t do any fucking real research on this. I just knew a tour left every hour, and they had two boats. I didn’t put two and two together that the ride was two hours long until the tour guide said, “and this will be two beautiful hours folks, I hope we see some wild life, get comfy” .. But at least I got what I paid for. And the weather was glorious. This was ride was the first time I ever breast fed the girls in my wrap. I had no idea how to do it. But I learned quick. So I’m standing on the back of a boat, tandem breast feeding the twins in a wrap, and finding osprey and bald eagles that the tour guide is missing. This moment might have been the first time I ever felt like a bad ass.

The other really cool thing we did was Lewis and Clark Caverns State Park. This too was some thing I really didn’t realize the entirety of what I was doing. Now I have been through Wind Cave National Park, and Jacob’s Cave before. So I thought I knew what a cave tour would be like. I was wrong. This beautiful tour started with a very long drive up the mountain. It then, and only then, hit me that I might not be able to do this. When I walked up they asked me if I could bend over with the babies. I held their heads and bent over. They let me go… oh god they let me go. So off we go up the mountain. The entrance wasn’t the first, second, or third pass I thought it was. We made it up the mountain 20 minutes before the rest of the group because they were stopping to read things, and I just went, which was stupid. Oh and there was a rattlesnake by my head, which is how I got ahead of every one. So I went up 1200 feet. And then I went back down it. In a cavern, down stairs, bending over. I even had to sit on my ass and wiggle through a tiny opening. People described this as a slide. There was no fucking sliding. Or maybe I just had so much ass sweat from this hike.   Now, I am happy we did this. I am happy I didn’t have time to back out. But this was probably one of the hardest things I have done in my life. I was shaking the whole time. The glorious guide actually offered to make every one stop so I could nurse. Which was amazing. But I wasn’t willing to, and because there was so much bending I couldn’t just walk and nurse.

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*this is us at the top of the mountain before going into the cave*

We did quite a few other things, but those are the most notable. But let me tell you how the house renovating ended! I had to extend the trip by a day. And I came home to the entire living room covered in tarp. They PROMISED it would be done the next day. So we came home. And stayed up stairs. The next day was my birthday. I drove an hour and a half and got myself a mastiff puppy from the shelter. We came home and my entire living room was still covered in tarp. So my husband, the dog, and my friend sat and drank sangria on the porch after we go the babies to bed.

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