Future Swimsuit Model

We think Amberlee has found her future. What do you think?

Easter Results

Easter just isn't the same as it once was. Ethan and Preston had a good time-- we took them to a park in Seven Fields, hid some eggs, and let them go. Aside from the 20 eggs, the boys also found a baseball, a golf ball, and a dead bird.

Chrissa-- she was another issue altogether. Completely upset at us for something we apparently did, she sat in the car and would not come out to participate. If looks could kill, Michelle and I would have fried. Not sure what sparked it, but nevertheless, she excluded herself in dramatic protest.

So, the boys got to claim their stakes on her eggs, and whatever was inside. Despite a later attempt by our teenager to confiscate what she thought was rightfully her's (and the ruling of Judge Dad to correct this misconception), we had a good time.

See the photo collection-- right side of the page.

10 Years, and Counting

April 23rd marked our 10 year anniversary. Ten years... that is 3,653 days, or 520 weeks, or 87,660 hours, or 5,259,600 minutes, or 315.5 million seconds. Whichever way you look at it, it is a long time.

What has happened in the past 10 years?

1. We moved 6 times-- from Clearfield, Utah to Pocatello, Idaho; from Pocatello, Idaho to Iona, Idaho; from Iona, Idaho to Ammon, Idaho; from Ammon, Idaho to Ammon, Idaho (around the corner); from Ammon, Idaho to Ammon, Idaho again (around the corner one more time); and finally, from Ammon, Idaho to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania;

2. Our family went from a size of 3 to 6;

3. We earned a collective 3 college degrees, the cost of which should demand buildings, campuses, sidewalks, streets, or something to be named after us for our contributions;

4. We gained a collective 50 lbs (not telling who gained the bigger portion, but as you can see, there is a direct correlation with #2 above);

5. Our salary has increased by a factor of 3, but I don't believe we actually have any more money to spend now than we did 10 years ago....;

6. We have owned a total of 7 cars-- perhaps related to #5 above;

7. We have gone on a total of 5 family trips (each one being sworn as our "last") and 4 additional trips without kids (what we think heaven will be like);

8. Been in 48,497 disagreements (but who is counting??);

9. Collectively lost 10% of our hair mass, and watched as 5% of the remaining mass of hair has turned gray (again, not telling who holds the lion's share of this one);

10. And, managed to keep smiling after all of this.

In lieu of the wedding gift ideas noted in a prior blog entry, we have decided to keep it simple. At 6PM tonight, Michelle and I are going to Pittsburgh to eat at Le Monte-- a 4 diamond restaurant (http://www.lemontpittsburgh.com/LeMont/index.htm), complete with dress code and valet parking. The funny part will be watching Michelle order her food, which I'm certain will contain at least 8 questions and 4 special preparation requests.

Stay tuned for the results...

**UPDATE**

We never made it to Le Mont. We were getting ready to go, and I was searching the internet for their address. As I was looking, I came across several "restaurant review" sites-- and ALL of them had some pretty negative reviews. So we chickened out. Instead, we found a local place to eat at.

Seriously-- if a meal is going to cost $70 plus tip, there should be NO negative remarks, right? I'll be we got more food-- better, too-- and saved $50.

Michelle won the debate, too. She opted for the fillet-- it is true. And (prepare yourself for this) she got it medium-well done. Usually it is well done, as in "next to charcoal" cooked. I got the prime rib... and crow.

"I Want My Two Dollars!!"

To our utter amazement, we learned that Chrissa's school had a "fundraising" event for the American Heart Association last week. The "fundraiser" was simply asking the students to bring $2 to school to help support and educate obese kids. My thoughts-- cut back on the Twinkies.

I've always been very leary of these offers. I'm certain that of the $2, $1.75 is going into someone's pocket for helping out. Some kid or teacher there made a killing that week.

Anyway, gym class comes around the day of collection. The teacher promptly sits the kids in the middle of the gym and asks for those that have their $2 to stand and deliver. Then, he asks those who promise to pay $2 to also stand. This left Chrissa and handful of other 7th graders still sitting.

The punishment for non-payers: they had to leave to another gym--a smaller gym-- to do something else. The payers got to play dodge ball.

Isn't public education wonderful? Aside from the outrageous taxes we pay here for local schools, we also need to send them with loose cash for miscellaneous "fundraisers" just so our kid can participate in class.

Hardly. My first order of business was to raise a stink with the principal, which I did and am still doing. If I don't get any satisfaction, my next order of business is public announcement. I'm serious. Segregation ended long ago, and while we as a country might be headed towards socialism, it ain't about to start with my kid.

For any of you that reflect upon (and can still admit to watch) all those great movies from the '80s, perhaps this photo will remind you of one-- and what can happen when $2 comes between people.

Take Your Kid To Work Day (If you dare)...

I did it. For weeks, my work had been announcing their "Take Your Kid To Work Day" program, so I finally broke down and asked Chrissa if she wanted to go-- all the while doing my best to downplay anything that might be perceived as "fun". Didn't work. She wanted to go.

Today was the day. It started out well (note the dripping sarcasm in that phrase)... my repeated declarations that "we need to leave by 7:15 or we'll be late!!" went unanswered. Chrissa was still partially dressed with wet hair at that minute, so we did not get on the road till 7:30. We could have easily sold tickets this morning as a freak show with all the commotion and turmoil going on just trying to get out the door.

She spent the first few hours doing Westinghouse stuff with all the other kids. Muffins, fruit, juices, bagels, and a thousand other thing were laid out for them to devour.

Then, it all ended at 11:30AM. I had to pick her up and she got to formally "shadow" me for the rest of the day.

So, we dragged our feet till noon-- the time our group had a luncheon ready for us to, again, devour. She did.

Then, I took her on the tour-- went to see the gym, the "stress room" complete with Wii entertainment and pool tables and TVs and foosball. Then I took her around to meet the troops. I was certain the day was nearly over by then-- and then I looked at my watch. Only 1PM.

So, back to my little cubicle. I tried to show her what I do, but got the glossy-eyed look. We went through the Cliff Notes version of nuclear power production. I know-- she should have slid off her chair with enthusiasm! After a few business calls, I turned her into my personal secretary and made her type as I dictated to her. This seemed to pass the time alright, except a review of the typist's papers shows that more words were underlined (i.e., misspelled) than not.

Anyway, it is now over. We survived. I could see the look on other employee's faces as they were leaving work with kids in tow-- it was the look that said, "Wow, it is finally over."

I treated her well... aside from the smorgasbord of garbage she got to eat, she also got a run of the mill for sodas, and I bought her a big piece of strawberry shortcake. I got a handful of aspirins to help clear the headache. Seemed like a fair trade.

Cade, I Have An Offer You Can't Refuse...

So said my boss this morning as he stuck his head in my office.

Translation: "Cade, I have an offer that you won't refuse... and really, you don't even have an option."

A thousand things goes through one's head as he follows his boss back to his office to see what this new assignment might be. To me, this is like changing a diaper. You don't want to see what's inside, but what choice do you have?

Boss: "Cade, I need you in Chicago on Monday for 5 weeks."

I probably looked something like this:

I waited for the punch line. Or him to see my bewildered look and, out of concern or sympathy, say, "Never mind". Or, for me to have a heart attack.

Cade: "Uh, okay..."

Boss: "I'm really not sure what it is you will be doing-- all I know is that it is due on June 1st."

Perhaps in my state of shock, I missed a key piece of information. Maybe I blanked out that last 30 seconds. But, I knew something was missing.

Cade: "Uh, okay..."

Boss: "Talk it over with your wife, and let me know tomorrow."

Cade: "Uh, okay..."

And, just like that, my day was shot. Nothing like getting an assignment like this without any warning, without any direction, and without any reason. I guess these "offers you can't refuse" are getting better, though. The last "offer" was 3 months in Sweden.

As with all things like this, news will spawn discussion, which will spawn questions, which will spawn confusion. You get enough engineers in the same room with this kind of circular logic and I think you have the ingredients for another episode of "The Twilight Zone".

I then went to Boss #2 to let him know of the news. He, of course, knew about it, but had no idea that it would require me to be gone for 5 weeks. Now, the assignment is in deliberation, and who knows what will come of it.

So I decided to go to the cafeteria, buy a soda, and look out the window. Then, I went home.

Tea Time

Pittsburgh had its own version of the latest Tea Party.

I would have gone, but I was at work... someone's got to pay for those that don't, eh?

Anyway, I did not see any tea being thrown into the Allegheny, Monongahela, or Ohio Rivers. Too bad. Overall, I hear it was peaceful. No burning cars, no people being shot, no riots or tear gas. I was half hoping something would happen. After all, once the Steelers won the Super Bowl, downtown Pitt was a riot zone. I had been prepared for anything, based on what I've seen and heard since arriving in PA, and was sadly disappointed when no one ended up floating down the river, no cars being overturned, no pillaging or plundering.

To help in the future, I propose "Tea Party" be changed to something a little more modern and incitable.

I'm A Poor Scout

I went on my first scout trip. It was a camp-out, but I did not go camping. My camping gear is still lost somewhere in our garage disaster. So, I went up the morning after. The scouts camped nearby-- about 15 minutes away-- and wanted to go on a hike afterwards. I took Ethan along.

I wished I had taken camera. The place (McConnell's Mill) was amazing. It is a state park, and reminded me a lot of the Henry's Fork of the Snake River. The trail led down into a canyon with a fast river in the bottom. It was opening day for trout fishing here, so on every rock was some fisherman. No kidding... it looked like the fishermen outnumberd the fish by 10 to 1. Anyway, there were several waterfalls coming down the canyon into the river. Rocks were all moss covered. It really was neat.

But, in my endless grace, I misstepped and twisted my ankle. I tried not to show it, and I'm pretty sure no one saw. I must have stepped on a rock hidden underneath the leaves or something. Nearly fell over on Ethan, but managed to stay upright. I made it back to the truck-- actually, it really didn't hurt till later that night. I did spend the night at home with my ankle wrapped in ice, though. Some scout, eh? Luckily, I was probably within a mile of the truck.

So, in place of a camera, you'll just have to be happy with these photos found on the internet.

Family Photo Result

For those that read our previous posting about our family photo adventure, here is the result.

They turned out well. Of course, "Victor" (AKA "Michelle") will now do her Photoshop editing work, which means digitally switching heads, changing eyes, coloring hair, putting in better smiles, etc. For those that don't know who Victor is, he was the scientist that created this guy (which, by the way, looks strangely like me in the mornings):

She does have a natural ability to switch body parts around, ya know.

I'm not sure how I feel about it. On the one hand, she did make me look better in our last family photos. I lost 10 lbs, had a fuller head of hair, and had a wider smile and whiter teeth. But on the other, she is so good with Photoshop that I wonder what the point is in even going to get photos done anymore. Just find a background off the internet, clip out the best parts of all of us, piece us all together on the background, and be done! I'll bet I aged 5 years in that hour it took to get these kids to all look in the same direction at the same time with some half-attempted smile. And, as you can see, we gave up on it and took the photos with them looking in other directions. Thirty photos later, we were able to weed it down to 5 or 6.

Anniversary Gift Ideas

In about 10 days, Michelle and I will have been married 10 years.

If any of you out there remember that day, you'll also remember the wind storm that whipped through the area the night before; the overturned trucks on the freeway; no electricity the morning of; the rent-a-photographer we hired to take our photos-- with a broken camera-- and maybe other stories.

But, with 10 years nearly upon us, I realized that I need to be thinking of an anniversary gift.

Perhaps it was due to my Burley Idaho education, but I did not realize that there is actually a "traditional anniversary gift" list-- things that you are supposed to buy for your spouse depending on your years of marriage.

I think the idea is to encourage marriage... if you look at the list, you see that the gift ideas get progressively better as you get further along in your marriage.

For example, year #1 anniversary is "paper"... I supposed that is to mean that you buy something or make something focused around paper. My limited imagination only points to an anniversary card. Maybe "movie passes".

Year #3: leather. Well, I'll leave this one alone.

Year #5: wood. Maybe a nice canoe, or a set of drumsticks. I have seen some nice salad bowls made of wood.

Year #7: copper. This gets a bit tougher. The only copper I'm aware of is that inside electrical cable. Not sure this would "fly", but better then a handful of pennies, I would think.

Year #9: pottery. Much easier. With pottery, it seems the uglier, the better. This is where you can dig out that old high school pottery project and present it as a gift of nostalgia.

Year #10-- and the one I'm focused on: tin or aluminum. Tin is harder to come across, so I'll take the aluminum option. Pop cans, siding, a bike.

This is not going to be easy. I did an internet search for "10 year anniversary aluminum", and I found the following ideas.

1. A personalized address plaque. We don't have a house, so this seems the wrong gift.








2. A meat-marking branding iron. Michelle is not the carnivore like I am, so this would be a gift that only I would relish. But, I think it would be awesome to serve steaks at a party with the phrase, "The steak brought to you by Cade and Michelle-- happily married for 10 years!".








3. A sun dial. Only problem is that-- first-- we dont have a yard yet, and second, Pittsburgh is the second most rainy city in the US.








4. A large tin crowing rooster. Maybe this would work...









5. Aluminum monogrammed golf ball markers. A great idea, but Michelle would have to learn golfing-- and for those of you that know my history, golfing and I have not always gotten along...







6. Recycled aluminum wire purse. I think Michelle would look very "GQ" in something like this, eh?

So, as you can see, I'm in a bit of a dilemma. Suggestions, anyone?? If this isn't done right, I might not get to Year #11: steel. And then, I wont have the opportunity to buy Michelle a steel personalized pocket compass....

Ape Arms

I've been the victim of height discrimination. I wish I knew who the proper authorities are so I could report this to the Department of "whatever".

A few weeks ago, I signed up at Westinghouse's Wellness Center-- an indoor gym in the basement of the company building. Time to get my blood pumping and lose some weight.

First, my physical assessment. I knew this would be bad. Push ups, pull ups, sit ups. I had to stretch (yeah, right... I dont even think I moved the little stretch indicator), get measured, etc. I nearly convinced myself to fake an injury to get out of it.

Second, a "tour" of the place. I was given a work-out chart and instructions on what to use, when to use them, how often, etc.

One machine was a chin-up machine. I HATE chin ups, mainly because my arms are so long. This machine, however, has a built-in spotter, so I don't have to lift my complete weight. Nevertheless, as I dangle, my feet touch the floor. As I pull myself up, my head nearly goes through the suspended ceiling.

When I worked construction many years ago, my nickname was "Ape Arms" because I could stand flat footed and nearly grab ahold of the ceiling joists. My arms (at last measure) are 35" from tip to pit, meaning I have to pull myself up nearly 3 feet in order to do a chin-up. And, I stand at 75". Other guys have shorter arms, which makes their chin-ups much easier.

Its embarrassing. I dangle like a dead fish, all stretched out, trying to pull myself up without going through the ceiling. I think its time for long-armed people to stand together.

Michelle v Julia

This was a very hard blog to name, as there were 2 extraordinary events that happened.

First, it was Preston's birthday. Our little man turned 3! It is hard to believe. However, just minutes before the bash, Preston turned into a turd. Without warning, he walked over the drawer, pulled out a kid's art kit, and decided to spread the items around. I told him to pick it up. He said "no". I knew a battle of whits was about to ensue. In 3 years, the battle of whits winners has gone back and forth, but has more-or-less settled on one person. Before today, I think the score was something like this-- Cade: 7, Preston: 381. I was due for a win.

As the crisis escalated, the consequences went from not having any birthday cake, to not having any presents, to not having a birthday party at all, to not having any more birthdays for the rest of his life. Still, the little hard-nosed, strong-willed 3 year old just shrugged them off-- no big deal.

Next, I physically grabbed his hands and tried to force them on the crayons. He resisted, then cried. Even putting a crayon in his hands was unsuccessful. I knew the crying was his way of weaking my position, but I held strong.

Next, I took him to his room. Crying became louder, but his will was too strong to give up. I almost cracked-- almost. But I felt like a prison escapee that was nearly free-- I had to keep going before the guards realized I was missing.

Finally, I told him that he needed to stand in the corner till he was ready. This did it. After 10 minutes, his will was broken, and I became the victor. He went from a stubborn mule to my best friend in a flash.

The birthday party was saved. I had clearly won.

This was miracle #1.

On to miracle #2. For years, we have tried to make his birthday cake (and other's in the fam). They were always quite sad... one even had gray frosting. From time to time, we gave up and went to get one at Fred Meyer.

This year, however, Michelle pulled out all the stops. And, WOW, what a creation! Preston is on a Mickey Mouse kick, so Michelle thought a Mickey Mouse cake would be fun. My first impression was that Mickey Mouse might not look so good with gray ears. But, she persisted and described how she was going to do it. OK. Sounded good.

In the course of a day, while I was at work, she created (with the help of a neighbor friend) a masterpiece that even Julia Child would covet. A Mickey Mouse cake to beat all Mickey Mouse cakes! A 4 layer chocolate and white cake slice of heaven with butter cream frosting and a chocolate ganache. Not only were we COMPLETELY inspired, but afraid to destroy it in order to eat it.

Oh, what a cake!

The Clampetts Go To Washington

"These are the times that try men's souls…", so said Thomas Paine in 1775. He must have been referring to family vacations. After a 3 year or so hiatus, the Jensens were going back to the nation's capitol. Democracy would hang in the balance.

This past Friday, we gathered up the kids and some of our belongings and left for a weekend in Washington DC. I really wanted to see the cherry blossoms, but knew in the back of my mind that a family trip of this magnitude (short duration, but full of possible catastrophic opportunities) would certainly try my soul-- and try Michelle's, too. It was supposed to be a 4 hour drive from Pittsburgh, but ended up taking us about 6 as a result of lunch breaks, potty breaks, and so on. Luggage consisted of 3 suitcases, one diaper bag, one toiletries bag, one snack bag, one "Chrissa's bag with who knows what inside that weighs 100 lbs" bag, 2 gallons of milk, a loaf of bread, our camcorder and camera bag, 2 strollers, a bag holding Michelle's bed pillow, Michelle's purse, shoes/jackets/umbrellas, the portable TV with a stack of DVDs to watch in the car, my work bag with laptop and Blackberry inside, toys, drinks… oh yeah, and 4 kids, 3 of which in car seats. Had it not been for the minivan, we would have looked like the Clampetts on our way to Beverly Hills.

The Pennsylvania and Maryland countryside is absolutely beautiful, I must say. Everything was in full bloom, and even the wheat fields, which are all green now, were more fluorescent than I had ever seen.

As if on cue, the boys started fighting nearly the moment I put the van in reverse to leave our home Friday morning. They didn't stop till we got home Sunday night.

Also, as if on cue, our teenager's drama-meter began rising the moment we left the house, and peaked later that night when she realized that "mom forgot to pack my pajamas". Poor Michelle. She had gone through all the turmoil of packing all of the things mentioned above and, having forgotten to pack one pair of pajamas, was ready to be dragged down King Street in Old Alexandria Virginia (the location of our hotel room) to be tarred and feathered by our teen at the town square. It was about 2 hours of high-intensity drama, played out by Chrissa by not speaking, looking at anyone, or moving-- an effort to show real disgust at Michelle's apparent lack of planning. I'm sure the drama would have put the Continental Congress to shame.

However, prior to this event, we made our first stop Friday afternoon at Mount Vernon, home of George Washington. None of us had been there before. I thought it was amazing… Michelle loved it, too. Chrissa was ambivalent. The boys couldn't have cared less. And Amberlee just laid in her stroller and cooed. I closed my eyes and threw my credit card at the ticket lady… the cost was $15 per adult (Chrissa was considered an adult, playing much to the ego of a teenager), and something around $7 per kid (luckily Preston and Ambers were free), so the total cost just to walk in was over $50. We toured the mansion-- amazing-- and the plantation, saw all the relics (GWs chariot, saddles, belongings, etc etc), went to his dock on the Potomac, and saw his burial vault where he and Mrs. Washington lay. Of course, when you walk into these kinds of memorials, the caretakers ask you to be quiet and reverent as a sign of respect, which are two words that have no meaning for our family. As I tried to get photos of the family standing next to the Washington's vault, Preston was adamantly opposed to it, telling me "no" and "I don't want to" in front of waiting Washington mourners. I feared I would be turned into the Secret Service or something for having a kid that so openly mocked the founder of our country.

We then toured the Washington historical and education center, located on the plantation, to learn about GW and his contributions to our nation. Again, Michelle and I were amazed. Chrissa's interest kind of rose-- not too much. Boys still rowdy. The center had done a fantastic job describing his life and contributions to the world, what he looked like, his character, and so forth. This, however, was the location of the first diaper blow-out. Preston graced the plantation and the education center with a leaking diaper. And his bull-legged walk as we made our way to the bathroom was a dead give-away. Again, I feared the Secret Service… here we have a kid that shows outright contempt with Washington and twiddles down his legs and onto the plantation grounds and Washington education center. I'm not so sure that even those held at the Guantanamo detention center would have had the guts to be so bold.

We then went to our hotel in Alexandria. It’s a great place and, as usual, Michelle found it for a killer deal. We bought a weekend from a timeshare owner at the resort. This is when the teen drama ensued. We got pizza from a local Papa John's for dinner, and stopped to get more milk and cereal for the night and next morning.

We got up around 9 and, after readying ourselves, took off for the metro to take us into DC. The boys were very excited to ride the train, but that soon left when they got in and realized they had to sit down for the 20 minute ride. We were dumped out at the Smithsonian station and, after coming to the surface of the National Mall, were SHOCKED AND AWED at the number of people. Of course, thanks to me, I chose the busiest week in Washington DC in any given year-- National Cherry Blossom Festival. I wanted to see it. News reports from the days before we left estimated 1 million people on the National Mall that weekend. I believed it after seeing all the people. They were everywhere. The weather would have been great, too, had it not been for the 30 mph wind. And, Washington DC decided to hold a Cherry Blossom Festival Parade, which further crowded Constitution Avenue.

We were blown first to the Natural History Museum, thinking that the boys would dig the dinosaurs there. They did-- for about 5 minutes. We were done with that museum after about an hour. Off we went to the American Indian museum-- only for the purpose of lunch, which was referred to us by friends back in PA. Michelle and I shared a Navajo taco-- about medium sized which cost ONLY $11. The kids shared a chicken finger/french fry meal which cost nearly $8. Our lunch table was a scene of fighting boys, a crying baby (she was hungry), and a table of dirty napkins and half-eaten food. Michelle and I didn't know if we should leave to spare the other people, or to wait because we were so tired already. We decided to go. The Clampetts next stop: the Air and Space Museum.

Our walk to the museum was the location of blow-out #2, this one by Amberlee. In a crowd of a million people, however, there is not a quiet place to change a baby, not to mention feed her. So, we found a place on the side of the museum, up next to the building and off the sidewalk, to do it all. She got changed and began to eat when Preston creamed his diaper again. Michelle proceeds to change him. Once he was done, and Amberlee was done eating, Amberlee decided to cream her's again. All I could do was stand watch like a male goose trying to protect his family, then carry the dirty diapers down the sidewalk to a trash can.

Three diapers were changed there. Three little moons were shown to the millions walking up and down the sidewalk as we tried to get things under control.

We finally made it to the museum. Here, Preston was awed. He loves airplanes, and he got to see all the Apollo rockets, jumbo jets hanging from the ceiling, historical airplanes, WWI and WWII planes, helicopters, etc etc. He just loved it. Ethan showed some interest, especially in the space sections where he got to go inside some of the rockets and see moon rocks and things. Chrissa showed a bit more interest here, too.

After the Air and Space, we crossed the Mall and went to the American History museum-- my personal favorite. Michelle loves it, too. Kids were so-so. But, the basement was full of old cars and trains and interactive things that the kids liked. But, my favorite was Old Glory, the exhibit of which had been completely re-done since we were there last. You get to learn all about the flag, see relics of the War of 1812, etc etc, and then you get to see the original flag. It is now lying in a huge darkened theater (used to be hung as you walked into the museum) where you can walk pass and see it. Just very amazing. I tried to get Chrissa interested in it, but had to rethink my strategy when I told her that this flag is the original flag that inspired the National Anthem, after which she asked me what the national anthem was. I even sang the first verse, and all I got in return was a confused look. Public education at its finest!

Back to Alexandria we began. But, without realizing it at first, we soon noticed a HUGE line of people waiting to get into the Metro station. Yes, it was about 6PM, and the millions were on their way home, too. The entire Metro platform was wall-to-wall people, and the line continued up the stairs, out the ticketing platform, up the escalators, and out onto the Mall. Holy cow. It took us a good half-hour just to get to the train platform, but this only happened because we had strollers that allows us to bypass most people (thank you, police). Personally, I think they caught Preston's and Ethan's act of defiance at Mount Vernon, the diaper-changing debacle near the museum, and the screaming/fighting in the Indian museum on camera, and decided the best thing to do for our family was to get us out of DC as fast as they could.

Ethan really wanted to see the Lincoln Memorial and take the ride to the top of the Washington Monument, but as we arrived Sunday morning, we realized the volume of people was even larger than it was the day before. We quickly changed our mind and headed north to Gettysburg instead.

Here is where it got even more embarrassing. We went into the museum they have there, which
is a brand new place-- very big and well laid-out. Got to see all sorts of Gettysburg relics, films, etc. After roughly 2 hours, we left and went to the National Cemetery where Lincoln gave his Address. Again, as you walk into the cemetery, you are told to be quiet and respectful-- two words that must have opposite meaning for children under 15. With all the space and grass to run around, it was too big of a temptation, and off the boys ran. You cannot yell at them to stop-- you would be breaking the rules. We tried our best to contain them without fanning the flames, and as we walked past the site of the Address, we thought it would be a great photo opportunity. We called for the boys (and to our surprise they came running), and then Ethan tripped on the sidewalk and scraped his wrist all up. It wasn't bad-- didn't even bleed-- but he proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs as if he had been gut shot by a Confederate. Down he went, rolling on the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs. So much for the quiet and respectful rule. Good thing there wasn't many people there, but we were embarrassed anyway. Ethan then said as loud as he could, "I hate this place!" I only hope that the people that were there realize this was the antics of a 6 year old, and not a family value that we teach to our kids.

Anyway, after about an hour of trying to peel Preston off the tops of headstones and calm Ethan down, we managed to get back to the car and begin our drive home. Our trusty GPS, though, led us on a wild goose chase as it decided to pick perhaps the windiest, hilliest route back to the turnpike. About 60 miles of up and down and hairpin turns… we had never been so happy to see the toll roads as we were that night.

We rolled into the house a bit passed 11PM. Exhausted, we hit the sack hoping that our kids had some fun things about the trip that they will remember. As for Michelle and I, the best part of the trip was being back home.

Till next trip…