Car trips, Cows and Craziness

Please excuse my absenteeism, I have spent the last few days getting ready for a trip to visit my family.

We left yesterday morning, just Isaiah, Caleb and I, on an eight hour car drive through Eastern Oregon. A car drive that consists of nearly 250 miles of sagebrush and rolling hills that seem to go on, and on, and on. But luckily there are cows, lots of cows, to break up the monotony. So of course, after dealing with five hours of "are we there yet", and "I'm hungry", I can't help but seize the opportunity for another type of conversation.

As I stopped the car just two feet from a very large cow, and rolled down my window, the boys nervously said, "what are you doing mom?" And then, with a deep gutteral sound, I said, MOOOO.

The cow just stared at me with a dumb look, then it blinked and continued to chew it's cud. And as I turned toward the back seat, I noticed that the boys were doing the exact same thing (minus chewing the cud part). And suddenly I was very aware that it was just me on the road. Me, two boys and a whole lot of cattle.

Speaking of boys, it seems that mine have bladders the size of peanuts, and voices that can rival a bull horn. Neither of which, I realized, are good on road trips. We stopped numerous times to go to the bathroom, which, let me tell you, is no easy task when you can only hide behind sagebrush. And just for clarification here, I am talking solely about myself. The boys were blessed with appendages that make urinating outside much more doable, and therefore, do not understand the awkward situation I found myself in several times yesterday.

It's okay though, because clearly I had already gone mad. Not only was I seeking conversation with cows, but I also stooped low enough to threaten to leave my children, the children that the good Lord blessed me with, standing on the side of the road in the middle of nowhereville.

To be honest, I'm not sure if my threats are what caused them to be quiet, or if it was because my face turned red and the veins popped out of my neck as I screamed at them to quit screaming. Either way, it worked, and my sanity returned. And nine hours after leaving Boise, we pulled into my moms driveway, smiling as though I hadn't really gone crazy, or tried talking to a cow, or hid behind sagebrush.

And now that we are here, I'm hoping that maybe, just maybe, I will have a chance to write a few posts while here..that is, if I don't go mad first.