Some like it hot.

we concluded our lovely visit in california with a grand finale of a migraine and a nasty case of poison ivy. I am noticing a trend in my life lately: whenever I start feeling like things are going well, things start go, ummm... less well.

I have to attribute this to my deep and unresolved pride issue, because every time I say how "my kids get along sooo great" they suddenly fall apart in front of whomever I just praised them. Just when I proudly say out loud how "harper has been potty-trained for so long" he starts habitually drilling into his handy manny underpants like he's getting commission for it. As soon as I say "this trip is going so smoothly" I wake up with a migraine and tom looks like a burn victim where the poison ivy is slowly "melting his skin." (His words.)

So, given the migraine (and his ever-faithful companion: nausea) I was pretty useless yesterday morning, so tom had to pack everything up by himself, which is a big job, especially for an almost-amputee. Needless to say, we got a late start.

We did our usual unnecessarily long (and out of our way) drive in order to hit nevada, then into prescott, az. (Pronounced like biscuit, as in "prescotts 'n gravy.") What saved us (and our delayed, migrained, poisoned, deformed selves) was a phone call to my in-laws updating them on our location and schedule. They (randomly) have friends in prescott, who also happen to conveniently be THE nicest people on the planet. They also happen to be willing hosts. with a basement. and pie. They are the best.

So, instead of driving through the desert at 10:30pm trying to find a flat, safe and rattlesnake-free campsite in the dark, we ate pie with mark and shelly baker. We were so blessed to be able to stay with them, and without much notice.

I know that God's hand has been over us. I know that he is the one that is keeping us safe, sparing us from all sorts of potential disasters. And I know that he mustn't be loving any pride I have, because god seems eager to humble me at first sight of it.

So, we just got into grand canyon national park. It is really more vast and beautiful than I could even attempt to describe, let alone capture in a photograph. But no sooner than I was thinking "we've done it! We've arrived! Nobody thought we could make it this far with this many kids... But here we are, at the GRAND CANYON!" Harper completely fell apart. He pottied in his undies, cried and fussed. So tom took the girls to view the gorgeous canyon, while harper and I sit in the van. We both lost the privilege. He, for throwing a fit. And I, for good old fashioned pride.

So, we are nearing the end of the trip and while I have loved almost every minute... I won't bother saying how brilliant things are going. Because just as soon as I do that, I will slip while we are hiking and will get propelled off the highest cliff at the grand canyon, being humbled by my imminent death.