Penis Envy

When I announced that I was going to go up to the beach, a five and half hour drive with the boys... leaving Jorma at home for his own mini vacation from us all, I questioned my own sanity. I mean, what woman in her right mind would drive that far- alone with an almost 4 and almost 2 year old. Was I mad?
I guess mad isn't the word, but more desperate. I was desperate to give the boys a little more of the Summer to run and swim and play before the start of pre-school. I was equally desperate to have a little peace of mind myself. The trips to the beach are never easy, in fact it's pretty much the same amount (if not more) work than it is when we are home, but the boys are busy the entire time which means they aren't fighting with each other... or me. I like that.
The trip up could have gone either way. It could have been a five and a half hour slice of hell, or it could have been just fine and guess what? It was just fine. The boys snacked the first hour, slept for the next two and watched a movie for the two after that. They were perfect. No fighting, no yelling and even no whining.
We only stopped once and it was about 20 minutes from the beach house. The only reason that we stopped then was because I desperately needed a cuppa coffee to push me through for the rest of the evening. We pulled through a coffeeNdonut shop where I got the largest iced coffee imaginable and then pulled over so that I could give the boys the sippy cups, toys and blankets that they had tossed on the floor during the drive. Once I got them situated and put another movie in, I buckled myself back into the car, threw it into reverse and heard Connor say, "Mommy, I need to go to the bathroom".
Now Connor likes to see a bathroom, any bathroom. If we are in a new store the first thing he wants to do is go to the bathroom. He's likes playing in the different soaps and trying to work the different faucets... and the paper towel dispensers that are motion activated, well, to him those are a 1.5 foot piece of Disney. My point is that often it's difficult to tell if he really NEEDS to go, or merely wants to go investigate the soap dispenser. And we are only 20 minutes away from our destination.
"Can you hold it", I ask. It's not that I mind taking him in, but taking him AND little brother in... but, since Tristan is getting a little to large to be held it's sometimes, challenging.
"No", he says, "I can't"
"Are you sure?", I ask hopefully.
"I'm just going to hop out and pee in the parking lot" he says matter of factly. (As if he can get out of his seatbelt by himself)
"ok", I say, "we'll go in". But as I'm turning off the car and dreading the extra 30 minutes that I've just added to the trip, I spy a juice bottle on the floorboard of the car. A light bulb goes off.
"Do you think you can pee in the juice bottle?", I ask him. He nods.
I unscrew the cap and reach around, unhooking his seat belt. In a flash his pants are down and he's peeing into the bottle, like he's a professional truck driver. It's a victory. No going inside of the coffee shop. No unbuckling little brother or fighting about why we can't have another donut on the way out of the coffee shop. I feel free.
Do you know what this means? It means that we've just simplified the road trip. We can travel! Cross country! To the Grand Canyon! Without having to stop every hour to pee!
How awesome is that? Cal-a-forn-ia here we come!