I Love Them the Most When They're Sleeping. Imagine a Mom. A Mom with a deep crease in her forehead and saggy boobs. You know. A Regular Mom. Imagine that Regular Mom has a husband and four sons. The poor girl is substantially outnumbered. No wonder that crease is so deep.

So many boys. So little meaningful conversation. That Regular Mom with the deep crease and the saggy boobs longs to get the lowdown from her boys after school every day.

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How was that brownie I put in your lunch? Who did you sit with? Were your friends kind to you?

Did you laugh today? What made you laugh? But pfffft. Those boys of hers aren’t wired for chit chat. They come home from school, dump their bags precariously in the entryway where Regular Mom will trip on them, load their pockets with cheeseballs and head straight for the trampoline to beat the piss out of one another.

So Regular Mom…that saint of a woman…heads into the kitchen to prepare seventeen different dishes that will be consumed by five males in the span of three minutes. She turns on Howard Stern–at least he’ll talk to her–and hopes that tonight’s dinner conversation does not include any sound, smell, or mention of flatulence. Just this once. Regular Mom has a tough pill to swallow every March. Her kids have THE LONGEST SPRING BREAK EVER.

Eleven days off from school. In a row. And that includes the weekends because oh yes they do so fucking count.

Many months ago, she researched what it would cost to fly that sizable family out to Arizona to visit her sister for a portion of that eleven day nut punch. A quick Google search showed that it costs too many American dollars to put six winter- weary butts on a plane headed West in the month of March.

Regular Mom’s parents don’t like shoveling snow, so they spend the cold winter months in Florida. Regular Mom did a quick Google search on the price of flights to Florida, and it turns out it costs too many American dollars to fly six people there in March too.“Son of a motherless goat,” she said, “I’ll be a monkey’s uncle before I do another eleven day staycation with crowd.”Her offspring wouldn’t know a dinner conversation that didn’t include the word “fart” if it came up and bit them on their gassy little asses, but Regular Mom still wanted to connect with each and every one of her sons. So she Googled the often- talked- about- but- never- before- visited Great Wolf Lodge. Indoor Water Park Extravaganza.

Here is what she learned. It costs $5. 00 to: frolic about in an indoor water park in ankle deep water that is arguably 5.

So she said to her husband, “WHAT KIND OF A RACKET IS THIS?”But Regular Mom’s husband said, “Think of our third son. That boy loves being in the water more than anything. Picture the look of excitement on his face when we tell him we’re going.

It’s well worth the price of admission merely to see the happiness in his eyes.”And Regular Mom thought her husband made a good point. Boy #3 is a patient soul with an infectious smile and a pure heart. So she confirmed the overnight arrangements with the vision of her elated third born son’s face in her mind’s eye. And a twitch in her actual eye from the exorbitant price of admission. Regular Mom bought several pairs of new goggles on the sly.

She crept up the stairs into the frigid, dark attic–a space not fit for a full grown adult which forces her to navigate all the clothing bins on her knees–to locate and launder the bathing suits. She packed the overnight bags surreptitiously. So great was her anticipation of her third son’s excitement, that she smiled and chuckled aloud as she prepared for their surprise overnight trip. And when the time came to share the news with their four sons of the trip to the often- talked- about- but- never- before- visited Great Wolf Lodge, Regular Mom and her husband assembled the children at the table.“Please guess where we are taking you.”“Lolly and Poppy’s New Jersey beach house.”“No.”“Lolly and Poppy’s Florida beach house.”“No.”“Arizona.”“No.”“Why not Arizona? I want to go to Arizona.

You said we would go to Arizona one day.”“Stop complaining. Keep guessing.”“The Oreland Swim Club.”“No, but close.”“I don’t have any more guesses.…This is a stupid game.…Can’t you just tell us already?…Can I watch a show?”“OK, boys, Dad and I are taking you to…”Regular Mom looked at her husband, and he reached out and squeezed her hand. They smiled because a moment like this–when you make an announcement that elicits pure joy in the people you love so fiercely and completely–this is what makes all of the sleepless nights and the backtalk and the bad pre- teen Disney shows and the vomiting on fresh sheets at 2. AM worth it. This is the moment.“We are taking you to……GREAT!

WOLF! LODGE!!!!”Regular Mom craned her neck around her youngest son and looked expectantly at her third son, the sweetheart of the bunch, the boy whose smile warms her all the way to her toes.“What?” he stammered, “WHAT?!”“Yes!” Regular Mom nodded and clapped. Great Wolf Lodge! Watch Truth Or Dare Putlocker#. The indoor water park! What do you think?!”And her third son yelled, “I’M NOT GOING IN THE WATER! AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” And then he covered his crestfallen face with his hands, laid his head on the table, and proceeded to cry. Hysterically. Not the happy tears.

Regular Mom looked at her husband, and he looked back at her. And there was no need to speak. Because they were both thinking the same thing. This, unfortunately, is what parenting is about. Parenting is thinking you’ve got it so perfectly right…only to discover you couldn’t have been more wrong. Parenting is the illusion of a whole lotta YES…and the reality of OH, HELL NO.

Not just one NO. A series of NO’s. NO’s that get progressively louder and borderline violent. Welcome to parenthood!

Jump in, the water’s great! We’re swimming in somebody else’s pee, but honestly.

It couldn’t be better. Embrace the unpredictability! They dried the tears of their third born son, hurried the children into the car just as the snow began falling, and drove North towards their destination. What should have been a ninety minute drive became ninety minute drive + sixty additional tense minutes. Because four kids. They checked into the hotel. Donned their bathing suits.

Scarfed down Uncrustables. Distributed goggles.

And down to the water park the six of them schlepped. When they were finally together as a family in the pool–before the lifeguard whistled at the oldest son for pulling the second born under water, and before the other lifeguard whistled at the youngest for taking a running leap into the pool and cannon- balling his tiny muscular frame onto the heads and necks of unsuspecting strangers, and before Regular Mom threatened her husband that if he dared to take one more picture she would rip that expensive lens off his camera and send it down the party slide in an oversized raft–Regular Mom and her husband shared a smile. They were surrounded by their children…no one crying, no one in trouble, no one demanding a snack, no one having to poop…and life was good. Regular Mom stood contentedly in four feet of disturbingly warm water, waiting for her youngest son to launch himself into her arms, when she felt a tap on her leg underwater. She turned to find her third son breaking the surface of the pool.“Hi, Mom,” he smiled.“Hi, sweetheart,” she smiled back. Her smile grew bigger as she noticed his goggles weren’t properly suctioned. His eyes were swimming in little pools of water behind those goggles.“Sorry I was in a bad mood about coming to Great Wolf Lodge, Mom,” he said quietly.“That’s OK, buddy.”“I thought we were going to the Lego Store, Mom.

I really just wanted to go to the Lego Store. But this is fun.”“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” What a precious boy.“Mom, can I ask you a question?”“Absolutely, buddy.”He looked over both his shoulders, swam up almost on top of her and asked, “Mom, would you sacrifice yourself for me?”What’s that now? Regular Mom chewed on the inside of her mouth to avoid smiling, “Without hesitation.”“Does that mean yes or no?”“That means yes.

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