If anyone out there wonders if I really could host a motherhood show on television, I have to ask who better to host a show than a mom who is constantly facing unusual parenting challenges?  No, seriously.  What is up with that?

I had found an affordable summer camp type experience that would work for our entire family. We rented a two bedroom cabin on a lake in the middle of nowhere. Correction- the middle of a part of the country where people fly flags that clearly advertise only Caucasians are welcome. Whenever I get stuck in city traffic and start to glamorize the middle of nowhere, I need to remind myself that glamorous middle of nowhere is only affordable with Ted Turner ranch owning money.  I’m sure Mr. Turner doesn’t have billboards near his property with anonymous hotline numbers to call  in case you suspect your neighbor is a meth dealer.

Once on the actual camp property things changed dramatically. The site was clean and scenic and we felt welcome and at home.  We quickly signed up for the numerous activities offered to make families forget the lack of televisions and phones available on the property. We then went to our cabin and Matt unloaded the car while the girls and I explored each room.  The drapes had been closed and I threw them open enthusiastically to show the girls the gorgeous lake view.

That’s when things went horribly, terribly wrong.

I’ve told you before that in the China adoption community ladybugs are a sign of good luck.  Families up next for their referral often spot ladybugs in the oddest of places and they feel it’s a sign that they’ll soon meet the child that waits for them in China.  It happened to me and I thought my referral was months away.  That day there was a ladybug on my windshield and I laughed and told her to fly to another family.  It wasn’t our turn!  An hour later I got that unexpected and memorable phone call that we had a new daughter.  Ladybugs have become a good luck symbol in our family.  Miss Boo has numerous ladybug themed books.  When she asked if she could bring The Grouchy Ladybug by Eric Carle to the cabin, I said sure, why not pack other ladybugs books and we’ll make it a nightly reading theme.

Yeah, why didn’t I tell her to bring the one about the family that wins the lottery?

One ladybug crawling across your window is cute.  Throwing open window drapes in your vacation cabin to reveal hundreds of ladybugs crawling all over the window is just creepy.  And it wasn’t in just one of the rooms.  Oh no.  Each window in the cabin was covered in ladybugs.  So were the tables.  So were the chairs.  So were the bathroom mirrors.  Our cabin was literally crawling with ladybugs.

The girls freaked. The ladybugs were flying around, dive bombing against the windows, hitting us in the face, landing on our arms and scurrying everywhere we looked.  They were especially attracted to little Avie who would scream at the top of her lungs, “GET IT OFF ME!  AHHHHHHHHHH!!!  I WANT TO GO HOME!  I WANT TO GO HOME!!!”

A call to the lodge revealed the property had been invaded with ladybugs and there was nothing they could do.  I tried to explain to the girls that ladybugs don’t bite, we were in the country, and let’s make the most of the experience, ok?   Hey, let’s go wander the camp grounds and see what we can find!

We ended up in an indoor rec center that had a full size basketball court.  The lights had been off and were the kind that take a bit of time to warm up.  I flicked on the switch and let the girls in and they ran around chasing basketballs in the dim light.  Miss Boo soon asked, “Why is this floor so crunchy?”  That’s when the lights came on full force to reveal the gym floor was completely from one end to the other in dead ladybugs.  Once again the girls began freaking out and we quickly left with them saying, “I don’t like this place.  I don’t like dead ladybugs! I WANT TO GO HOME!”

I suggested we play outside of the cabin. The girls loved that idea and ran around and giggled and chased one another. It went perfectly until a strong wind came out of nowhere, sending down a shower of dead ladybugs from the cabin’s roof.  I stood there feeling perhaps like Carrie did in the scene when the bucket of blood poured over her head.  I watched helplessly as the carcasses of dead ladybugs covered my children and I  felt dried up little ladybugs bounce off the top of my head.

Now, who would you rather have hosting a mom show on cable television?  The perfectly put together mom that doesn’t exist or the mom picking dead ladybugs out of her horrified children’s hair as she says, “Remember when you travel with young children to pack your patience and expect the unexpected.  Excuse me one second, I need to spit out the dead ladybug village that just blew into my mouth.”

Oh but it’s not truly a family vacation until somebody breaks a bone. There was a playground by the lake and JunaBug was swinging and pitched forward right onto her shoulder and broke her clavicle. Of course that had to happen in the middle of nowhere, miles from medical help. Her arm is in a sling and it will take a few weeks to heal. What a fun souvenir from your family vacation!

BUT sometime between the the ladybugs and the broken clavicle, the girls rode horses, they played mini golf, we made ceramics, we roasted marshmallows around a campfire, and we took a boat ride on the lake in sunny 75 degree weather.

It was, like all aspects of the motherhood experience, a challenging but rewarding experience.  Until the broken clavicle. Then it just plain sucked. It’s our first broken bone, which completely broke my heart.  No mom can stand to see her child in pain.

Ahhh but like how it always goes with me, out of the darkness came inspiration. While driving back to the city I came up with my next family television TV show idea.  Thanks to that whacked out family vacation, the show treatment pretty much wrote itself!

Spring Break?  More like Spring Broken.  We’ll try again next year.

Well! I just experienced one of those parenting milestones a mom knows is coming but hopes it won’t happen until her child is in her 20s and about to get married.  Hey Mommy?  Where do babies come from?  Ok, maybe not in her 20s, but at least older than preschool???  And of course, Matt wasn’t home. He had run to the store as I tucked five year old Miss Boo into bed.

Boo: Mommy, where was I before I was born?

Me: I think before you were born you were a little angel sitting on a cloud.  You liked to dangle your feet off the cloud and watch the people below.  One day you saw me and said, “I want her to be my mommy!”

Boo: (Laughs)  That’s so funny!  I was an angel on a cloud!

Me: You sure were, Boo.

Boo: Wow!  Now I know where babies come from!

Me: Um… well… not exactly…

Boo: Yeah, I flew down from that cloud!  How did I get into your tummy?  Did I fly into your tummy?

Me:  Well… no… um…

Boo: Mommy, tell me the story on how I got into your tummy!

Me: Oh boy. Is your father home from the store yet???

This would have been the time to bring out the pediatrician approved, age appropriate, how babies are made book written especially to not confuse or frighten young minds.  In a perfect setting, Mommy and Daddy would both be there to read the book, answer questions, and set the tone early that she can come to either one of us with her questions.

One problem.  How do you explain artificial insemination at a fertility clinic to a five year old?

We’re being honest with JunaBug on how she came into our lives.  At 2, she tells me that Mommy and Daddy came over on an airplane to China and brought her home to her sisters.  Shouldn’t I be honest and have the same approach with the other two?

OH, how about Avie, our unexpected but very welcome surprise baby?  Avie, you were made the old fashioned way during a quickie while your sister watched Mickey Mouse Club in the other room.

Ok, maybe not THAT honest.

But Miss Boo?  Made at the clinic?  How do you explain that to a five year old?

Me: Well, honey, your mommy and daddy loved each other so much that we went to the hospital.  Mommy said to Daddy, “Ok, when I was here the day before for my trigger shot, I scoped out the bathroom situation in the hospital. The clinic does not have a private father’s room. There’s only 1 one person locking bathroom in the entire hospital, but it’s behind the nurses station in Radiology.  Hey, if you need to use them for inspiration, go for it.  I don’t care who you picture, just get it done because our appointment downstairs at the clinic is in 15 minutes.  Happy .. um… here take the collection cup and have fun!”

When Daddy came out of the bathroom grinning,  Mommy high fived Daddy said, “Man I wish my portion of this process was that much fun!”

Mommy and Daddy then raced downstairs to the fertility clinic where they were the first couple in line that day.  Mommy said to the nurse, “Thank goodness we’re first.  That means you won’t get his sample confused with some doofus looking guy from West County.”  As if on cue, in walked an upscale looking couple I assumed was indeed from West County.  And yeah, he was kind of doofus looking.   I thanked your Daddy in my head for being so being so quick on the draw that day.  Er, um… OK SO THEN…

Mommy and Daddy were then taken back to an exam room where moments later a nurse appeared with a tube filled with pink liquid.  She explained, “This doesn’t mean this will make girls.  We wash the sample so only the strongest swimmers survive and the fluid just happens to be pink.”  Mommy was disappointed because she really had hoped pink meant girl.

Matt: Swimmers?  Don’t we have to use the proper terms?

Me: Then a catheter was inserted into mommy’s UTERUS  and the pink liquid was put into mommy and … wow I can just imagine the stories being shared at preschool tomorrow.

So then Mommy was given another shot in her bootie and told to come back on Monday for an ultrasound to see if the follicle containing an egg had burst, meaning the egg was probably released, but that was no guarantee an egg had come out or even fertilized.  That made Mommy sad because $750 dollars is a lot of money to put your legs in the stirrups at a hospital and not get knocked up.  I mean, $750 for fertile couples could buy them a whole weekend at a fancy hotel and OF COURSE they’d walk away pregnant without even trying.  But noooooooooo not us…. Wow.  I’m still bitter. She’s five years old.  We have three children.  I’m still bitter.  Do I need to go back into therapy for this?

Matt: This went well.

Miss Boo: So I was an angel on a cloud, huh.

Yeah.  I think that discussion will have to wait a few years.