The Best-Laid Plans of Mom & Dad

Am I the only sucker-mom out there who still makes plans with the expectation that they will unfold as I imagined?

This past weekend, the Menauls went on one last clam dig of the season. The dig was Sunday morning out on the Olympic Peninsula, so we decided to make a weekend out of it. As usual, the axis on which our plan revolved was naptime. Like many toddlers, Levi doesn’t “transfer well,” meaning that he wakes up if I try to move him from the car. I calculated that if we left after breakfast on Saturday, we’d get to Ocean Shores right around naptime. If this worked out, Mom & Dad could go for a bike ride while Levi slept in the trailer, and we’d get back to the beach with plenty of time to play before dinner. Sunday’s low tide (the sanctioned clam-digging window) was perfectly timed for a nap during the car ride home. We had ourselves a perfect plan.

Well, you know what they say about the best-laid plans. It took us more time to get ready than we’d expected (same as every single other time we get ready to go anywhere, including the backyard). We were in the car at 9, but I forgot to pack a “necessary” item (that we didn’t end up using, naturally), so we had to turn around. By the time we left home the second time, it was 9:30. 2 hours til nap time, and 2.5 hours to Ocean Shores.

Tension starts to rise.

Once on the highway, Travis casually mentions that we need to pick up bike tubes. (This is an appropriate time to point out that Travis does not hold on to plans with the same vice-like grip as his wife. He is a very laid-back person in general. I, on the other hand, am not.) I clench the steering wheel. Will they have tubes at Big 5? We still need to pick up our clamming licenses, so let’s kill two birds with one stone. Travis responds that REI is “basically a big Big 5,” and tells me where to exit.

The REI that Travis remembers is not where he expects it to be. “It must have moved,” he says. I find this hard to believe, but what’s the point in arguing? He remembers there is another one a few miles further down the highway. I make sure that his memory is reinforced by GPS, and we arrive at the REI at 10:00. There is a construction site across the street, so Levi and I watch excavators and Travis runs inside.

When he returns to the car, Travis reveals that REI does not, in fact, sell clamming licenses. It is now 10:10. Travis offers to drive; we agree that is the most efficient way to go. Before we pull out of our parking spot, the rear-view mirror takes a nose dive off of the wind shield. As if this were a common occurrence and not really weird, Travis continues to drive. We are not to be deterred. With the mirror dangling from a wire between us, we drive in silence toward the highway. The silence is broken not by laughter or conversation, but by a rock that flies into our windshield, leaving a dent to complement the dangling mirror. More silence.

Somehow, this bike ride, which wasn’t even part of the original clamming plan, has now become the focal point of my existence, my sole reason for being. I am completely consumed with getting to Ocean Shores before Levi falls asleep so he can nap while we ride. I keep telling myself that it doesn’t matter if we ride or not, but for some reason, it does matter. I will ride my bike today.

We turn up the Casper Babypants. We speed. We arrive in Aberdeen with what is possibly enough time to get our licenses and make it to Ocean Shores before naptime. But as we pull into town, the inconceivable happens. Travis sees it first: “A train.” These words are magic to Levi’s ears, but the kiss of death for our plans. Just as we are about to turn into the Big 5 parking lot, a train blocks our path. The long, slow kind.

Amusing myself by capturing the dangling mirror and the train. If you look real hard, you might spot the newly acquired crack in our windshield, too.

Levi raises our spirits by echoing our “Oh No!”s, and we amuse ourselves for the 15 minutes it takes for the train to pass. Then, like crazy people, we fly into action. Travis drops us off at the supermarket to pick up lunch, which we’d somehow forgotten to factor in. Unfortunately, what we thought was a Safeway turns out to be a Walmart. I’ve never actually shopped at a Walmart, but no matter. I pick up fruit, crackers, and chicken fingers, and a few other incidentals (Walmart’s kind of amazing) and meet Travis outside with the licenses. (Yes, I am a former hippie-style vegetarian and yes, chicken fingers from Walmart. We are in a crisis situation here, people! My bike ride is on the line!) I convince Travis we don’t have time for Dairy Queen, and we speed north to the shore.

Casper is blasting. Snacks are being passed around. Travis is putting the pedal to the metal. We haven’t come this far to only come this far, right?

I am still going on about how cheap our Walmart bill is when I turn around and discover that, a mere 20 minutes from our hotel, Levi is asleep. Travis slows the car. I return Casper to a normal decibel, and reach for another chicken finger. We need a new plan.

(I could end the story there, because the point is that the best-laid plans do go astray, and that’s life with or without a baby. But as it turned out, the weekend was amazing anyway. We parked at the hotel and when Levi woke up, we walked down to the beach for some dune-exploring, sand-digging, kite-flying fun. The beach is the best, you guys! Then, we figured it was Mom & Dad’s turn, so we eked out a 14-mile bike ride around town. Levi cried for crackers about half-way through the ride, but the headwind was strong enough that I couldn’t really hear it. We went out for Mexican – always a hit with Levi – and after he fell asleep that night, Mom & Dad shared a 6-pack in the bathroom. (Totally open to ideas for how to hang out in a hotel room after your toddler’s 7:30 bedtime. Anyone??) Levi astonished us by sleeping through the night in the Pack n Play for the first time, and the next morning, after Continental breakfast in the lobby, we made it to the beach in time to catch our clams. And Levi napped on cue during the drive home. Overall, another excellent adventure, not quite as planned.)