When it Rains, it Pours Creamer and Coke.

I’ve got some absolutely adorable pictures to show you of our fun this weekend, but first I’m going to tell you about my last two hours. Because it’s my blog and I want to.

First, the background: So as coincidence would have it, while I was over here in Atlanta having good girlfriend times with my friend Barkley, Chris found out that he actually had to come to Atlanta tomorrow for work – something he has to do every 6 months or so. I was SUPPOSED to head back today, but for a lot of reasons, we decided it would be less stress and hassle and more fun for us to just get a room and me and Ali and Chris all stay in Atlanta tonight as well.

By the time all of this was decided, we were already checked out of the hotel we were staying in and out shopping with Bark and Woods. So Chris booked a room at a hotel a couple of miles away and emailed me directions. He got a two bedroom suite because he’s sweet (and I’m corny, I know) so that Ali could nap and I didn’t have to sit quietly in a dark room.

Now that you’re caught up, here’s the bullet points of my last two hours:

  • Tired. Achy. Back hurting and blisters on feet. About to leave the mall to go to new hotel. Hours past when naptime should have started. But fun was definitely had!!
  • Stroller won’t fold down! Completely locked up – no idea why. Managed to cram it in the back fully open on at least the 15th try and rearrange of all luggage. Wow it’s huge.
  • Finally leave. Leave key off of keyring for valet. Hate valeting, but it’s Atlanta – there’s not a parking lot in the city that you can not valet or pay huge bucks to park in.
  • Start off. After a mile, realize it’s the wrong road. U-Turn on six lane Atlanta road. Get on right road by doing illegal left turn. Realize going wrong direction on right road. U-Turn on four lane Atlanta road. Finally – right road AND right direction.
  • Get to new hotel. It’s actually NOT a highrise. Didn’t know there were any of those in Atlanta. In fact, there is a parking space right at entrance, no valet, no bellhop. No problem – see cart in hallway. Rather do it myself anyway.
  • Go in, to sign in, and desk guy tells me which room we’re in, the hands me a map and tells me to drive around the building and go up huge Mount Rushmore of stairs.
  • Okay maybe he didn’t say Mount Rushmore part, but it was.
  • I ask, naturally, where the elevator is.
  • He looks at me with “you’re a spoiled brat” written all over his face. “I’m sorry ma’am, we don’t have elevators here.”
  • Moment of panic. How is a mother supposed to unload a car, carry 57 bags of luggage (I did mention it was a girl trip, right?) and toddler up Mount Rushmore of stairs? I certainly don’t want to leave toddler in the car or the room alone. WAY too paranoid for that. Thanks to the fact that my toddler has a propensity for locking herself into hotel rooms.
  • Drive around to room. Sitting in car, staring at Mount Rushmore and trying to figure out what to do. Scary looking foreign man in parking lot. Staring at me. Meanly. Will wait till he walks around building to get out. Especially not leaving Ali ANYWHERE now.
  • Manage to lug Ali and 56 bags (left one in car) up Mount Rushmore. Whimpering a bit at the effort, but feeling spoiled for whimpering.
  • Get up there. Nice room.
  • Set up pack and play for naptime. Must have a coke for naptime.
  • Where is vending? Doesn’t show on map. Call to find out where ice and vending is. It’s in the lobby. Nice. Back to lobby.
  • Ali and I go down and around to the lobby. Buy 3 (extraordinarily overpriced) cokes, ask where ice is.
  • There is no ice.
  • I clarify: No ice machine?
  • Get the spoiled girl look again. There’s a fridge and freezer in your room.
  • But there’s no ice in it – I looked before I came.
  • I know. That’s just how we’re set up. But the guy in the kitchen over there can give you some.
  • Walk to kitchen – it’s the scary foreign guy. Nice. He gives me ice. Still a bit glary.
  • On way out, I go ahead and steal creamers and sugar (to help make up for the extraordinarily overpriced cokes) from breakfast bar for the huge amounts of coffee I plan to consume.
  • Trouble carrying 3 (extraordinarily overpriced) cokes, huge bag of ice, coffee cup full of creamer and coffee cup full of sugar while holding toddler’s hand on way back to room.
  • Hand coffee cup full of creamers to toddler, ask her to carry it carefully.
  • She immediately tips cup slightly and a creamer falls out, of which she immediately steps on and sprays everywhere.
  • Get back to car, get a bag out of car to put stuff in to make it up Mount Rushmore.
  • Drop an (extraordinarily overpriced) coke, which starts spraying all over parking lot.
  • It’s a well moisturized parking lot.
  • Get up to room, PUT TODDLER TO BED.

ahhhhhh.

The Moral of this story: Just because you have an Irish last name, you don’t automatically get the luck of the Irish on St. Patty’s day. Nope, St. Patrick must know that I’m a poser. I need a Greek holiday.