Flint Rigid

Our whole family got together for a vacation this year at The Statehood House in Flint Ridge, a resort near Kansas, OK.  

The first day of the trip was Emma and Ethan’s 2^nd birthday. It was a coincidence in planning and a rare occasion that we should all be together for a whole weekend: the Nelsons, the Ashings and the Garlands. Even Hank and Daisy, the dogs, came along.

It started off great, very beautiful and peaceful. The Statehood House is right in the middle of the visiting area, right next to the Flint Ridge pool.  A recreation area is down a grassy slope in front of the house, with a basketball court, a mini-golf course, shuffle board, volleyball, a playground, and even a big, beautiful waterfall in the background. The house is two stories with a kitchen on both floors. There are enough bedrooms upstairs to accommodate The Waltons and even a room full of beds downstairs in case they still want to say all of their goodnights in the same room. There is also a 9-hole golf course and the river is just a short drive away.

Who wouldn’t have fun here?

Whoever doesn’t have fun at the amazing and beautiful Flint Ridge Resort must be a complete stick-in-the-mud, a tired and rigid soul.

Amy, Mom and I cooked spaghetti on the babies' birthday and Mom had even baked a cake. We sang "Happy Birthday" and Emma was horrified. I guess group singing is just too much for her as of yet. That night was a great night. I loved cooking with my mom and sister and enjoying a meal that we all love on my kids' birthday in this old house that is full of history and memories of who knows how many. I was looking forward to a much needed retreat with my family.

On the first night, there happened to be a retirement party being held down on the basketball court. There were 2 kegs of beer set up on a table and they hired a band. All the party guests lined the court with their camping chairs. It was a little unexpected to hear live music on our “camping” trip, but we are a music-loving family. We all sat on the porch in our camping chairs and enjoyed. The babies had to be held while out on the dark porch because there were no guard rails to prevent them from a nasty fall. In the house, the stairs presented a similar problem.

We noticed that the party guests were not partying like we thought they should. No one was dancing. Not even chair-dancing. There were a few feet tapping, but we thought that if they went all out with a band and 2 kegs, they should at least dance. 

And since we went all out to pack our two two year olds, their things, our things, even the dog, we should at least try to enjoy ourselves as much as possible too, right? Of course.

It was way past the twins' bedtime, and it had been a long day, so I was surprised that they hadn't just fallen asleep right where they stood. I guess there was just too much going on. All of their favorite people were here, and Kacie and Karli were still available to play. It was their birthday! By midnight, the band was still rocking on, and Mimi and I were still rocking babies. Actually, there were no rocking chairs, so we had to sway babies. I stood and swayed and Mimi rocked back and forth on the end of the bed. We sang "The Ants Go Marching" over and over.  At home, I rock them for one song and lay them in their crib at about 8:00. They talk for a while before they finally drift off to sleep by 8:30. This time, there was no rocker and no crib and no familiar nursery to soothe the babies as usual. Every time I tried to lay a baby down, he or she cried.


1:00 am... "The ants go marching 8 by 8, hurrah, hurrah..."


3:00 am... "The ants go marching 10 by 10, hurrah, hurrah..."

   "Pappy seepin'," Emma brightly pointed out.

5:00 am... "Hush little babies...don't say a word...Mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird...."   

"Down," said Ethan as he reached his feet for the floor. I followed him into the living room, where I thought maybe he should see the complete and utter darkness, the silence of the night.

"It's in the middle of the night, Ethan. See? You need to go to sleep, please...."

5:30 am... We finally fell asleep.

7:00am--"Down!" demanded Ethan and he was ready to tackle the day. All day.

I guess I am spoiled because I have never had such a sleepless night in my life. Not even when they were tiny. Mimi and I both had a sleepless night, and she, I must add, did so much more gracefully than I. My calmness kept faltering, and I'd grumble out some whiny complaint. Mimi remained calm and kept helping me endure the night with our babies. I was somewhat comforted by her lullaby. She sang Rock-a-bye Baby and sounds in a way like Mary Poppins. I love how she pronounces each word very properly like you should.

The rest of the family had a lovely night's sleep I'm sure, and that just delighted me, just delighted me. That's wonderful. I'm so glad you all are well-rested. I knew I was going to have a hard hill to climb.

I guess I could have slept the day away, but that didn't sound appealing on our vacation, so I tried to buck up and press on. I took a walk alone with Daisy up the steep road toward the river. On my walk, I found the solitude somewhat surprisingly depressing, but I kept trying to break through the cloud that seemed to be hanging around me for the last few weeks. I had been under a lot of stress at work. And being a working mother of twin toddlers is not always easy.

This is our first family vacation, the first time we've spent more than one day away from home with the babies. I'm not sure what I expected. I knew the sleeping arrangements would have to be flexible, but I wasn't prepared to count sleeping out all together. I wasn't expecting to worry about the babies' every move on the porch and in the house. The house was surrounded by parking lot and streets with passing Flint Ridge visitors in their cars. I worried about the babies left, right, front and back. Everyone was great about helping me keep an eye on them, but no matter how I tried, I couldn't shake the tension from my body and mind.

The men and older children went golfing. Mom and Amy wanted to swim, but I didn't feel like it. I was tired. They took the babies for a swim and I put my feet in. The babies wear their life jackets in the water because they don't yet know how to swim. Amy seemed surprised by this and mentioned that when her babies were this age, she went to Mommy and Me swimming lessons. For some reason, given my current state of mind, this comment bothered me. I have to work and my situation is different. Part of me feels a little cheated out of Mommy and Me sometimes. I love having twins; I do. These kids have brought Rodney and me nothing but joy since they were born. I also love my job. I think my job brings me a sense of purpose and pride that helps me to be a better mother. Having two babies at once was nothing I could've planned or prepared for, but I would not change it for a million bucks. It's a miracle to me. It's not that I sit around thinking of all the things that would be easier if I'd had one baby at a time. I might have adjusted to motherhood a little more gradually and gracefully. But that's not how it happened. I have a modern family and I'm not sorry for that. I am truly blessed. On this day, however, through a selfish, sleep-deprived fog, I was bitter and resentful. I was terrible.

We went to the river to swim and fish and when the frigid water rushed over me, I could feel myself thawing somehow. I could talk a little more. I could smile a little more. I watched my kids playing in the river for their first time. I watched my husband catch the first fish of the day. Emma and Ethan saw their daddy's fish without much excitement. Ethan was very focused on all of the rocks to be thrown and Emma splashed in the water with Mimi and Aunt Amy. I still felt somewhat isolated from the family, and it was my fault because I had spent all day building a tense barrier between us.

That night the babies went to sleep by ten and I was able to release a little stress with a few glasses of wine. I visited with my family on the back porch and enjoyed myself as much as I could. It was the last night. Tomorrow it would be over, and I had wasted enough of it.