It has been a messy and unproductive week.

I'm not speaking of attempting to potty-train the princess this week, that has been messy and productive.

I'm speaking of the Incident on Sunday night where I stepped on a toothpick that was embedded in the carpet. It was an arts-and-crafts toothpick, thank goodness, not a tooth-picking toothpick. But it still hurt. And part of it broke off in my foot, just below my toes.

"What was it doing in the carpet?" you ask. Good question. Ask The Pumpkin. He likes to do arts and crafts in his room on Sunday afternoons during quiet time. This week he moved out into the hallway. I thought we'd gotten it cleaned up, but apparently not.

New rule in our house: Arts and Crafts (or "arps and craps", as he calls them) will now be done on desks and kitchen tables only.

So I stepped on the toothpick. And it hurt. I tried to walk it off, thinking the skin would push out the wood eventually. Stupid idea.

By Monday my foot was throbbing. By Tuesday it was swollen and infected. By Wednesday I couldn't put any pressure on it. This is when I decided to go to the doctor. See, I'm not all that stupid. Just lame. (ha, ha)

I went into my local GP's office and asked one of the docs to give me an incredibly painful shot right in the middle of the wound, and then to dig around for awhile looking for slivers and infection. He had some free time, so he obliged.

He fancied himself a funny guy, repeatedly calling his exam table a "sacrificial alter" and asking the nurse to get him a scalpel, a drape, and that-book-we-have-on-foot-surgery-opened-to-page-1. Hilarious. It was when he started going on about gangrene deaths that the fun really started. Did you know that Civil War soldiers used to smear their swords and bayonets with horse dung? That way every wound would be fatal, whether they hit an enemy's vital organ or not. Apparently the Viet Cong did the same thing, but with wooden spears in hidden pits. Gruesome.

His stories did provide some distraction from the procedure, though, and before I knew it he had all the slivers and infection out that he could find. He sent me on my merry way with a prescription for steroids to fight further infection and orders to stay off it for a few days.

Thank heaven for modern medicine. Thank heaven for health insurance. Thank heaven for moms and husbands and awesome kids. I'm recovering nicely. Two days later and I'm already able to walk around. Yay!

Moral of the story:
-Arts and crafts need to be done on the table.
or
-Wear shoes around the house (Note: moral also works for any parent who has Legos in the house)
or
-I'm glad I wasn't a soldier in the Civil War.
or
-The kids will eventually get tired of TV and will spontaneously pull out a board game to play together. I know, I didn't think it was possible either.
or
-When mom can't walk, the house turns into a disaster zone pretty quickly.
or
-Sewing dresses will stave off the boredom of sitting on the couch for 3 days.

The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray.

And so went our weekend scuba diving in Sand Hollow. We were supposed to camp and dive. 5 dives were planned. There was a sunken airplane for Wreck Diving. There was an underwater navigation course for Nav Diving. There was a night dive planned. And anything above 1,000 feet is an altitude dive. We were going to get our Advanced Open Water Certification.

I planned and listed. I collected and packed. I thought of everything. Literally. And yet...my best laid plans went horribly awry. My mom graciously came with us to watch the kids while we dove. I found us two campsites close to the restrooms and to the reservoir where we'd be diving. We had all of our equipment. Our meals were all planned. It was going to be an awesome weekend.

Except that on the 4 hour drive to the campsite the AC went out on our car. A belt completely broke on the engine and apparently we were lucky it hadn't damaged anything else. In 90 degree weather, it was pretty warm, but we still made it.

Except that when we found our campsite and got out of the car, the 45 mph winds almost knocked us down. The kids had difficulty standing up. The desert setting was beautiful, though.

Except that the RV/tent site was not so much a tent site. It had a small, sloped, rocky, scrub-brushed area to put a tent in. Which would have been ok...

Except that when we tried to put up the tent in 45 mph winds, the sand did nothing to hold the tent stakes solidly. We nearly had to chase the tent across the dunes. Which would have been fun for the kids....

Except that they could hardly stand up. And the sand blew into their eyes. So, they spent most of the next decision-making hour in Gran's car messing with the buttons and windows. We finally made the decision to find a hotel room for the night, which would have been fine...

Except we'd already paid $60, non-refundable, for the two adjacent campsites. And the less expensive hotels were already fully booked. But we found one for $100 with a pool. Grateful for an enclosed space, we took the kids to the hotel, got the cars semi-unpacked, hit the outdoor pool. Which was great...

Except we had a 20 minute commute back the reservoir to do our diving. But, it was better than the 40 minute commute that was our other choice of lodging.

Except there was a lot of coordination that had to take place to meet up with our instructor for our first Night Dive. Except that when we went over to the reservoir at 10 pm (because the gates were closed for good after that) the wind had just died down and it'd be 2+ hour before the silt in the water settled enough to be able to see. He'd decided to do an early-morning dive instead. Which would have been fine...

Provided we were staying in the campsite, which we weren't. Or if we could get back in the gates by 5 am, which we couldn't. So we decided to call it a night and do 2-3 dives the next day before the big Scuba Club BBQ.

Except that D got sick during the night. Very sick. So sick that he could barely walk, let alone dive. Or drive, for that matter. We couldn't even stay until 2pm for the BBQ. We packed up and put D and the kids in my mom's car, due to the air conditioning situation. We headed back to the campsite for a little s'mores making. We'd promised the kids they could roast marshmallows, and they were going to roast them, dang it!

And then we started on the long 4 hour trip home. It's the farthest I've ever driven alone. It's the farthest I've ever personally driven in one sitting. It was long.

Pros of the trip:
Shay put his face underwater voluntarily for the first time. That was pretty great.
And we had a fun time in the hotel room with the 50 glowsticks I'd brought for lights-out in the tent.
And the kids had sleeping bags to sleep in on the floor.
And we had enough food to feed an army.
Plus, the hotel had a microwave in the room, which meant we could eat the chili dogs we were supposed to be roasting over the fire.
And the s'mores were delicious.
D and I spent about an hour sitting on the dock at night talking. We haven't done that in a long time.
And my mom was awesome. She just rolled with the punches. I was eternally grateful that she was there with us. I have the best mom in the world.
And the kids just quietly watched TV all the way home so D could sleep.
And the view down there was beautiful and unique. But I'll probably not go again.

The desert is not my kind of place.
I need trees. And less wind.
They don't call it Hurricane, UT for nothing, I guess.
*photo from www.ccnationalparks.com