N'awlins

Because my husband is a genius (and also a hottie, but that is irrelevant), his Anesthesia program sent him on an all-expense-paid trip to the breath-taking city of New Orleans.  (It's mostly breath-taking because it smells like fish + vomit + the humidity is 97% and you literally cannot breathe.)  

Naturally, I immediately invited myself to come along.

It was UN.BE.LIEVABLE.

We ditched the munchkins at Grandmas and my dear friend Bethany and I jetted across the country to meet up with our husbands.  

*Note to self for future trips: When you let your husbands book your seats on the airplane, you will end up in different rows. (Same seat letters though, so they get half credit.  Except not.)  

I forced Bethany to turn around and talk to me the entire flight though, so it was all good.  

  DAY 1: When We Still Called it "New Ore-Leans"

In the morning we hit the town and soaked up all the New Orleans goodness.  The first stop was the famous Bourbon Street.  We hunted for masks + found the cutest little bakery + souvenir shopped... +

 lusted after the beautiful architecture (I have a serious door fetish.  Yes, a door fetish.  Don't you judge me.)... +

somehow found our way to Freedom Square (even though Bethany kept trying to get us killed by walking out into the street on green lights. :)

+ took 37 pictures every 3 feet we walked because it seriously was just that cool.

Eventually we met up with the boys for a delightful outside lunch (even thought the waitress tried her darnedest to ruin it entirely), and even had time to drag them to the world's most confusing mall (which they could. not. believe. was our first priority next to food.  Yes, we have malls in California.  No, we do not get to go to them for as long as we want without children.  So we win.)

After the boys had served their time at the Conference we met up for what I can only describe as the most surreal night of my life.

First, we headed to the Louisiana Sea Food Festival.

(It must be noted for posterity's sake that I brought my half-eaten left-over salad from lunch - which I carried around in my purse all day - in order to avoid being forced to eat sea food at the Sea Food Festival.  No regrets.)  After trying unsuccessfully to not gag watching the boys slurp up their snot rockets (aka oysters), we strolled around City Park and acted like complete idiots.

We went mini-golfing and by some miracle Luke and I won a bet and earned ourselves some free ice cream.  (Which is good, cause in New Orleans it's sea food or ice cream and we all know how I feel about sea food.)

And then, the coolest thing in the world happened.  

We found ourselves front-row at a free Pat Green concert. 

Now.  Some of you may not know who Pat Green is.

But I do.

His CD was the first one I ever bought with my own money + it was the anthem of my college days +  I know every word of every song and I just about diiiiiiiied.

 Minus the loud drunk guy next to us, I could have stayed there forever.  I'm still in denial that it even happened.

(Wow.  Groupie much....?)

After the concert we decided we had to head down Bourbon Street to get the real, authentic, bona fide New Orleans experience.

My dear sweet friends, 

No.

(Just picture us for a second.  Four white Mormon parents walking down Bourbon Street eating Baskin Robbins and trying not to let our eyes pop out of their sockets.  We made it about 100 feet.  And there are no pictures of this particular part of the trip.  That is not a random coincidence.)

DAY 2: When We Started Calling it "New Ore-Lins"

On Sunday we went to church in the cutest, quaintest, most adorable little church and met up with an awesome friend from Iowa days.

 

 Next, we headed to Storybook Land, a cute little place for 4 year old children and looked like total creepers so we kept it classy by taking jumping pictures in front of each statue in the park. 

 (Because Luke loves jumping pictures and truly appreciates their artistic beauty.)

And since we didn't look ridiculous enough already...

well...

THIS:

  Eventually, recess ended and we had to pick up the boys.

 We headed through some back alleys + managed to not get shot or raped + called that a huge success.

 

 

 That night we headed to the famous Cafe Du Monde for a beignet, which is basically a glorified Krispy Kreme and is really good (unless you eat it as dinner).

DAY 3: We Attempt to Call it "N'awlins"

We started with breakfast at "the Ruby Slipper" (which was as cute as it sounds) +

almost got blown away by the wind +

and spent the day wrecking havoc on the unsuspecting shops of Magazine Street.

 And then, things got real.  We headed down south for a tour on the Louisiana Bayou.  

We floated down the swamp in a boat + 

 

held baby alligators + 

watched the boys have a totally meaningless ten minute discussion about suspension bridges + 

wrestled some gators +

saw some alligators in the wild + 

fed some wild boars marshmallows + 

got completely and totally caught in a thunder storm.

DAY 4: We Call It "N'awlins" in One Syllabul

Since our flight left in the early afternoon, we didn't have much time to galavant around the city all morning.  So instead we went to see "Meet the Mormons" where I cried my bleary eyes out

and then we left the best 

vacation

of

our

lives.