Riding in Cars with Kiddos

There was a time when I knew the route to my parents' cabin in Vermont so well that I could make the 200 mile drive in under three hours.  I knew how fast I could safely drive without getting a ticket or careening off the side of a mountain.  I knew where the best restrooms were if I had to use them, which I usually didn't.  And I knew where to get food, which I did even less.  This was before children of course.  

By the time we made it over the Vermont border on our way home today, we already had made three stops.  We made two more stops on our way through New Hampshire.  Three stops actually if you count peeking in at a gas station restroom only to find that there wasn't a changing table.  The Dunkin Donuts across the street didn't have a changing table either, but the nice man behind the counter offered me a gigantic trash bag to lay across the floor.  Epic poops call for epic measures, I guess.  Gross.  

All in all, it took us almost five hours to get home.  

I don't mind long car rides.  I like seeing new places.  I like shuffling through songs on the radio.  I like that Eric and I get a chance to have meaningful debates such as where the capital of the American wizarding world would be located.  

But as exciting as it is to set off for new adventures in the car, eventually you have to drive home, which is never as fun.  By then, there's nothing new to look at.  I can't find a song worth listening to on the radio, and those cute little debates are starting to seem more like couple's therapy.  Add a bored preschooler and a crying, pooping, hungry baby to the mix, and needless to say, we just wanted to get home as quickly as possibly this afternoon.

When we finally reached Massachusetts, things were starting to get weird in our car.  Maddie was whining because she wanted to hold a bag of pasta.  Vivi was crying.  I was belting out "I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues" along with the radio.  Eric had a headache.  And thus, our wonderful vacation came to an end.

Ironically, on the way up to Vermont, back when we were fresh-faced and eager to explore, there were several stops we wanted to make but couldn't.  We drove an hour out of the way to have lunch at the Long Trail Brewery.  But when we got there, both girls were sleeping soundly.  Since two sleeping children in the hand are worth more than two cranky children in the bush, we just kept on driving.  That trip took about six hours, but hey, at least the girls got in a good nap.

The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry...especially if you have kids.  

These are the faces of three insane people stuck in traffic in the middle-of-nowhere Vermont.  Vivi was there too, but busy either pooping or crying.  It's a toss up.