Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Trip Plotting And Driving With Kids
We're planning our massive journey from coast to coast. (For the sake of an easy description, I'll actually just christen the Finger Lakes part of the Atlantic Ocean, and say it really is coast to coast. There, done. Coast to coast it is.) We've got some exciting stops planned, some lovely scenery, some hauntingly beautiful stretches of road to cover. I'm incredibly excited to see my good friends in California, my family in Tennessee and Iowa, my friends and family in West Virginia. I'm less excited, somewhat seriously less excited, about crossing huge swaths of the country with two little ones in tow.
I'm not sure how they'll handle it. They are fine in the car, but this is a huge trip. They'll enjoy seeing friends and family. But we have no one from California to Tennessee, given that we're taking a pretty southern route. The desert will be interesting for them, I imagine. But how interesting? And will Arkansas derail us entirely, forcing us to disband and join other families? Will Jaime kill me the twentieth time I make reference to the Boggy Creek creature?
We have a mix of distraction and sleep planned to get us through the trip. We plan on early morning drives, evening drives, and a portable dvd player. I'm less worried about Viri, since he can draw and talk, and more worried about Arkaedi, who can throw crayons and scream. (And sing. Many a commute has been made hilarious and long by a chorus of "My poop!" from Pretty Sue.)
The trip is going to be amazing, however it turns out. Interesting, exciting, and insane, most likely. Some of my fondest memories are of trips just like this. Breaking down in snow covered fields in Iowa. Laughing at nothing in Arizona with Jaime because we've been driving for days. The biggest a sky could possibly be in Texas.
If nothing else, this could be the trip I reference when I'm boring my children with tales of the Boggy Creek creature.