home sweet home

We're back from our whirlwind trip to Ashland. As we were pulling out of the drive, Daddy said that we should do the trip more often because it was pretty easy. I had to laugh because (1) I don't think we have a free weekend between now and 2008, so I'm not sure when we would be able to make the trip (ah, football season is upon us) and (2) while the 6-ish hour trip isn't horrendous, it certainly isn't a walk in the park with a 3-year-old and almost 1-year-old. They certainly get restless during the trip. And, at some point, E may give potty training a shot (or maybe A...she seems more obsessed with the Dora potty than E), which will slow our pace considerably. Then, of course, there's the trait it appears that both girls have inherited from me, sure to wreak havoc on road trips for the next 10 or so years. My girls get car sick.

When I was a child, I spent most of our car trips in the front seat green with nausea. (I also possessed the world's smallest bladder...necessitating frequent pit stops. I was a barrel of fun to travel with, apparently). I famously puked on Kiki about 20 minutes into our 20 hour trip home from Disney World. E has kept the tradition going by puking several times on the way to Charlottesville. And, now A is doing her part. Luckily, she waited until we were 10 minutes from home to do so...but what she lacked in timing she made up for in shear volume. But, after we got her cleaned up and home, she was happy as a clam.

After we got the car unpacked, both girls fed and off to bed, and the lunches packed for tomorrow, I asked Daddy if he stood by the travelling-with-the-girls-is-still-easy-peasy statement from earlier in the day. The look on his face and the fact that he headed up to bed before the clock struck 9 leads me to believe he doesn't.