Are We There Yet?

By Leigh Thomas

 

 

Our family nickname is the Thomas Traveling Circus, so I suppose it’s only fitting that we travel beyond a 20-mile radius of our home from time to time.

We did that last weekend, to beautiful Charlottesville, Va. to visit dear, dear friends. If you have traveled with small children, then you know a drive like this (about 6.5 hours) requires careful planning and execution.

This careful planning begins hours in advance and falls just short of dehydration to avoid a bathroom break at every shady gas station just off I-85. Get everything in the car (and by everything I mean enough entertainment and clothing to last until spring break. Six pieces of luggage for three nights might seem excessive to you, but that’s how we roll. And no, if you must know, this did not include blankets, stuffed animals and snacks. Or the wine. But that’s another post). So everyone’s packed and cozy in the car and it’s all fun and games at first. For about 20 minutes.

“Are we theeeeeere yet?”
“How much looooonger?”
About six hours.
“Six hoooooooouuurs?”

Watch your movie.

Do not even mention “bathroom” under your breath unless you are planning a stop in the next five minutes. Just uttering the word prompts an emergency of dire proportions. When they get to a certain age you can just put it off as long as possible and gauge whether their eyes are starting to water.

After stop #1, B points out that most normal people try to stop at a rest area or the nicest gas station possible. Well, that’s normal people. We are Thomases and we went to Starbucks. In my defense, it was advertised on the interstate and described as a mere mile off the exit. Twenty minutes, one poorly designed strip mall and two U-turns later, I had a pumpkin spice latte. With whip.

Fast forward an hour or so, and impatience and arguments start to set in.

I want to listen to Frozen!” (the soundtrack)
“No! We cannot listen to Frozen. It will make me have to go the bathroom.” (What? Frozen was more, well, frozen water, not … trickling water. Whatever.)
“He put his hand in my face!”

I’m now reminded of beach trips when I was a kid and my granny was strategically placed in the middle of the backseat between my brother and me so we wouldn’t punch each other in the face and ultimately get spanked on the side of the road. And I thought I’d never hear myself bellow “KEEP your HANDS on YOUR side!”

Have I mentioned that my kids don’t sleep in the car? So if you were wondering at what point they would just take a nap, you can forget that little convenience. My kids haven’t slept during the day since age 2. So when the movies are over and the bickering has subsided, they talk. And by talk I mean ask questions.

“Mom, what do you want me to draw?”
A dinosaur.
10 seconds later … “what do you want me to draw now?”
A cow.
10 seconds later … “what do you want me to draw now?”
A tractor.
A couple of minutes later and we have Old MacDonald’s whole freaking farm with a dinosaur to boot … “what do you want me to draw now?”
I’m not playing anymore.

 

My kids, with their sweet friend, happy to be outside of the car.

 

All of this to say … my kids really are good in the car. No, seriously. We arrived in one (partially sane) piece, and despite rainy weather, we had an awesome three days of relaxation, good food, playing, catching up, shopping and picking apples in the mountains. Then we made the same trip in reverse. On the way up, my son had asked about our friends, “Mom, are they family?” I thought about that for a second and said, “Yep, they sure are.” And what could be more worth that trip?

‘Til next time, Charlottesville!

 

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Leigh Thomas — Columbia-area wife, mom and communications professional. Also a runner and lover of red wine, M&Ms and South Carolina Gamecocks. Visit her blog at literalleigh.blogspot.com. 

 

 

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