Roadtrip

We are getting ready to take a road trip. Nashville to Maine, to spend our vacation with my boyfriend’s family. They do this every year, but I think he usually flies up there. I keep warning him that it won’t be like the other trips he and I have taken together, since Cara and Adiaare also coming. Traveling with a three year old and four year old is going to b e new experience for him. Especially since up until recently he was the quintessential bachelor. Though he gets an uncertain look in his eyes, when I remind him of this, he is quick to reassure me (and himself) that it will be fun. I think he is remembering what it was like to travel, as a child, and still views things from that perspective. Still, I hope he's right. I hope it is fun.

I remember being young and taking long trips with my family. My sister and I would sit, cramped with all the baggage, in the backseat. It seems like we always had so much stuff. For a while, we would argue and push each other off our “side” of the seat. Then, after hours, or maybe even days, of being trapped in such a small space together, we would reach a point of extreme silliness. We would sing songs, loudly and intentionally off-key, throw toys or food, twist our bodies sideways and upside down, and drive my parents crazy with our screeching and laughing. Initially, they would be amused and relieved that we were no longer fighting. Mostly, though, I remember that they looked tired. Sometimes, my mom would sigh out of sheer exhaustion. This was about the time she would start nagging my dad about his driving, telling him to watch the road and stop messing with the stereo. Music was his escape on those road trips, while my mom simply craved a little peace and quiet. So, she was thrilled when I discovered my love for reading, and that driving and reading did not make me car sick.

Despite all the chaos, we were fine, and this must be the part that my boyfriend remembers. Only, this time, he gets to join me in the role of exhausted parent. We will do all we can to ensure that the trip is bearable for the children, to spare not just their suffering, but also our own. In the end, though, it all just makes you tired, and the arrival at the destination is that much sweeter for having survived the road getting there.