We’re tired. We still have unpacking to do. We miss the beautiful 75 degree days. But we’re home, safe and sound, and happy to have arrived without All The Drama.
What drama, you ask?
The Maggie Drama that ensued approximately 3-1/2 hours into our annual trek to the beach. Apparently, her parents were naive enough to think the girl could just “make it” on a 6 hour trip in the middle of the afternoon. We underestimated the needs of a one year-old.
Those needs include NOT being in a carseat for hours on end.
The trip to Cali started happy and fun. We were excited to use her new forward-facing carseat, hoping this would make her ride more enjoyable.
We saw pretty, cloudy blue skies.
We sang Itsy Bitsy Spider and Pat-a-Cake. We tickled toes and had snacks. Soon enough, though, it became apparent that the Doodle needed to get out of the car. The whining started in increments, but soon became a full-on fit. The girl was so inconsolable. I finally climbed over the front seat to sit beside her in the back only to have her reach for me and continue crying, not understanding why I couldn’t hold her. It was pitiful. And yes, I did take a picture … the meltdown only got worse after this was taken.
So, Hubby exited the interstate in The Middle Of Nowhere, Desert, USA, somewhere west of 29 Palms, and I took her out of her carseat and we sat and cuddled for a couple of minutes. Then we just let the girl go.
After about 15 minutes of running around and getting dirty, we cleaned up and piled back into the car. Within 10 minutes we had this:
Needless to say, the itinerary for Tuesday night’s return trip was different. We left in the early evening, drove an hour and a half then stopped for dinner, allowing Maggie run-around time. Then back in the car and viola! Bedtime took over and she slept the rest of the trip.
Mommy and Daddy are freakin’ pooped, but the girl is good and isn’t that what matters?