This Traveling Road Show Will Not Be Coming to a City Near You
The suitcases, Pack and Play and other assorted tote bags were crammed into the back of the SUV, after much struggle and cursing. With only one item left to fit into the puzzle-piece mess of cargo, I was feeling optimistic.
But, sadly, the last remaining hole in the chaos wasn’t big enough for the odd-shaped bag I was attempting to stuff into it, and the whole mess came tumbling down like a Jenga tower.
Baby Boy is screaming in his carseat for a movie, and Big Sister is moaning that she’s hungry and wants a snack.
And we have yet to pull out of the driveway.
This is the traveling road show that I sometimes admit is my family, and I can assure you that we are not coming to a city near you.
You can breathe a sigh of relief.
After three road trips in the time span of a month, I’ve made the executive decision to shut down this tour of terrors.
As a single person, I used to love to travel. The longer the distance, the better.
But throw these other humans into the mix, and it becomes my own personal hell. Schedules, naps, terrible-two temperaments, and bizarre food fetishes don’t mix well with the uncertainty and unpredictability of travel.
And that’s just the getting there part.
What happens once you’re there, and you realize you’ll now have to suffer the humiliation of your child’s temper tantrum in front of a public audience? If you’re me, you worry about whether you should pull the plug on this visit before your host (or anyone within a three mile radius) reports you for disturbing the peace.
And then there is the fun that ensues at bedtime, with the entire family crammed into one hotel room. Our last night of misery featured Baby Boy standing in his Pack and Play at the foot of our bed, screaming all night, refusing to sleep. Then Big Sister fell out of bed with a thud, knocking over a cup of water on the nightstand, which spilled on me, of course.
The next morning, I packed my ragged bunch, sleep deprived and crabby, back into the SUV and high-tailed it back home to nurse our wounds in the comfort of our own insane asylum.
So, talk to me about a girls’ trip, or I’d certainly entertain a weekend away with Husband. But do not ask me to drag this rag-tag crew back out onto the interstate, or I might hyperventilate just thinking about it.
We will not be the family sending out a Christmas card showcasing us in a picturesque setting from our summer vacation. We will not be those cool parents who take our kids to Colorado, or Europe, God forbid.
I don’t know how you people do it.
This Road Warrior is hanging up her REI Packable Travel Hat until further notice.