The title can be a bit tricky to figure out, therefore, I must explain. Snip is in regard to vasectomy. If I ever want to do a road trip in the future, two kids is the max, get it?
Okay, for the description.
Mom lives 5-6 hrs away, depending on who's driving. If it's Harold or Jason, you're looking at 6 hrs, if it's yours truly, approximately 5.
This is second trip heading down to So Cal solo. I've done quite a few road trips to Sonora with both boys, but 3 hrs is a whole different ball game then 6. All trips have been extremely successful, very easy, very quiet, very peaceful.
The trip down was great. My mom was with me, both boys napped in the car, Carter was silent the entire time due to the genius modern invention of the in-car DVD player. Everett talked a bit, and played with toys. Grammy was needed in the back the last 10 minutes of the trip to entertain. Not a big deal. The one-time potty/ gas up stop was simple, a bit longer than the usual, but everyone was fed and caffeinated.
SO, the trip back. I was alone. No biggy. Trip started off nicely especially since the previous 2 hrs at Grammy and Opa's was disastrous due to a low-blood sugared, overtired two-yr-old. I'm not kidding you, if the kid doesn't get food as soon as he wakes up, it's a BAD way to start the day. Tack on him waking at 6:30am and it wasn't pretty.
Then came the pit-stop. Proud that I made it 2/3 the way without a peep from either of the boys, I was nice and relaxed. Pulled into the gas station. All pumps are down (after I opened the tank, inserted card, etc.). Next gas station--packed. Both boys are getting bored so I decide to find another. Third gas station. Relief. Carter "helps" pump the gas. We pull aside, park at Starbucks (or in Harold's terms "666").
Ideally, I would like to eat at Inn N Out--at least they have pure beef, but the line is horrendous. So is the line to Carl's and Taco Schmell. So, Jack in the Crack it is. I walk both boys over and across the street (Everett in the stroller, Carter holding his "handles"). The line had only 5 people, but leave it be that it took about 30 mins to order. I take Carter for his 1st pit stop potty break. Pick up the food, hike back to Starbucks to eat (I'm sorry, I just can't nurse Everett in Jack in the Crack, something feels wrong about it).
Carter enjoys his not-so-healthy hamburger, I nurse Everett. All is well. Then an 8-yr-old VERY friendly kid comes over to play with Everett (while contently eating, no joke). I'm a bit annoyed/ flustered that this kid is so enamored with my baby.
Back to Starbucks. So, then I pull out the lovingly prepared egg yolk and banana that Grammy packed for Easy E. Feed the bruit, Carter starts on his apple sauce. Carter needs to go potty. Going potty with an infant and a new potty trainer (pants come off, undies come off, please don't touch that, please point it down!)--let's just say it takes more than a minute.
Order the caffeine.
Back in the car. I realized it took one hour and fifteen minutes. Record breaking.
Big sigh of relief/ shaking my head in disbelief--I just tacked on an extra 45 minutes to my road trip... that's BUNK!
Well, Everett took another nap, Carter was content just watching the tractors and dairy farms, thank goodness, as Elmo's voice was beginning to sound like nails on a chalkboard.
Then it happened. The second we get on 152, Easy E pulled a cry-fest. It started with just being opinionated, but certainly turned into crying. Wailing. I've never had that happen with either of my kids. I've heard of it happening on road trips, but have never "gotten" to experience it. Not so fun.
We exit Dunne (Hallelujah!). Then Carter starts making his annoying screeching sound (interpretation: I'm bored, if I sound like Everett maybe I will get some attention quicker). It freaks Everett out (who is now calm). Everett starts screaming. I tell Carter if he does it again, he will get a spanking when we get home. Carter does it again. Everett gets even more worked up which I didn't think was possible. I tell Carter he's getting a spanking when we get home. Carter starts wailing.
I hope that paints a picture for you. What's crazy is I'm already planning the next trip. Memory fades, my friends.
Okay, for the description.
Mom lives 5-6 hrs away, depending on who's driving. If it's Harold or Jason, you're looking at 6 hrs, if it's yours truly, approximately 5.
This is second trip heading down to So Cal solo. I've done quite a few road trips to Sonora with both boys, but 3 hrs is a whole different ball game then 6. All trips have been extremely successful, very easy, very quiet, very peaceful.
The trip down was great. My mom was with me, both boys napped in the car, Carter was silent the entire time due to the genius modern invention of the in-car DVD player. Everett talked a bit, and played with toys. Grammy was needed in the back the last 10 minutes of the trip to entertain. Not a big deal. The one-time potty/ gas up stop was simple, a bit longer than the usual, but everyone was fed and caffeinated.
SO, the trip back. I was alone. No biggy. Trip started off nicely especially since the previous 2 hrs at Grammy and Opa's was disastrous due to a low-blood sugared, overtired two-yr-old. I'm not kidding you, if the kid doesn't get food as soon as he wakes up, it's a BAD way to start the day. Tack on him waking at 6:30am and it wasn't pretty.
Then came the pit-stop. Proud that I made it 2/3 the way without a peep from either of the boys, I was nice and relaxed. Pulled into the gas station. All pumps are down (after I opened the tank, inserted card, etc.). Next gas station--packed. Both boys are getting bored so I decide to find another. Third gas station. Relief. Carter "helps" pump the gas. We pull aside, park at Starbucks (or in Harold's terms "666").
Ideally, I would like to eat at Inn N Out--at least they have pure beef, but the line is horrendous. So is the line to Carl's and Taco Schmell. So, Jack in the Crack it is. I walk both boys over and across the street (Everett in the stroller, Carter holding his "handles"). The line had only 5 people, but leave it be that it took about 30 mins to order. I take Carter for his 1st pit stop potty break. Pick up the food, hike back to Starbucks to eat (I'm sorry, I just can't nurse Everett in Jack in the Crack, something feels wrong about it).
Carter enjoys his not-so-healthy hamburger, I nurse Everett. All is well. Then an 8-yr-old VERY friendly kid comes over to play with Everett (while contently eating, no joke). I'm a bit annoyed/ flustered that this kid is so enamored with my baby.
Back to Starbucks. So, then I pull out the lovingly prepared egg yolk and banana that Grammy packed for Easy E. Feed the bruit, Carter starts on his apple sauce. Carter needs to go potty. Going potty with an infant and a new potty trainer (pants come off, undies come off, please don't touch that, please point it down!)--let's just say it takes more than a minute.
Order the caffeine.
Back in the car. I realized it took one hour and fifteen minutes. Record breaking.
Big sigh of relief/ shaking my head in disbelief--I just tacked on an extra 45 minutes to my road trip... that's BUNK!
Well, Everett took another nap, Carter was content just watching the tractors and dairy farms, thank goodness, as Elmo's voice was beginning to sound like nails on a chalkboard.
Then it happened. The second we get on 152, Easy E pulled a cry-fest. It started with just being opinionated, but certainly turned into crying. Wailing. I've never had that happen with either of my kids. I've heard of it happening on road trips, but have never "gotten" to experience it. Not so fun.
We exit Dunne (Hallelujah!). Then Carter starts making his annoying screeching sound (interpretation: I'm bored, if I sound like Everett maybe I will get some attention quicker). It freaks Everett out (who is now calm). Everett starts screaming. I tell Carter if he does it again, he will get a spanking when we get home. Carter does it again. Everett gets even more worked up which I didn't think was possible. I tell Carter he's getting a spanking when we get home. Carter starts wailing.
I hope that paints a picture for you. What's crazy is I'm already planning the next trip. Memory fades, my friends.