My husband has lost his mind. I’m certain by the end of the day, whatever was left of mine will also be gone—hanging out along a desolate roadside trying to hitchhike its way to a sane body.
It is that time of year—when we make the major trek from Austin to Iowa and back again to see family.
This year? We’re driving.
The trip is carefully planned—stops strategically located along the way so my children can run amok and burn off some energy. Normally it is split into two days containing seven hours of total drive time, but nine hours of travel time thanks to the aforementioned stops.
It keeps us sane.
It worked perfectly on our trek to Iowa, aided greatly by the sheer brilliance of the built-in DVD player and Pixar.
We planned to leave last Friday, but due to circumstances beyond our control, we stayed.
We didn’t leave until around 5 PM on Saturday.
This worked, because we had initially planned on taking three days to drive back, allowing us time to visit friends along the way who were too busy during the first leg of our trip. The first stopping point: Kansas City with my college friend Katie and her family.
Which was awesome, but far too short, thanks to previous plans of theirs and our late arrival.
The second leg (Part B) was to be to Tulsa to visit my aunt (and her pool). Because it is only about four hours, it gives us plenty of time to play in the morning and in the evening, and the children are happy.
Only Part B is now shot to hell.
My husband wants to get home. ASAP. His brilliant idea is avoid Tulsa entirely, take the interstate, and be in Austin tonight.
I allowed him to talk me into it, although he claims I’ve done nothing but bombard him with passive-aggressive delays.
It is the fear of the reality of driving ten hours in one day with my children.
Even if we drove straight through—not even a bathroom break, which is impossible with two children—we would still not be there until dark and after bedtime.
And you cannot drive ten hours without many breaks for a five-year-old and two-and-a-half-year-old.
If we make it before midnight, I shall be shocked.
I just remembered how the interstate is supposed to have construction after 9 PM between Dallas and Austin.
And it’s raining in Kansas. With the possibility of severe weather.
That’s right, I’m typing this as Finding Nemo and the headsets my children will now both wear render the car silent, minus the rain pelting the windshield and the occasional synchronous high-pitched squeal of delight at key parts of the movie.
Thank God for headsets—it just reached the drill part—which I cannot listen to without plugging my ears and chanting loud.
I doubt the headset wearing will last the entire car ride, as even Pixar will lose its appeal after many hours.
If I get wi-fi before my battery dies, you shall be blessed with this tale while ongoing.*
Assuming my brain hasn’t abandoned me for saner pastures.
*Note: This was not posted until almost 1 AM on Monday—after unloading and carrying the kids to bed.
We are home. We are safe.
And very, very tired.
I won’t know if I’ve lost my mind for sure until tomorrow.