We’re not really a vacation kind of family.
I’m sure well will be once Cara gets older, but up until around this time last year, it was just Tucker and me. Our lazy asses preferred to sit on the couch and save the cash that we would have spent on a trip.
All that being said, we did take a family “vacation” last Christmas; the grandparents were almost rabid with their desire to see Cara. [they could have cared less about seeing us]
And, I was dreading it.
Cara was six weeks old and refused to tolerate her car seat for longer than fifteen minutes without screaming bloody murder.
Since “home” is sixteen hours away, I knew that we were in for a very memorable trip.
The day of our trip came and by 6am we had packed our vehicle and secured a very pissed off Cara into her seat.
We grabbed a quick breakfast and set out for what promised to be hell: driving style.
I hadn’t slept the night before [Cara was still nursing every hour or so] and all I wanted to do was curl up in a little ball in my seat and sleep all of the way to Arkansas.
My irrational dream of Cara sleeping for several hours didn’t happen.
By the end of hour one, we had stopped twice so that I could change a wet diaper and nurse the screaming Cara.
Since she refused to nurse from a bottle, our only option was to stop each and every time that she needed to nurse.
Jump to around hour twelve.
Somehow, we had managed to get ourselves lost in a very bad part of Birmingham. Cara was demanding to eat and I’m sure that you could hear her screeching from outside of the vehicle.
Tucker pulled over to look at the map and I made sure that all of the doors were locked before I fed Caroline. [visions of carjackers danced through my head]
By hour seventeen, and with Cara screaming her head off, [recurring theme] I had a “light bulb” moment.
I don’t have what anyone would call “perky” boobs; I never have.
I could probably breastfeed Cara from the front seat if I really wanted tried. [Ok. Not really. Great mental picture though, right?]
In a moment of utter desperation, I whipped out a boob and leaned over the infant carrier.
She ate, we didn’t have to stop and my biggest concern was how much boob the passing truckers were seeing.
Luckily, none honked at us so I have to assume that they didn’t see much.
We finally made it; our sixteen our trip had taken us twenty-one hours.
When the time came to drive back to Florida, I was seriously considering ditching the SUV in Arkansas and flying back to Florida.
Luckily, my boob “trick” saved us not only time, but also our sanity.
If you haven’t watched Chevy Chase in National Lampoon’s “Vacation” and not recognized your own family in the Griswolds, then you haven’t taken a real family vacation. Because no matter how carefully you plan, chaos will befall you – although hopefully it won’t be as extreme as the chaos that the Griswolds seem to attract.