Traveling with younger kids is hard, trust me, I know. Our minivan has plenty of battle scars -- not to mention, unidentifiable stains, which will stay that way, because, seriously, I don't even WANT to know!
I am STILL finding petrified food, circa 2006.
My husband, Garth (not his real name) refers to the minivan as the S.S. Movable Feast, ever since the ant infestation...that ONE time...and who knew ants have a very keen sense for fishy crackers, right?!?
[sound of crickets, chirping]
I have clocked in a lot of miles, driving kids to and from...well...everywhere and spent countless number of hours...sitting in traffic...or fighting my way through parking lots, sometimes ALL in the same day.
I grew accustomed to it, pretty quickly, and often times would steal a brief glimpse of my kids in the rear view mirror, staring at the back of my head or slumped in their car seats, fast asleep.
I also became quite adept at back-handing them their juice boxes (fishy crackers, not so much) while we discussed real meaning of life sort of stuff.
Like, what happens when you hold your nose, fart and sneeze at the same time? Would your brain ooze out of your ears or your eyes bleed boogers?
The answer, by the way, is: not yet.
My kids grew up in our minivan (me too!) and, now that my oldest is driving and with the middle girl applying for her learner's permit this spring (HOLD ME!), I am slowly beginning to get used to the idea of not having to drive...especially, if I really don't want to...sort of.
Today, I feel it safe to say: traveling with grown kids is even harder, because this is what happens when your 14 year-old reaches 6 feet on the measuring wall.
Guess I should start getting used to this view, eh?
On my the list of scariest words a parent will ever hear along with: what's ALL this hair doing in the bathroom?!?
Unless, the kid actually does a gosh-darned pretty good job of it.
She claims to have gotten tired of dealing with ALL that mermaid hair, watched about a dozen YouTube tutorials on cutting naturally curly hair and, well, I envy her confidence (and her curls) even though I'll be vacuuming hair for about a month, or twenty.
ALTERNATE BLOG POST TITLE: Reason why I rushed out the front door early this morning and nearly beaned myself into unconsciousness (pro tip: check to make sure the storm door is actually unlocked!) I wanted to get this shot before the raindrops evaporated -- I blame all you more-expert-like photographers out there AND Instagr.am!
While visiting with another dear bloggy-type friend (Hey, Sue!) before heading home (SOB!) she drives you to one of her favorite photo walks, turns the corner and you cover your mouth with your hand...trying REAL HARD not to swallow your gum.
While on your way home and at the risk of being called out as an Out-of-Stater (or, Stay-tah if you're from New England) you randomly pull over, take a few minutes to balance yourself on the driver's side seat, hoping you remembered to pull the parking break (ahem) then hold your breath and try to capture that very moment...in one heartbeat or less.
After finishing perhaps the juiciest pear on the planet (seriously, you SHOULD be salivating) when one of your kids walks by, looks down at your plate and hollers:
[eyes go WIDE, slides teeth over teeth, checks for creepy crawlies]
"Let me get your camera!!!"
Aaaaand, after nearly 9 years of hitting the publish button, proving once again that old school bloggers never die, they're just busy trying to remember where in the h.e.double hockey sticks they put their camera, as said nearly-grown kids continue to provide you with some really gosh-darn good blog fodder.
Hey, thanks for stopping by! My name is Liz and I have been blogging at This Full House of mismatched socks and sticky floors since 2003. This is where I enjoy writing about the trials and tribulations of raising 3 teens, 1 tween and killer dust bunnies. Feel free to stay a while, but mind the killer dust bunnies -- THEY BITE!!!
Yes, We Deliver!
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