Road Trip

We have just returned from a fun-filled, sun soaked mini vacation to Georgia/South Carolina. Scott’s sister and her family (some of my favorite people in the world) live down in SC so we went down to visit with them.

The Mud Puddle is a world class traveler, I believe in large part to all of the miles he logged in-uetro (I tell him he HAS been to Florida, it was just in my belly) and the first year and a half of his life (driving everyday to daycare in the city was about an hour and a half round trip).
I can only relate some of his antics second hand as I flew home on my own the day before the boys. I had been praying that any weather related delays (Ice Storm ’07 dun, dun) would effect my travel as I have spent plenty of hours ‘stranded’ in an airport and am actually pretty good just hanging out (as long as I have a book, magazine or journal handy). Wouldn’t you know that my travel was met with no delays whilst the boys took about 11 hours to get home.

The story I was told was that even in the midst of sitting around the terminal or on the plan on the tarmac, the Mud Puddle was actually pretty well behaved.
First, he didn’t want to leave Georgia. And really who can blame him? It was sunny and 70, we were in a hotel with a pool, he got to jump from bed to bed and make pillow volcanoes (which he shot Ellie out of – poor Ellie) and spend time with family that he adores and rarely gets to see.
He did get on the first plane with little fuss then however decide that he liked Detroit and wanted to live at the airport. Scott of course told him no, you can’t live in the airport to which the Mud Puddle responded ‘but they have food’. Oh ok, then by all means shack up in the Motor City and see how well that goes for you.

On the way down he was a peach, and this was after being awoken at 4 bloody a.m. to catch our 6 a.m. flight (I can count on one hand the number of people I would do THAT for). First half of the journey he looked out the window, we read an I Spy book (he likes me to look with him and give him hints when he can’t find the thing) and just kept each other entertained. The second flight – he was out like a light before we were wheels up. I was out ten seconds after that.

Traveling with a small child is, like everything else in Parent Land, is a crap shoot. What if this is the one time he decides that he has to scream his head off all the way to wherever you are going? I remember one flight I took to Orlando (eight times in one year, not my idea of the happiest place on earth) there was a little girl who literally screamed the entire three hours.
Seriously. The child screamed herself hoarse and there wasn’t a damn thing her parents could do to calm her down. It was unbelievable. And whenever we start planning a trip (he has flown a whopping two times in his life) I think about that little girl and her poor parents. Business people, as a rule, are usually already cranky about flying and having that on top of it? You have got a plane full of well dressed angry men.

We have talked about flying to Hawaii for a vacation (if you ever get the chance, do it) but even though he is the best flying four year old I have met, it is hard to imagine 12 hours or so on a plane with him. That would be pushing our luck a little too much I think.