|"Are we there yet?"|
As seasoned road warriors we didn’t hesitate to travel to the coast with our then, 2-year old daughter Justice. Though we had already traveled to 48 states this was our first time with a child and to pull our RV. There would be a lot of time spent on the road so I mentioned to the husband that we should probably buy a portable DVD player. I figured it would make the long trip easier on the little one. He said it wasn’t worth it and that we had enough toys packed that she’d be fine. I wasn’t as confident as him.
On our way to the Gulf of Mexico with our truck loaded down with snacks, toys and CDs we thought we were set. But halfway into our trip Justice was tired of being strapped into her car seat and wanted out. Taking her fussing as a cue to stop for lunch, we found a nice park, wedged our truck and 5th wheel between a few trees. And the three of us moved into the RV. I made sandwiches and we watched the wildlife out of the dining room window as we ate. It was just what we all needed.
We stretched our legs, let Justice run around for a bit and after a few games of chase decided it was time to load up. She wasn’t too happy, but she didn’t put up much of a fight… till about 10-minutes later. Then we could do nothing to please her. At one point I moved to the back seat to try to sooth her, but nothing worked for very long. The last 2-hours of the trip were very stressful. I used that moment to remind the husband of my suggestion of a DVD player. That might not have been the time to remind him.
As we pulled into Rockport to visit my family and the local beaches we soon forgot about the stress of traveling with a little one. We spent several days on the shoreline letting her explore the sand and water. All three of us relaxing on the beach thinking things couldn’t get much better… and then it was time for another 4-hour drive to visit friends.
Justice was content for an hour or so, but the screaming started again. At one point I remember laying my head against the headrest and my right hand on the door handle. I suggesting to Tommy that maybe he could slow the truck down to about 55 miles an hour. I was pretty confident I could survive jumping out of the truck at that speed. He inquired which one of us was going to steer the truck then, because he was having the same thoughts.
Read the rest at: Joy Comes in the Morning...
|Screaming on the way to the beach is exhausting work. ;)|