Weekend Trip
We spent last weekend in Charlottesville, Virginia. Why? Eh, no real reason. I wanted to see Monticello again, Chris wanted to see Monticello in the daylight, and we all wanted to just get the heck out of town and break our weekend routine of Costco/Target/gymnastics/birthday parties/church.
So, why not?
We booked a hotel with an indoor pool, which OF COURSE was the highlight for my girls. That and the bagel shop. We drove down on Friday afternoon, came back on Sunday, and jammed as much as possible into the trip . . . but it didn't FEEL like jamming. It was all quite spontaneous, which is miraculous. Because we are not spontaneous people.
We hit four wineries across the 3 days. (We deliberately did NOT go to Trump Winery, on principle.) We toured Monticello, let the girls run around the University of Virginia grounds, promenaded along downtown C'ville, and watched the girls dance to bluegrass music.
We genuinely had fun. It was quite a revelation, discovering that Charlotte and Lorelei are now old enough to not be entirely balls of work. They're funny. They can be charming. They got along (mostly). They were so easily enchanted with the idea of an indoor pool. They got to pick their own flavor of cream cheese! It's the little things. Don't judge me for writing this, because it makes me sound like a shitty mom, but I was kind of surprised by how much I enjoyed my children during our trip. I know, I know. "They're not that young forever, treasure every moment, blah blah blah." Guess what? Not every moment is enjoyable. (Why can't we admit that? Why must we erase that truth with a chipper "but, seriously, so blessed!" Retch.)
It's like our family is emerging for survival mode (e.g., "Pull over, I have to nurse the screaming child," or "I wish this baby would just SLEEP!" or "We can't go there, [child] needs her nap," or "Did you remember to pack the sippy cup? we can't go into a restaurant without a sippy cup!" or "OMG, did we forget a pacifier?!" or "She just crapped her pants again. Where are the wipes? Wait, we're out of wipes?!" or "Lorelei just threw up on me and we have a 6-hour flight that's boarding! I won't survive this!" You get the idea.) Perhaps we can start rebuilding our sanity? Dare I hope?
(My brother and his wife will be having their first baby soon. A little part of me giggles with big-sister glee at what he has coming.)
So, why not exploit the occasional weekend trip? With our families so far away, traveling has always been a Big Deal, involving flights and vacation time and beach rentals and coordination with other folks. And expense. It need not be such a big freaking deal--although, for the children? For them, it IS a big freaking deal. In a good way.
Okay, time for book reports.
Charlotte and I just (as in, tonight) finished Unusual Chickens for the Exceptional Poultry Farmer. I'm pondering what our next long book will be.
I finished A Lantern in Her Hand that ended with a bit too much earnest sappiness, but whatever. I still liked it. I'm still plugging away at Laura Lamont's Life in Pictures, which has lost its luster for me and I'm ready for it to be done. I'm almost there. I'm also in the midst of The Fortune Hunter by Daisy Goodwin, which is kind of enjoyable and a bit Downtown Abbey-esque, but the pace is a little too slow and I'm just not as into it as I expected to be.
So, why not?
We booked a hotel with an indoor pool, which OF COURSE was the highlight for my girls. That and the bagel shop. We drove down on Friday afternoon, came back on Sunday, and jammed as much as possible into the trip . . . but it didn't FEEL like jamming. It was all quite spontaneous, which is miraculous. Because we are not spontaneous people.
We hit four wineries across the 3 days. (We deliberately did NOT go to Trump Winery, on principle.) We toured Monticello, let the girls run around the University of Virginia grounds, promenaded along downtown C'ville, and watched the girls dance to bluegrass music.
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| Bagels. A ridiculously big highlight. |
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| The only nap they got. |
It's like our family is emerging for survival mode (e.g., "Pull over, I have to nurse the screaming child," or "I wish this baby would just SLEEP!" or "We can't go there, [child] needs her nap," or "Did you remember to pack the sippy cup? we can't go into a restaurant without a sippy cup!" or "OMG, did we forget a pacifier?!" or "She just crapped her pants again. Where are the wipes? Wait, we're out of wipes?!" or "Lorelei just threw up on me and we have a 6-hour flight that's boarding! I won't survive this!" You get the idea.) Perhaps we can start rebuilding our sanity? Dare I hope?
(My brother and his wife will be having their first baby soon. A little part of me giggles with big-sister glee at what he has coming.)
So, why not exploit the occasional weekend trip? With our families so far away, traveling has always been a Big Deal, involving flights and vacation time and beach rentals and coordination with other folks. And expense. It need not be such a big freaking deal--although, for the children? For them, it IS a big freaking deal. In a good way.
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| Lorelei waaay too excited to be sharing a bed with her sister. |
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| The girls got to play the accordion. |
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| After much dancing, she took a break with her lollipop. |
Okay, time for book reports.
Charlotte and I just (as in, tonight) finished Unusual Chickens for the Exceptional Poultry Farmer. I'm pondering what our next long book will be.
I finished A Lantern in Her Hand that ended with a bit too much earnest sappiness, but whatever. I still liked it. I'm still plugging away at Laura Lamont's Life in Pictures, which has lost its luster for me and I'm ready for it to be done. I'm almost there. I'm also in the midst of The Fortune Hunter by Daisy Goodwin, which is kind of enjoyable and a bit Downtown Abbey-esque, but the pace is a little too slow and I'm just not as into it as I expected to be.
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