I’m happy to say as I type this we are crossing the border of Florida. This far I have survived, but barely. We were on the road for 18 hours yesterday. UGH!! We planned for 16 hours, and the extra two hours just about did me in. All in all the day was pleasant. We all took turns driving, and Sean was really good for a two year old cooped up in a car all day. No complaints there. The problem came when the rain started about half-way through the trip. And never stopped. Here we were worried about a possible Midwest snowstorm to hinder our travels in January, and instead God sent us rain. Lots of it. I’m talking hydroplaning kind of downfalls. And wind that whipped our 2000lb+ SUV across the lanes. Scary stuff at times. And it seemed like Valdosta kept getting farther and farther away. The last three hours of an eighteen hour stretch are v e r y l o n g. We all got a little punchy in between downpours, and talked about everything under the sun to keep Jeff awake at the wheel. We finally rolled into Valdosta at 1:30am.
My hope was Sean would be so dead to the world I could just plop him into his pack ‘n’ play and we could crawl into bed and be fast asleep by 2am. Um, no. He promptly woke up and wanted to explore and play in this new space. We tried having him sleep in our bed. Nope. We tried leaving him in his pack ‘n’ play. Nope. We tried snuggling with him on the chair. Nope. By 3am I was in tears. A good old ‘oh. my. God. why have you forsaken me?’ cry. Jeff rolled over and concerned asked, “what’s wrong?” I said, “We have to sleep! We’ve ruined this whole vacation” I know, just a tad melodramatic. But come on, I’d been awake for20 hours and seriously questioning why anyone would think to even get in a car, let alone drive for 1000 miles in one day with a two-year old. The soothing rhythm of my sobbing must have calmed the little stinker down, and he finally laid down and went to sleep. Either that or God took pity on me.
Sorry, no photos today. You really don't want to see the carnage anyway :-(
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