We left Boston yesterday, headed for DC. For some reason, we had it in our minds that the trip would take 6 hours. It took about 12. Here's how.
First of all, I don't know where the 6-hour figure came from, but it wasn't correct to begin with. It's more like an 8-hour drive, so there was that.
Then there was the fact that we forgot that kids make everything take seven times as long than it would for two adults by themselves. Seriously, SEVEN TIMES AS LONG. Packing. Walking down to the car. Getting in the car. Programming Nigel the GPS (because you have to narrate everything you do to the 4-year-old in the backseat). Eating. Putting on mittens. You name it - it takes longer.
And then there was the poo. Oh, the poo. I've never had much of an opinion of Rhode Island before, but we sure formed some strong associations on this trip. We stopped in Providence to get some food and everyone (except me) seemed to suddenly feel the urge to empty their bowels. They all took it in turns, of course, so it used up the maximum amount of precious time that we could have been traveling. Jeremy went first and it took FOREVER (sorry, Jeremy, but you know it's true). Then Miriam piped up and said she had to go. She also took forever (see the seven times longer rule, above).
We were just about to hit the road again when, on a whim, I decided to check Magdalena's diaper, just in case. As I checked it, I got poo on my hand. Yes. Magdalena doesn't have blowouts very often anymore, but she had chosen this opportune moment to reintroduce the practice.
Forty-five minutes later, we were finally on our way again, just in time to hit massive traffic for the hundred miles or so before New York City. I'm not sure how the math works out, but somehow, the ETA on Nigel the GPS stayed the same for about three hours, even though we were on the road and "moving" (barely) the whole time. It was like we were stuck in some kind of travel death trap time warp, constantly still four hours away from our destination.
But we made it, after 12 hours on the road and only slightly worse (and slightly poopier) for the wear. I guess it could have been worse. I just don't want to know how.
First of all, I don't know where the 6-hour figure came from, but it wasn't correct to begin with. It's more like an 8-hour drive, so there was that.
Then there was the fact that we forgot that kids make everything take seven times as long than it would for two adults by themselves. Seriously, SEVEN TIMES AS LONG. Packing. Walking down to the car. Getting in the car. Programming Nigel the GPS (because you have to narrate everything you do to the 4-year-old in the backseat). Eating. Putting on mittens. You name it - it takes longer.
And then there was the poo. Oh, the poo. I've never had much of an opinion of Rhode Island before, but we sure formed some strong associations on this trip. We stopped in Providence to get some food and everyone (except me) seemed to suddenly feel the urge to empty their bowels. They all took it in turns, of course, so it used up the maximum amount of precious time that we could have been traveling. Jeremy went first and it took FOREVER (sorry, Jeremy, but you know it's true). Then Miriam piped up and said she had to go. She also took forever (see the seven times longer rule, above).
We were just about to hit the road again when, on a whim, I decided to check Magdalena's diaper, just in case. As I checked it, I got poo on my hand. Yes. Magdalena doesn't have blowouts very often anymore, but she had chosen this opportune moment to reintroduce the practice.
Forty-five minutes later, we were finally on our way again, just in time to hit massive traffic for the hundred miles or so before New York City. I'm not sure how the math works out, but somehow, the ETA on Nigel the GPS stayed the same for about three hours, even though we were on the road and "moving" (barely) the whole time. It was like we were stuck in some kind of travel death trap time warp, constantly still four hours away from our destination.
But we made it, after 12 hours on the road and only slightly worse (and slightly poopier) for the wear. I guess it could have been worse. I just don't want to know how.