Slice of Life Stories hosted
I'm sitting in my parents' living room. Feet up. And exhausted. But I'm happy about being here.
My parents "retired" over twelve years ago. Up and left. Leaving behind my brother and I in Illinois. (Okay, not really that dramatic. There was quite a bit of planning involved in the process.)
They now live 570 miles away. About 9 hours. A long, long way to Arkansas.
After having my girls two years ago, my mom and dad have made numerous trips north to visit. So, a couple months ago, my mom hesitantly inquired about the possibility of bringing the girls down for a visit this summer.
I thought it was a great idea -- until I thought about the drive! There was no way my hubby was going to be able to take time off. So, how could I possibly manage driving that far with two little ones? Well, it worked out that my mom was able to come up to my house and then drive back down with me to help take care of the girls during the long car ride. Thank you Mom! And Dad for letting her come up again!
I wasn't sure what to expect traveling with two two-year-olds. But we did it! They were such troopers! Our trip took us about eleven hours with the additional stops, leg stretches, diaper changes, and longer lunch. It was filled with naming everything they saw, asking "What's that?" if they didn't know, songs to sing, cartoons to watch, staring out the window, quiet times, some screaming when baby dolls or snack cups dropped, and a (short) peaceful nap.
A long ride, but worth every bit of exhaustion because . . .
I'm 'home.' Home with my mom and dad and girls. Home is where the heart is. Home is family.