The family reunion we've just returned from was only two hours away, thank goodness. All considered, it wasn't too bad. Not as bad as the drive from the last family reunion. We had family bonding, time-outs every ten minutes because our sweet, uber-social daughter has recently decided to be a hitter, lots of good food, and lots of Olympics-watching.
We're still decompressing and unpacking. And lying in fetal position on the floor. Addison did pretty well in the car for about thirty minutes. And then she started getting claustrophobic (despite her skill at folding into small spaces) and so did I. We had the following conversation every five minutes until we got home:
Addison (screamed): I want to get OUT! OOUUUT!
Me (calmly): We're almost home. Do you want a book to read?
Addison (screamed): Noooo! Out! Out! OOOUUT!
Me (screamed): I can't take it! I'm going to jump out the window!
Addison (anguished): No! Not jump outta window!
Lindsay (severely): Nobody is jumping out the window. Okay?
Addison (whimpering): Okay.
Me (whimpering): Okay.
These pictures are actually from a couple months ago at my brother-in-law's graduation where he received a Master's degree in educational leadership. We were moving about 2 miles per hour for more than 20 minutes on campus roads, so we gave her a car seat break. And it's sure as heck what she wanted to be doing this time on the interstate, but her mom is a heartless monster who frowns upon high-speed defenestration.
