Please stop screaming

I have learned something about traveling with children: you don't really take any true vacations anymore. You simply have a change in scenery. For obvious reasons, traveling with one child in tow is very different than traveling with three children all under the age of three in tow. Although Ella has become an expert on traveling etiquette (ok, so sometimes we cheat and pull out the portable DVD player), the twins have decided that riding in the car seat for more than 30 minutes is more than they can handle. Apparently 12 hours in the swagger wagon proved to be a bit ambitious for this mother of 19 month old twins...as evidence by the echoes of screaming, crying, and temper tantrum throwing that took place. But don't worry. I'm not stupid: I brought headphones along with me to drown out the waling from the back.

After the trip down to the sunshine state, I had pretty much decided I was flying back home. Andrew wasn't on board with this plan, so instead I guess I'll be giving the twins benadryl on the ride back tomorrow. I kid...ahem. I can't say I blame them. Twelve hours is long time to stare at palm trees and semi trucks. Unfortunately, the twins have also not come to appreciate the beauty in brain wasting cartoons. It will be a nice day when they can be entertained by Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Sleeping Beauty.

Anyway, we've had a glorious time away from home. Although we still have to care for the children, it is nice to have a few extra set of hands (aka-the grandparents...aka-heaven sent). We played hard and made memories. I took a few pretty pictures that I'll share later. And even though we weren't particularly restful this week, it was fun to just soak in some time together and watch our children enjoy life. That alone makes it worth the 24 hour roundtrip of fussing in the car. Three sets of little hands digging in the sand is one of the most beautiful sites.

So, do me a favor? Pray for a little more peaceful drive home tomorrow. Otherwise I will have a permanent dent on my forehead from the number of times I bang my head on the dashboard. Either that or send a limo to my in-laws home to take me home. Better yet, just send me two plane tickets to send the twins back home on and tell them I'll pick them up at the Atlanta airport.