Happy Thanksgiving Week!

Many moons ago we watched as people packed up their minivans, loaded the kids and drove over the meadow and through the woods to celebrate Thanksgiving with family. Sean and I would look at each other with knowing glances, thanking the good Lord we weren’t one of those poor folk who had to travel to see family and friends for holidays. We even felt sorry for my sister who lived four hours away; her family had such a long drive to get home for the turkey. We hardly knew how they handled it.

Fast forward a few years and lookie here: we’re the ones loading up our CUV, packing the kids in like sardines, hitting the road to be with loved ones for Thanksgiving. We made the annual trek last Saturday; it wasn’t as horrible as it could have been but holy cow, 12 hours in the car is a dadgum long time. When you factor in the 14 year old boy who acts out entire movie scenes from memory (if I hear, “Hello, I am King Julian!” from Madagascar II one more time I’ll tear my hair out), the 12-going-on-18 year old girl who’s very concerned her hair is messed up (the man in the Shelbyville, TN Shell station does not care that if the ponytails are even) and the 8 year old girl who manages to lose her coat and shoes between stops, making her last to the bathroom when she should be the first, well, it’s just a long, long ride.

But we made it once again with no accidents or tickets or marriage-ending arguments, and for those things we are grateful.

We’ve already seen four grandparents, two nephews, a niece, an aunt and uncle and several friends. Tomorrow brings a visit with more friends and the arrival of a great aunt, great uncle and my sister’s family. The rest of the week is crazy-busy, but a good kind of crazy-busy.

As I type I’m yawning and Sean’s just turned out the light. I suppose he is right to try and sleep now; my parents’ house will be packed tomorrow and I know we’ll want to stay up all night visiting. The thought of that makes the 12 hours in the car worthwhile.