Home again, home again jiggity pig

Holy cow, thirteen hours in the car is a dadgum pickin long time.

We got in Sunday night around 11 and I was so glad to be out of that car. Michael drove the final three hours and he got to experience driving in traffic, rain and the dark; it was an excellent opportunity for him to realize driving is hard work. While he does feel the need for speed occasionally (actually always) last night he showed us he has been listening to our instructions. He’s turning into a great driver.

We tried a new route – up 75 to Florence, Kentucky where we cut over to Indianapolis to pick up 69. When we try new ways the only thing I care about is that they make the trip shorter. So far I haven’t found any that fit my five hour criteria. Kind of hard to cram 800 miles in 300 minutes, I realize but a girl can dream. The only time I’ve been able to get the drive under 12 hours is when I did it solo and didn’t stop for six hours straight. Probably not the smartest move of my life but I did pull in the driveway in under 11 ½ hours. And yes, when I got home it was a good thing no one got in between me and the bathroom.

The kids were troopers, Sean, as always, loved the ride, and I did pretty well, too, if I do say so myself. I made it to hour #7 before I felt I would lose it if we were in the car much longer. Usually that happens by hour #5 so I’m excited about that little bit of personal growth. I might have handled things even better if we hadn’t been traveling on Sunday. I hate driving on Sundays because that means Chick-fil-A isn’t an option for lunch or dinner. A CFA nugget, some cole slaw and a diet Coke can fix a world of hurt. (Okay, not really but they sure are tasty.)

The washing machine’s already going with a load of darks and I’m heading out to the grocery store. Cleaning the house and washing and folding clothes will follow… I think I like vacation better!