About a week ago at the
dinner table, Andy and I chatted about some of the things we used to do before
we had kids, things we enjoyed then somehow stopped making time for. It was a
small list comprised of things like going for runs together, road trips, watching
a movie on a work night, etc. And we
knew it wasn’t the babies who were getting in the way of these things; it was
basically just us feeling limited or lazy or TIRED, tired allllll the time. We also realized that with each child, the
temptation to never leave the house again just grows. So we got all brave and excited and booked a
hotel in Hilton Head, well, two hotels because most were already booked for the
holiday weekend. We packed all the STUFF and planned to leave early Friday morning. There is no greater packing list than the ones
for babies and beaches. It’s blows my mind, all three postpartum brain cells I
have left.
We were on the road
early. We got coffees and filled the car
with gas. Brite slept, as she tends to
do. And Marin yelled “Fwuck!” with each
passing truck. Oh baby pronunciations,
how I wuv you. We stopped for lunch in
Macon then jumped in the car for the last three-hour leg of the trip. Oh, and there was screaming. But we knew there would be, so we just tried
to tend to the needs and stay the course…with out “uh, you think she is hungry
again?” And “C’mon, let’s pull over.” We were more like “She just ate and
burped…she is fine.” Bam.
At one point there was an
amazing and magical game of crying ping pong going on back there. One would scream and wake the other; then the
other would scream out of frustration for being woken up. Imagine that
lovely hour and a half. Marin
eventually got over the fact that she was only getting a twenty minute nap
instead of her usual hour, and Brite eventually settled too. We drove across the bridge to the island with
the windows down and happy babies.
We checked into our hotel.
Marin ran into the room chatting about her “seaside holiday” with hotel
wonderment. She jumped on the beds and
climbed on the couches. She dialed random
numbers on the phone by the bed. “Uh oh, Mommy, man on phone. Uh oh.” Oops, haha. What is a hotel stay with out a prank call or
two anyway?
That night we walked to a
nearby restaurant and sat in a shady spot outside. There was live music and a setting sun. Marin
drank her weight in chocolate milk. Andy and I split a rum and coke. We danced in our seats to “Brown Eyed Girl”
and “Chicken Fried.” After dinner we
attempted a walk to the beach but turned around once Andy discovered it was a
mile and a half walk with a toddler who wanted to be carried the WHOLE way. We decided to drive instead.
We pulled up to the beach
and let Marin run her heart out. She was
the most joyful and free I’ve ever seen her, and that does something to a
mama’s heart. I never watched the ocean
less. She was phenomenal out there. We stayed for an hour before Andy ended up
giving a soaked toddler his shirt. With
two shivering comrades, we were off to warm showers and bedtime.
I woke up early to get ready
for the day and find coffee. We took the
morning slow, packed up our things and headed to the beach. Everything about getting to the actual sand
and shore was a process, Andy took the tent and bags while I nursed the baby
and Marin pushed every button in the car.
The four of us walked to the beach together on a record breaking windy
day. Another record broken…the amount of
time a toddler can play with a single solitary sand bucket. It was pure joy for her and pure joy for us
to watch. We are still learning our
daily rhythm with two kids at home, so a day at the beach felt like a gold
medal in some sort of parenting triathlon. We played and dodged sand storms for
three hours. It was glorious.
After the beach, we made our
way to our second hotel, which happened to be beach front. Hip hip hooray! We toyed with the idea of driving to dinner,
but opted for room service on our balcony, running on the beach, and swimming
instead. We ended the night with
swimming and watched Marin wear her floaties and swim on her “OWN!” Imagine
legs moving like a frog, but not in synchrony.
Precious and hilarious. The
choice bribe for getting her out of the pool was ice cream. She gobbled it down while Andy got the
remaining luggage from the car. We ended
the day with salty skin and hair, ice cream covered lips, and worn out
muscles.
This road trip will always
be one of my favorites. It wasn’t just a
road trip; it was the four of us learning to go on adventures, no matter how
much STUFF and SNACKS and screaming there might be to get there.
I could cry that I get to
keep the memory of it. Perfect. Oh and not a single baby scream on the drive
home…amazing.
