If at first you don't succeed

Give Up! I mean it. Don't even think about getting in the car with three kids and trying to drive 7 hours. Instead, find the closest rock and climb under it. This will be a lot more comfortable than an SUV stuffed with suitcases, toys, baby gear and worst of all, your own children.

Now don't get me wrong. I love my children, and frankly, I am an old pro at driving long distances with children. In fact, I have been known to drive 15 hours straight from Springfield, Illinois to an undisclosed location just outside Charlotte, North Carolina (Monroe), stopping only to feed Benjy, visit the restroom, and let Jacob play. Granted, this feat usually involved my sometimes friend Mr. RedBull, and about 4 books on CD that I had borrowed from our local public library. However, not even I was woman enough, nay Mommy enough, to complete this latest trip home with my children.

On Sunday afternoon, all my children were suddenly well. Benjy had been fighting fevers for three days, but he was finally rid of them and was playing normally again. Andrew had come down with something for two days but was once again his smiley, happy self. Jacob had never been sick but had enjoyed staying inside during his brothers' illness. I kept finding him in a corner hunched over his Nintendo DS. He would look up at me and grin tentatively expecting me to shut it down. Sometimes I did, but most of the time I was just happy he wasn't aggravating Benjy or making a mess. Yes, things had been hectic since my last travel attempt, but Sunday afternoon was calm--too calm.

So I scrambled to get all of our stuff together again, which didn't take too long since I had never unpacked from my last failed departure. I know what you're thinking. I should have waited a day to see if everyone was truly over their sickness. You're right. I probably should have. But after being stuck inside for three days, I was ready to get back to my plans. Plus, Mom and Dad had only committed to being in town until August 15. That gave me a narrow window of opportunity to actually see them at home. More importantly, given our schedule and their penchant for hitting the road within a moments notice, there was no guarantee I might be able to visit them again before we head off to Mexico. So I did what any rational person would do. I made Chris load my stuff and my kids, and then I hit the road.

The first 45 miles went well other than the fact that I missed my exit from I-495 to I-66 because of poor signage due to construction. Jacob tried to give me driving tips from the backseat which was even more annoying than Vicky, my GPS, who kept repeating insistently, "When possible make a U-turn." I'm not sure which one, Vicky or Jacob, I wanted to throw out the window more. Lucky for them, just when I had reached my limit, we got back on track. Benjy and Andrew were smart and went to sleep.

I heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed into my seat as I put the greater D.C. area traffic behind me and cruised into rural Virginia. This isn't going to be so bad after all, I thought, eying the kids in the backseat. I was just finishing patting myself on the back for my excellent planning and timing, when Andrew woke up. I had been hoping he would sleep the whole way. At first it was a small cry. Maybe he will cry himself back to sleep, I thought. But after a while, it became more persistent, growing increasingly more hysterical with each passing minute. Clearly, I was wrong. By the time I was able to pull over, he was hoarse from the crying. Amazingly enough, as soon as I lifted him from his seat, he smiled and cooed at me. Little rascal.

I tried to nurse him, but he wasn't hungry. So instead, I took everyone out of the car for a bathroom break. We were stopped anyway, so I thought it best to get it over with. Then I loaded everyone back up, and we hit the road again. Only a 20 minute delay so far.

This is the point where my life began to repeat.

Two minutes down the road, Andrew started screaming again. I repeated all the previous thoughts and steps, all with the same results. This time however, I had to factor in a tummy ache for Benjy, which made this bathroom trip a frantic sprint across the gas station parking lot. I guess that's why people kept nervously jumping out of my way and holding doors for me. Either that, or they saw a crazed look in my eyes. We made it to the bathroom without an accident, but of course, by the time we got there, Benjy no longer needed to go. Urrrr.

OK. Back to the car, but not before Benjy smashed his finger in the bathroom door. It wasn't a bad smash, and running cold water over it quieted his tears after a few minutes.

OK. Now back to the car, by way of the chip aisle. All the loading and unloading was wearing me out, and I thought maybe some Salt and Vinegar potato chips would boost my sagging spirit. But Jacob tugged on my hand and asked to get back to the car. Now Jacob is never one to turn down snacks, so I eyed him suspiciously. That's when I noticed that he looked pale. He said his head hurt, so I felt his forehead, and of course, it was really hot. I begrudgingly decided to forgo my snack and returned to the car empty handed--well, as empty handed as you can be when you're wearing a baby and holding two other kids' hands. I gave Jacob Tylenol, loaded everyone, and again set off down the road heading south.

As soon as all four tires hit the interstate, Andrew started screaming again. Now I know that those of you who know Andrew will find this hard to believe. Most of you have only observed a pleasant, happy boy, who loves to laugh and look around. Some of you have even dared to ask me if he ever cries. You've heard me brag about how he sleeps through the night. (It's true; he does. I know, I always thought those people that said their kids did that were either lying or mis-remembering.) But Andrew has one tragic flaw. One Achilles heel, if you will. The car is his undoing, and at this point, it's mine too.






(This doesn't look like such a bad way to travel, does it? )









Now I'm stubborn (Benjy has to get it from someone, right?), but even I have my limits. And I was frustrated and mad and emotional. How long can a baby possibly cry before he succumbs to exhaustion? Apparently, a long time. I think he cried at least half of the 5 hours we were gone, in spurts of course, since my nerves could only take it in 30 minute increments. At 94 miles from home and another repeat stop, I decided to call it a day and head back north. I still had 300 miles to go to get to my parents house. Jacob was sick, Andrew was rotten, and God only knew how many more times I would have to stop for Benjy to go potty. The 94 miles back to Falls Church seemed like the lesser of two evils, even if it meant I had wussed out.

I stopped twice more on the way home. Once I stopped just to hold Andrew and calm him down. And once I stopped to let Benjy go to the bathroom. Andrew did finally pass out around 10 p.m., but by that point I was almost home. He woke up for a quick wail two more times, just to remind me that he was unhappy with the direction his life was taking him at the moment.

Chris, wisely, did not have much to say about my Sunday evening "joy ride." He unloaded the kids and the car just as quickly as he had loaded it.

Today, Jacob is still running a fever off and on. Half of his day has been like this, and half has been like that.