The Last 30 Miles

We are having a blast with family in Jersey. I hope your Thanksgiving was as wonderful as ours. I also hope that you did not spend 2-4am up with a 15 month old two nights ago. That was not cool. He did much better last night, which was good because Z and I were going to get rid of him if he didn’t. We are still pretty sleep deprived, got up at 5:30am today. But that is what travel with a three and one year old is. It’ll be easier in a couple of years.

A super fast story for you–our drive down was great until the last 30 miles. We hit Philly at 4:45pm on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Because we are smart like that. We hit that traffic about an hour after getting gas, and um, Starbucks. So I had to pee. We also were supposed to be at my cousins for dinner at 6pm. That was all that was asked of us-make it for dinner at 6. So we had 30 miles to go and over an hour to do it in. Philly. 4:45pm. The day before Thanksgiving. An hour later and we’d gone less than 12 miles. I had to pee worse than I ever had in my entire life. I was also in the middle of a pretty epic panic attack. The kind where you are rocking back and forth and unable to form coherent sentences. Finally the traffic started to clear up. The boys were crying, I was freaking, and Z was just trying to hold onto his sanity. And he made a wrong turn.

Ok. We are off the highway. I’m looking for the bright side-this means we will find somewhere that has a bathroom. The car hasn’t even come to a stop before I blast out of it and run into the gas station. A kid, late teens, is behind the counter. I ask him where the bathroom is. He tells me there isn’t one for customers. I ask very nicely. He tells me no. I begin to beg. He tells me he really can’t. But there is a diner up the road. I start to weep. Heavily. He stoically stands there, completely unmoved by the hysterical crazy woman standing in front of him. For about 30 second (which I am sure felt like an eternity to him) I couldn’t move. I just stood there and cried. Finally I turned and ran back to the car, still weeping. Z has the boys out of the car by that point (T hadn’t peed in about 5 hours-bladder of steel, that one). Z is yelling at me to just pee behind the building. I tell him no way, the guy said something about a diner. Z tells me to get in the car, he runs into the station and gets directions to the diner and off we go. T was in the backseat asking why I was crying, which only made me howl louder. I told him sometimes Mommy got really sad and that it was ok. Again I flew out of the still rolling car and into the diner, struggling to stop the flow of tears. The woman behind the counter could not have been kinder to my deranged self. She pointed to the ladies and off I went. Sweet Mary, it was an orgasmic pee.

And magically there was no traffic for the last 18 miles. We got there by about 6:15 and the pizza was delicious. I had a couple of slices from a white veggie pie that had dollops of ricotta on it. So good it gave me shivers. And we were with my cousins, their kids, my parents, and my uncle. Wonderful people, every last one of them. It feels really good to like your family. It feels really good to want to be around them and to want your kids to get to know them as well. I should probably go spend some more time with them all….

C made a new friend.  

Bronson is such a handsome gentleman. 
Yup, that’s a dog toy. Oh well.
And my boys were absolute champs on the drive down. I’m proud of both of them. It is hella hard to travel for the little guys. Z and I get frustrated, but we need to remember to give them, especially my big guy T, a shitload of credit. 
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