making memories

Tomorrow we will be heading out for a cross-country road trip - first vacation we’ve taken since I was pregnant with boy number three more than three years ago. It took this long to get up the guts to cross the state border. I’m still not sure if it’s bravery or insanity.

Right now, I’ve been trying to pack and plan how to keep all four boys occupied for the 26 hours we’ll be cooped in a vehicle on our way to Washington.

It’s been quite an ordeal - snacks, toys, books, books on tape, more snacks, crayons and coloring books, Adventures in Odyssey CDs, an atlas to track our progress west (typical homeschool mom trying to make this trip educational!) and of course, wet wipes.

I’m really not sure if any of this will help. I let the boys pick out their own snacks today at Wal-Mart - things I never normally buy. A total of $147 later, the cart was filled with Oreos, M&M’s, goldfish crackers, licorice, juice boxes, one bag of smushed potato chips (thanks to boy number three), candy necklaces, cheap toys that I can throw away when we get home (if they last that long) and even some of the cool animal crackers that come in their own little boxes.

The three who can comprehend the idea of snacks were catapulting with excitement in the middle of the snack aisle, much to my chagrin.

“Thank you so much, Mom!” I heard over and over. Who knew kids could get so excited about their own containers of Chips Ahoy and Nutter Butter cookies?

“Boy I can’t wait until Saturday!” one boy bellered, causing the lady in the aisle next to us to chuckle aloud.

I’m guessing by the time we hit North Dakota, the vehicle will be sticky with spilled juice, McDonald’s French fries and an assortment of cookie crumbs.

I keep telling myself “We’re making memories along with the messes.” That and reminding myself that my parents took seven kids cross-country in the opposite direction in a Plymouth Horizon hatchback in July.

And they survived.

Those were the days before seatbelt and car seat requirements. Maybe that explains it. Either that or we were just such well-behaved children that it was no big deal to take a family vacation in a vehicle smaller than one of our four-wheelers. (Somehow I doubt that).

I remember ice coming through the vents from the air conditioner. I remember writing signs on notebook paper to hold in the window as we passed cars. I remember waving at all the other vehicles from the back window - everyone had such big smiles. Back then, I thought people on freeways were just extraordinarily friendly. In reality, I’m guessing they had reactions much like my husband’s coworkers and many of my friends have had about our trip.

“Look at that! Look at all those kids! Can you imagine travelling with that many children? Are you crazy? Do you have a DVD player? No? Can’t you borrow one?”

Then they find out we’re camping on the way - for more than one night. That really boggles most people.

“Building memories,” I mutter, trying to convince myself at the same time.

There are four of us that are excited about camping along the way. (Yes, I would be the lone hold-out for a stay in a comfortable bed. Indoors. In a heated hotel room).

But we’re making memories.

I hope they include 75-degree weather, no rain, no bears, no bugs, no whining... Well, I can dream, can’t I? I wish I had even a tenth the enthusiasm about life that my boys do about “our vacation.” Wouldn’t this trip called life be exciting if we could look at it as a daily adventure?

Okay God, where are you taking me today? What big adventure do you have in store for me (if I’ll just open my eyes to see it)?
I wonder if he tires of hearing us whine, “Are we there yet?”

He’s planned our entire course with great care. The journey is almost as important as the destination. I think he too, likes to make memories.