On Sunday, we went to church with van loaded to the gills--and I am amazed at how much luggage it takes, even when limiting each child to one small backpack, and doing two to three loads of laundry daily, to take seven people on vacation--then departed immediately after Mass.
We were off to Myrtle Beach!
Chris' parents had rented a condo on the water and generously invited us to join them.
I don't think we've been on a family vacation for three years since our neighbors lent us their Hilton Head condo, and the drive down reminded me why I have since stayed home with all children younger than six years old, leaving Chris to take road trips alone with the older set. Driving with tiny tots is so unpleasant!
At one point on the drive, when we'd driven through many swamps already, a thought popped into my head.
Katherine: "Honey, Myrtle Beach isn't one of those places with alligators, is it?"
Chris: "Ummmmm . . . yeah?"
Katherine: "What? Again?! What do you take me to these places?"
Then I began furiously searching on my iPhone, reading about all the alligators in Myrtle Beach, including the one the prior year who emerged straight out of the ocean, sauntered up on the beach, and the police were called.
Arrived at the condo |
We arrived by 7:30, making it a five-hour drive which ain't too shabby in "Kid Time" for what should be a three-and-a-half hour drive.
Reading at bedtime |
Quick hellos and unpacking of luggage were quickly followed by bedtime.
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