LLV Day Five: Misery Does End
(Sorry I took a little longer to post this one. I got distracted reading Brisingr, and it's kind of a long book-- took up all my free time and then some. But I'm finished now so I'll wrap this up.)
Ah, the last day of our so-called vacation. Even from the beginning this was the day I had dreaded because the original plan called for us to get up early and make the straight drive from Park City back home. Long, long day in the car.
My dad was successful in getting a new motor home on Saturday and brought it up to Park City without incident, so we were hopeful that the trip would go just fine. None of us could really afford to have it go awry-- some of the group absolutely had to be back to work on Monday, so even a one day delay was not acceptable.
I got most of our stuff packed up and ready to go Saturday night. My dad wanted to leave at 8am Utah time, and when my dad gives you a time that he wants to leave, he doesn't mean Mormon Standard Time, trust me. I woke up at my normal before-the-roosters-crow time, so I had time enough to even shower and have all of my family ready to go. My sisters also know my father well, so we actually had all our luggage at the top of the four flights of stairs, ready to be ferried to the motor home by 7:30 am. (That's no mean feat when you consider how many young kids also needed attention during this time. I'm kind of proud of it!)
The trip from Park City began without any incident, until I figured out that with the new motor home's configuration, I couldn't plug in the Playstation. The cord just wouldn't reach the outlet. Now, with everything we'd been through, this might seem like a paltry complaint, but we nearly had a meltdown of nuclear proportions from both boys. Not a good way to start a twelve hour journey.
After a hurried cell phone conference, it was decided that Terence would stop and get an extension cord for the motor home, the Sabbath notwithstanding. (The ox was in the mire, as far as we were concerned. Nobody even wanted to think of trying to deal with J and Bryson for that long without video games.) My dad was in no mood to stop, probably for fear that we'd never get out of Utah, but he agreed that we would stop in Beaver and pick up the extension cord from the others.
Our trip went extremely smoothly, except for the difficult task of entertaining the boys and B. All three were restless and challenging to entertain. Things went well for the group in the truck, and they actually beat us to Beaver. I relayed the message of where they were to my father, and we arrived in Beaver shortly thereafter. My dad stopped at a different gas station and we jumped out to grab a quick lunch for the kids. I was relieved that my time of trying to deal with J climbing all over me was at an end.
I busied myself trying to feed the kids while Dad started us on the way. When I finally came to my senses I realized my father was speeding down the freeway away from Beaver.
So much for picking up the extension cord. Oh, well. We resigned ourselves to another couple of hours of no electronic babysitting.
I should also mention one tiny little fact about my travel in a motor home. I'm kind of susceptible to motion sickness. It's only gotten steadily worse as I've gotten older (if it continues at this rate, by the time I'm sixty I won't be able to walk down the street without vomiting.) It wasn't nearly so bad on the way up because I sat in the front seat. However, that was kind of a stressful place to sit too, so I relinquished the spot to my mother on the way home. On the good side, I was a lot less anxious when I couldn't see how fast we were going and how many cars we were passing. On the bad side, by the time we reached Kanab I was feeling profoundly ill with a splitting headache to boot.
We did pick up the extension cord at Kanab, and I tried to medicate myself with ice cream, my favorite panacea. Even that didn't work, so I resorted to something I'm halfway ashamed of now. After six months of refraining from reading while I eat (my own personal addiction), I gave in and snacked while I read Becoming Jane essentially all the way home. I fell off the wagon after six months! Oh well. Something had to be done or I think I would have been far, far more miserable.
(Speaking of being miserably ill, I forgot to mention one other tidbit of trip misfortune. Friday night my brother-in-law got sick and spent the rest of the trip pretty much curled up and unable to function. Now the vacation may have been hard for all of us, but I'm pretty sure the winner for wretchedness was Ryan.)
But like all things, even this longest-of-short-trips came to an end. We reached my parents' house not long after 7 pm and Terence had our stuff transferred from the motor home to the van in lightning speed. I had to drive the van home myself while Terence drove our pickup (we had left both cars at my parents' place,) so by the time I got home, my dull, throbbing headache had become a hammer pounding the anvil kind of pain. I don't even think I bothered to have the kids brush their teeth. In fact, I don't remember that evening any more at all. I must have been functioning in a stupor.
However, I woke up snug and happy in my bed in the morning, none the worse for wear. All's well that ends well, right? And at the very least, now you all have been treated to a long sermon persuading you never to rent a RV.
Now, if only my parents can get El Monte to refund some of the charges. Heaven knows they deserve it.
Ah, the last day of our so-called vacation. Even from the beginning this was the day I had dreaded because the original plan called for us to get up early and make the straight drive from Park City back home. Long, long day in the car.
My dad was successful in getting a new motor home on Saturday and brought it up to Park City without incident, so we were hopeful that the trip would go just fine. None of us could really afford to have it go awry-- some of the group absolutely had to be back to work on Monday, so even a one day delay was not acceptable.
I got most of our stuff packed up and ready to go Saturday night. My dad wanted to leave at 8am Utah time, and when my dad gives you a time that he wants to leave, he doesn't mean Mormon Standard Time, trust me. I woke up at my normal before-the-roosters-crow time, so I had time enough to even shower and have all of my family ready to go. My sisters also know my father well, so we actually had all our luggage at the top of the four flights of stairs, ready to be ferried to the motor home by 7:30 am. (That's no mean feat when you consider how many young kids also needed attention during this time. I'm kind of proud of it!)
The trip from Park City began without any incident, until I figured out that with the new motor home's configuration, I couldn't plug in the Playstation. The cord just wouldn't reach the outlet. Now, with everything we'd been through, this might seem like a paltry complaint, but we nearly had a meltdown of nuclear proportions from both boys. Not a good way to start a twelve hour journey.
After a hurried cell phone conference, it was decided that Terence would stop and get an extension cord for the motor home, the Sabbath notwithstanding. (The ox was in the mire, as far as we were concerned. Nobody even wanted to think of trying to deal with J and Bryson for that long without video games.) My dad was in no mood to stop, probably for fear that we'd never get out of Utah, but he agreed that we would stop in Beaver and pick up the extension cord from the others.
Our trip went extremely smoothly, except for the difficult task of entertaining the boys and B. All three were restless and challenging to entertain. Things went well for the group in the truck, and they actually beat us to Beaver. I relayed the message of where they were to my father, and we arrived in Beaver shortly thereafter. My dad stopped at a different gas station and we jumped out to grab a quick lunch for the kids. I was relieved that my time of trying to deal with J climbing all over me was at an end.
I busied myself trying to feed the kids while Dad started us on the way. When I finally came to my senses I realized my father was speeding down the freeway away from Beaver.
So much for picking up the extension cord. Oh, well. We resigned ourselves to another couple of hours of no electronic babysitting.
I should also mention one tiny little fact about my travel in a motor home. I'm kind of susceptible to motion sickness. It's only gotten steadily worse as I've gotten older (if it continues at this rate, by the time I'm sixty I won't be able to walk down the street without vomiting.) It wasn't nearly so bad on the way up because I sat in the front seat. However, that was kind of a stressful place to sit too, so I relinquished the spot to my mother on the way home. On the good side, I was a lot less anxious when I couldn't see how fast we were going and how many cars we were passing. On the bad side, by the time we reached Kanab I was feeling profoundly ill with a splitting headache to boot.
We did pick up the extension cord at Kanab, and I tried to medicate myself with ice cream, my favorite panacea. Even that didn't work, so I resorted to something I'm halfway ashamed of now. After six months of refraining from reading while I eat (my own personal addiction), I gave in and snacked while I read Becoming Jane essentially all the way home. I fell off the wagon after six months! Oh well. Something had to be done or I think I would have been far, far more miserable.
(Speaking of being miserably ill, I forgot to mention one other tidbit of trip misfortune. Friday night my brother-in-law got sick and spent the rest of the trip pretty much curled up and unable to function. Now the vacation may have been hard for all of us, but I'm pretty sure the winner for wretchedness was Ryan.)
But like all things, even this longest-of-short-trips came to an end. We reached my parents' house not long after 7 pm and Terence had our stuff transferred from the motor home to the van in lightning speed. I had to drive the van home myself while Terence drove our pickup (we had left both cars at my parents' place,) so by the time I got home, my dull, throbbing headache had become a hammer pounding the anvil kind of pain. I don't even think I bothered to have the kids brush their teeth. In fact, I don't remember that evening any more at all. I must have been functioning in a stupor.
However, I woke up snug and happy in my bed in the morning, none the worse for wear. All's well that ends well, right? And at the very least, now you all have been treated to a long sermon persuading you never to rent a RV.
Now, if only my parents can get El Monte to refund some of the charges. Heaven knows they deserve it.
Comments
What a trip! Will you ever go again?
They better give all your money back for the RV!
I wouldn't call that falling off the wagon. You weren't at home trying to pay attention to the kids, you were on vacation trying to survive the rest of the day without dying. That sort of thing doens't count.