The drive was fairly uneventful. There was lots of singing, book reading, car rolling, video watching, eating, crying, sleeping, yelling, and chatting. Not only did the boys discover it was great fun to throw things back and forth at each other and have yelling contests, but Elijah figured out that if he got too bored, he could always such on his toes.
Had Mom not been with me, many things would have been different. I would not have:
- had nearly as much fun.
- drank a Mountain Dew (in fear of having to stop and use the bathroom as frequently as I did).
- even thought of taking photos. Period.
- had anyone to talk to.
- been able to run into the gas station to get things while mom pumped the gas.
- attempted playtime at rest stops. I would have stuck to somewhere that had four walls.
- been able to take a quick snooze in the passenger seat (despite Isaac saying "Mommy" throughout much of the daze.) He does not like it when I close my eyes. At all.
- been able to so haphazardly pack the van. The stroller would have had to be accessible in the back for my times out of the car. With as much "junk" as we had piled in that van, I have no earthly idea how I would have done that.
Mom was very impressed with my incredibly long arms. I didn't realize, until she began bragging on me, that not everyone can get the arms of a child behind you back into their shoulder straps while driving. What? Not everyone can do this? I guess not. I can reach nearly anything while continuing to stay in my lane. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that if it wasn't for my long arms that can reach milk cups and teddy bears and dvd players and pacifiers and hand over books and cars and snacks, I am not sure I would even contemplate making this trip by myself.
Seeing John and Scrubs were the highlights of my day. Having JB hug me and promise me that we won't be apart again anytime in the foreseeable future was a great feeling. Having Scrubs clean up all the excess food under the highchairs during dinner? Can't even begin to put that one into words.
It is, so great, to be home. I have often remarked that I don't know where my "home" is. South Florida? Kentucky? Minnesota? Northern Florida? Turkey?
This trip reminded me that home is simply that place that you can truly let your hair down. It's the place that you cultivate and organize and celebrate. It's the place where you feel comfortable and can be yourself without heistation. The place where you are with the people you love. While my extended family is very close to feeling like home, there was nothing like walking back in the doors of our home here on Eglin AFB. It didn't matter if it was Base housing. It didn't matter what it looked like. It just mattered that it was where I belong.
It is very good to be home.
JB and Scrubby both agree.