I suppose a weary traveller walking his two-month old through the motel lobby, and stopping by the ubiquitous Dell parked on a desk there, and finding an opening-screen story like this might be discouraged, but not me. No way.
We’re in Roanoke, roughly halfway, having survived the stresses of final, critical preparations in the vortex of escalating infant/toddler unrest and diminishing returns of packing, and the initial screaming and wailing that must accompany the introduction of infant to carseat. We enjoyed the sweet spot when both kids are asleep, and mom and dad are just so energized by the silence and progress and actual conversation that they imagine driving all night. And we grinded through the reality that intrudes after midnight and kept ‘er between the ditches until we made it to our regular stop– the shiny new Holiday Inn on the hill. Where everyone over 2 years of age got that weird road trip second-wind that comes from sitting still and keeps you awake for 20 minutes too long.
Next up: Hardee’s breakfast, and the careful work of expectation-management that will somehow enable us to squeeze 5 hours of productivity out of an 18-hour day and still maintain our sanity (if that is what it is).