School is out and fun is in! If this spring break finds you itching to indulge your wanderlust here are 7 helpful tips to create a road trip you won’t soon forget (even if you want to).
Don’t do it. If your kids like to run through sprinklers, watch cartoons and play with neighborhood friends, then don’t go anywhere. Just don’t.
Do not, I repeat, do not plan ahead and shop at your local grocery store, purchase snacks and neatly pack them in a cooler for your journey. Your weary travelers will not be interested in these snacks. Stop at gas stations along the way and let them choose from aisles of junk food. These snacks are sure to be superior to the exact same ones brought from home.
Be sure to stock your car with oodles of charged screens, CDs, DVDs and brush up on the rules of “I Spy” before you go.
RETA (Realistic Estimated Time of Arrival). Calculate in advance the amount of time it will realistically take to get to your destination. A good rule of thumb is to stop four times for every one hour you spend on the road. Potty breaks, food stops, car seat adjustment, he’s looking at me, we just ate but I’m hungry again are all productive reasons to pull off the road.
Before you go, devise a list of responses to the question, “How much longer?” Your list can include a myriad of responses such as but not limited to: I don’t know, two minutes, yes, 274 days, maybe, ask your father, 36 hours, never and silence. Keep in mind that ignoring is also a form of answering. The possibilities are endless considering the fact that variations of “How much longer?” will be asked more than is humanly necessary so be prepared. It will surely spark your creative side.
For the lucky ones with a “window” seat be sure to evenly apply sunscreen to half of the body closest to the sun. All that time in the car will most likely result in some strange tan lines.
It is essential to pack nearly everything you own. No use in packing lightly, just throw it all in the back of the car. You will be glad and not glad you did.
Follow these 7 easy steps and you will be enjoying your road trip before you know it. At least until you threaten for the 469th time to turn the car around.
Amy Rondeau grew up in southern California writing stories and talking too much. She strapped pointe shoes to her feet for five Nutcrackers and applied 3,742 eyelashes for various musical theatre performances. She currently uses her words at Herstory, Facebook and Storia as well as posting YouTube videos for her eleven adoring subscribers. She has moved around the globe with her military husband seven times in nine years and three people call her mom. Her greatest achievements in life include asking her doctor for selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitors, roller-skating and shopping for groceries online.
Find her website here: https://www.facebook.com/Herstory-940052212708523/?fref=ts
In most homes, the marks on the wall are a simple celebration of time passing. They are pencil lines that track how many inches a child has gained since their last birthday. But in our home, those marks represent a much deeper, more complex story. When your child lives with multiple hormone deficiencies, growth is never just “natural”—it is a carefully managed medical achievement. However, as any medical mom knows, the story doesn’t end at the top of the head. It begins deep inside, with a tiny gland that isn’t sending the right signals. Having multiple hormone deficiencies is often...
Bedtime is when my kids tend to open up the most. The lights are low, the day is winding down, and their guard finally comes down with it. One night, my son told me he had been having a really hard time at school. Some boys had been so relentless that he left the cafeteria before finishing his breakfast, deciding it was better to go hungry than face more teasing. Because he’s such a kind boy with a big heart for others, seeing him face that kind of cruelty made my heart ache even more. It wasn’t the first time...
These robotics kids are going to shape our future. I think this every time I watch an elementary, middle school, or high school competition. My thoughts go back many years to when my middle child, who was six at the time, went with my husband to the high school robotics shop. They were only stopping in briefly to pick up some engineering kits, but my child quickly became captivated by what the “big kids” were doing. He stood quietly watching until one student walked over and asked if he would like to see what they were working on. My son,...
Sometimes foster care looks like bringing a child from a hard place into your home. Sometimes it looks like sitting at a ball field with a former foster love’s mom and being her village. He’s the one who has brought me to my knees more times than my own children. He’s the one I lie awake at night thinking about. He’s the one I beg the father to protect. He’s the one who makes me want to get in the trenches over and over again. It’s our Bubba. So much of the story is not mine to tell, but the...
When we decided to give our preschooler another year before kindergarten, I thought the hardest part would be explaining it to other people. I was wrong. The hardest part was the afternoon her teacher asked to talk. In that split second in the pick-up line, my heart sank. I assumed the worst. I braced myself for a conversation about behavior, about something we had somehow missed, about whether her strong personality was causing problems. Instead, it became the moment that confirmed what we already knew. We were not holding her back. We were giving her time. Our daughter is bright....
My life changed on that beautiful autumn day. The thing is, nothing really happened. Not really. My life kind of went on as usual. A fly on the wall might even say it was a great day. I brought my 3-year-old son to an animal farm for a Halloween event. He was quirky as usual and a bit ornery that day. Aloof. “Come feed the baby animals,” I pleaded. No, thank you. Crowds of excited children? Absolutely not. Buckets of candy? You can keep them. My heart ached watching my beautiful, blonde-haired boy wander into a field alone, away from...
Last night I watched an episode of Shrinking. If you haven’t jumped into the series yet, it’s one of those that hits the heart hard- at least for me. The episode centered on the birth of a baby, while one of the characters grappled with the closing years of life. Spoiler alert: as the elder of the group cradled this new life in his arms, bridging generations across the hospital room, the moment of realization of how fast life goes hit like a ton of bricks. “Enjoy the ride, kid.” The final words of this episode are sitting with me,...
With four kids at three different schools, our days are full. Between sports practices, music lessons, clubs, rehearsals, games, meets, and playdates, it feels like we’re constantly heading somewhere. I love that my children are involved in activities, but occasionally, it’s nice to have some downtime. When I get a text or email that a practice has been canceled, it’s usually a huge relief. Last week, after-school sports were cancelled due to heavy rain. When I picked up my youngest son from school, I told him we’d be going straight home for the rest of the afternoon. He looked surprised....
I have a confession: Yesterday I let my 11-year-old play with fire. Like literally. We live in the country, there is still wet snow on the ground, and he’s done it with his dad at least 20 times. But yesterday was the fifth consecutive day of no school, and probably the twentieth consecutive day of him asking to have a small fire without dad. Part of me did it out of laziness. Part of me did it out of selfishness. And part of me did it out of nostalgia. Here’s the thing—when I was 11, I was already babysitting (like...
He doesn’t remember the day she came home.But she has never known a world without him. From the beginning, he was there first. The first to reach for her hand. The first to explain the rules. The first to decide what was fair and what absolutely was not. He didn’t know he was being assigned a role. He just stepped into it. Big brother. She followed him everywhere. Into rooms she technically wasn’t invited into. Into games she didn’t fully understand. Into stories she insisted on hearing again and again. She wanted to do what he did, say what he...