I'm just sayin'. And I'm just sayin' after having driven all freaking night long, from Fredericksburg, Texas, all the way to St. Francsiville, La. -- about 12 hours, given the crazy delay because of the gas well fire that shut down I-10 between Lafayette and Baton Rouge.
We had rented this quaint little cabin in the countryside near Fredericksburg, in the Texas Hill Country. The boys were thrilled, and could hardly wait to get there. "Little House on the Prairie," cowboys and Indians and all that. The cabin was really lovely, but snug. We'll we knew that it was small, but one doesn't appreciate the meaning of small until one is cooped up with two fighting brothers. And two brothers who are city kids, and of whom it is apparently TOO MUCH TO EXPECT to go out-freaking-side and play on their own, and explore and have, you know, normal human fun without fighting, or coming running to Mom and Dad to solve this or that piddling problem ("Mo-o-om! He's staring at me!").
I bet Joan Crawford never had to deal with this crap. I swear, this vacation, after two short days, was turning me into Chevy Chase, except there was no sense of the absurd, just ... frustration.
Well, not totally. I took the boys to the Nimitz Museum in Fredericksburg, which they enjoyed, and I had beer and sausage at some German joint afterward (that part of Texas was settled by Germans, and Fredericksburg still celebrates its German heritage). But mostly this vacation was about managing tension. We'd chosen this particular place because there was lots of room for the kids to run around and get their ya-yas out, and enough stuff in the area to interest Julie and me too. But they didn't want to do that. They wanted to annoy their parents and fight. Julie and I got to the point where we didn't want to say it to each other, but we needed a vacation from this stupid vacation.
Last night we hit the wall. Matthew couldn't sleep, so he climbed up into the bed I was sharing with Lucas. I was crunched in a too-small bed between two restless little boys, wondering how the hell I was going to get to sleep. And I was dreading that we had one more day to get through before we could check out and make the long drive to Louisiana to my mom and dad's place for Thanksgiving. Julie and Nora were sleeping in the bedroom across the hall (it was really too small for three of us), except Julie wasn't sleeping, because she was anxious about me trying to get to sleep between the fidgety funsters.
After the third time I walked in there in despair, she says to me, "Do you want to just pack the van and drive to Louisiana? We could have it packed in half an hour. I know we've paid for another day, but let's just cut our losses and go. None of us are happy. You wanna?"
"Yes."
"Great! Let's go."
So I made a pot of coffee and we worked swiftly to gather our things and cram them into the minivan. When it was all done, I went upstairs and awakened the boys, who had finally drifted off. "Boys, let's go to Mammy and Pawpaw's," I said, hoping they wouldn't cry or protest.
"Yay!" said Matthew.
"YAY!" said Lucas.
We were out of there five minutes later.
We drove all night long, which is actually a pretty great way to travel with kids, because they all slept most of the way. The long stretch between San Antonio and Houston is desolate, or so it seemed to me, though it was foggy as hell, so who knows what I wasn't able to see. We did pass over a great Texas geographical spot: "Woman Hollering Creek", which actually has a very sad legend attached to it. Made it to Houston around 5-5:30. Hated driving through Houston. Hated it. The fog was awful, and the city stank of chemicals. When we passed the turnoff for Port Arthur, hometown of Terry Mattingly, I remembered some of his stories about growing up there, then crossed myself and thanked the Baby Jesus that TMatt flew the coop. Finally hit the Louisiana state line sometime around 8, I think. I led Lucas in a vigorous recitation of the LSU "Hot Boudin" cheer to mark the occasion. Well, as vigorous as anybody can be after having driven halfway across Texas on no sleep and one pot of strong coffee.
You've probably heard about the gas well explosion in the swamp between Lafayette and Baton Rouge, which has forced I-10 to close down, probably for at least two more weeks. Traffic is being re-routed up I-49 at Lafayette, and across La. Hwy 190 at Opelousas. I gotta tell you, if you are contemplating taking this route tomorrow for Thanksgiving, whatever you do, STAY HOME. We miraculously didn't have any traffic jams headed east, though there was slow going in patches. But I measured a ten-mile traffic jam in the westbound lane. It was so bad people were out of their cars chatting and hanging out, like they were at the world's most miserable tailgating party.
At last we arrived at Mammy and Pawpaw's place, almost 11 hours after we left Fredericksburg. The boys were in hog heaven, ripping and roaring in the yard and enjoying their grandparents instead of their beat-down-by-stress parents. Within half an hour, I was in bed. And finally, we have peace. If Julie and I had just come here to begin with, dropped the boys off and checked with Nora into a place in town to have a little peace and quiet and reading time, everybody would have been happy.
Whatever the secret is to successful vacations with young children, I have yet to learn it. Advice most welcome. Don't say "Flintstones Valium" -- I've already thought of that one, and I don't think it's legal in this country.
Anyway, I'm going back to bed. Erin, carry on. I'll be back here on Thanksgiving. The day after, we're going tailgating at Tiger Stadium, though we don't have tickets to the game. Lucas can't wait. He's become a big Tigers fan, though he keeps calling them "the LSUs (Ell-Ess-Yous)." He said this morning in the van, "There are two teams in the world: the Ell-Ess-Yous and the Bads." Dass a fack, Jack.
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The key with taking kids on vacations is to be PROACTIVE, not merely responsive. Have at least a dozen activities planned for them to do in the car, and whip each one out separately as needed.
Here are some activities suitable for car rides:
1. Books on tape.
2. Singing
3. Coloring
4. Reading
5. Various games of all sorts (travel games, card games)
6. Snacking
Then, be sure to stop every two hours or so for planned bathroom breaks. WHile everyone is out of the car, force some exercise into them if they're all just loafing around. Make them play tag or run around a field for ten minutes, that sort of thing.
Also, when it comes to siblings fighting, the key is to understand one thing: it's all a power struggle to see who can get the Parent on their side. That said, don't intervene unless a kid is being injured. Instead, tell them you have confidence they can work this out on their own. Say, "I don't care. I'm sure you'll be able to figure this one out on your own. You're two bright, capable boys able to solve your problems." Say it a lot. If they look like they need a little coaching on how to work it out, you can offer some suggestions--but don't make them sound like binding solutions you've decided on. Instead, avoid names and leave the decision-ball in their court. "Honey, I think you'll both be able to work out something where maybe one of you plays with the toy for a few minutes and then you take turns playing with it."
As to getting them to play outside, well they just need to be locked out, even if it means they scream for ten minutes straight in protest. Say something like, "the next person who comes inside without my permission will get (fill in the blank BAD consequence)." When they realize they won't be allowed inside, they buckle down and make the best of it outside and usually end up having lots of fun.
As to sleep, that's just a lost cause. Sometimes the kids sleep perfectly. Most of the time they don't. So, try to factor in time for naps.
As a battle-scarred veteran of the Vacation Wars (four children, three boys and a girl) I am sorry for all of the folks who are too young to have used the VW minibus as a family ride. When the boys started acting up, my wife could say, "Don't make me come back there," and mean it. A couple of other things that worked for us: long travel (Portland, Oregon to Livingston, Montana in our case) should be done at night, as long as the driver's body clock flexes far enough to do it safely. And we never stayed in motels. Camping always gave the kids work to do and many opportunities to explore and burn off energy. And since we didn't have a TV, we never had to listen to TV-related whines. Funny how time works, but when we assemble nowadays, the very worst times are the ones we remember and laugh about. Truly, I would love to be able to roll back the clock about twenty years and hit the road with them all again. (And TMatt is dead right about Creedence at high volume, but wrong about the song; it should either be "Fortunate Son" or "Run Through The Jungle".)
Life is hard.
Pauli
We had a wonderful vacation when our children were young (2nd and Pre-K), but I did use a few tricks.
1. Don't drive through unless you absolutely have to. Children thrive on regular bedtimes and real beds.
2. Cook in motel rooms. The last thing a child wants to do after being stuck in the car all day is be good in a restaurant. I brought an electric cookpot and some kitchen utensils with us. After we unloaded the car at the motel, my husband took the kids to the pool (a necessity) and I went to the nearest supermarket for a roast/fried chicken, a bagged salad, and some dessert. I cooked up some Rice-a-Roni or something similar, fished the kids out of the pool, had them shower, ate dinner, watched some TV, and sent them to bed. The next morning they were refreshed and ready for the day. Other food suggestions: spaghetti, hotdogs, sloppy joes, mac and cheese--you get the picture. Eat out only when there is good, regional food.
3. Don't worry about fighting. As long as it is not soul destroying, kids fight and come out unharmed. Try not to get involved. As for the car, my husband had the kids do counting exercises when the tensions rose. The older one was told to count to 1000 by 7's or 9's and the younger by 3's. They didn't like it, so just saying that they were going to have to count calmed them down. If the fighting got too bad, there was always the quick trip to the breakdown lane. A car coming to a screeching halt at the side of the road puts the fear of God into them. It certainly did when my two little darlings spat at each other. It was the first and last time. I got the impression that their both getting in trouble helped with their bonding.
4. Bring the biggest car you have.
My kids still talk about what a great time they had on vacation.
I believe the secret is to keep the Flintstones Valium for yourself.
Still illegal (although I guess one could have a prescription). Still immoral. But a little less so on both counts, no?
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