This past Friday, I rounded up Small Fry and the hound dog for a little trip up north to Gramma and Pawpaw’s place. This is probably one of the many, many lessons of new parenthood: It is generally not a great idea to travel on a 90 degree day with a large dog and a small infant BY YOURSELF. See, the logistics are against you: You can’t leave the dog in the car, even for a short time, because it’s horrible and cruel and THEY COULD EXPIRE FROM THE EXCESSIVE HEAT. Same goes for the child, they go where you go or you go to jail. The catch-22 when attempting to travel without a partner is the dreaded “Bathroom Pitstop”. You can’t bring the dog into the restroom with you like you do with the child, and inevitably a “quick trip” to the restroom takes 4 times longer when you bring a screeching, thrashing infant.
So what does one do? One holds her 20 oz coffee, bottle of water, and a can of Sprite for 4 hours. Sounds easy, right?
You’d be wrong, friend.
Anyway, I somehow managed to defy the odds and I did in fact make it to Gramma and Pawpaw’s place without major incident. And it was wonderful there: fresh country air, relaxing breezy afternoons under the huge maple trees, sitting on a true country front porch sipping lemonade and watching the scant traffic go by. I think the change of environment was great for Reese: she was simply the easiest baby all weekend long, so relaxed and easy-going. She giggled and laughed her awesome belly laugh at her Pawpaw, and she cooed and gurgled and smiled for Gramma in the rocker. And I actually got some pretty good nights of sleep (despite the overwhelming heat and humidity) with windows wide open and the sound of roosters crowing so early in the morning. It was the closest to a vacation I’ve had in nearly a year.
