one weekend in maine: day one

Sometimes, you’re sitting at the breakfast table on a Thursday morning. And you say to your husband, “Now that your dad is back from NZ, we should plan a trip to go visit.” And your husband says, “Let’s go tomorrow!”

At least, that’s what sometimes happens in my world.

So, Friday drive, Saturday visit, Sunday drive again — that was my weekend. And yes, it’s a long drive. My kids are peaches. I think all of those early plane trips to and from California made them thankful to at least be in a car for 8 hours. (I know I sure am!) A bag of books, a snack, the wonderful anticipation of when Mama will say yes to watching a movie, singing along to worship music, and just staring contentedly out the window — it keeps them awfully happy. Or maybe they’re just pretty happy kids. Either way, it’s fun to travel together.

day one:

first things first: chocolate chip muffins

early morning preparations

on the road

beatrice figured out that there was a movie behind her

our favorite Burlington stop

a dramatic day for driving through beautiful mountains

happy to watch a movie!

our fearless leader

over the river

We were away for 5 days, visiting Maine and people we love. Aunties, cousins, a puppy dog, and grandparents — does it get any better? Jameson brought dress up (which he wanted to wear every day), got a new “big boy” car seat, tried his hand at dunking for apples (and got thoroughly water-logged in the process), and played golf all day long at his Papa’s house. William got late birthday gifts (staggering presents really should happen every year; isn’t it way fun?), went out alone for sushi with Daddy (turns out he doesn’t love chunks of raw fish the way his brother does), and got to hand out candy on Sunday night with Jameson (the two of them sitting on a bench by the door, looking out the window? Adorable.)

We had fun.

We also managed to fit adventure into our drives: on the way there, Ryan almost ran out of gas, and we were driving down New Hampshire country roads late at night, hoping for a gas station. On the way back, I helped out by driving for a couple of hours — except that one of those hours, I was on the wrong highway, heading in the wrong direction. Lot of help I am.

But we got home.

I love coming home.

And I don’t care how local and organic the restaurants in Burlington are, I’d rather eat at home. (My local, organic Swiss chard is just as good.)