Suck It, Amazing Race!

I survived over 1200 miles with a 15-month-old. I'll take my merit badge now.

Following the advice of my terribly smart commenters, I made small notes about things I wanted to tell you. The first? Is that if you have to drive 1200 miles with a 15-month-old, try to do it while heavily medicated (unless you're driving...then only a light analgesic haze for you). It actually was not too awful, considering that a) even though we left at night, thinking Tankbaby would sleep through the first several hours of the trip, he actually woke about 1:30 AM, freaked about why he was strapped into a chair and, btw, WHERE IS THE BOOB? and b) the entire state of Idaho is currently under construction. What should have been a 12-hour drive took about 20. Go ahead and read that again, those of you with young children, and let me hear your collective "ech." And then! We left Monday night, got into town Tuesday night, had the wedding on Wednesday, and were back on the road Thursday morning, getting back into town Friday night. Poor Tankers. When we got back, he joyously stumbled around the living room, all, "MY TOYS! And a floor! I thought the rest of my life was a carseat, three books, and that old cell phone!" (Of course, it goes without saying that after twenty minutes of sweet, sweet freedom, we bundled him back into the carseat for a trip across town to see the other side of the family, in town for the wedding that happened on Saturday. About 20 miles away.)

Here's the most important thing I learned about traveling across three states in two days with a toddler: make sure the event you drive to is held at the Four Seasons in Jackson Hole, and that you get the roast beef. It is, as the kids say, off the hizzook. (The kids still say that, right?) Totally worth the drive. I considered smuggling some out in my purse for a reward after the return trip.

Oh! You guys! There are more stories to tell about the traveling, the in-laws, and the two very different weddings in general, but those must wait, because the baby's awake and--while a year ago I couldn't imagine this day--he won't nurse for long. But! I gotta tell y'all: THE TROLL STORY LIVES!

We were over at MOTH's aunt and uncle's house the night before the second wedding. It was a full house and I was on Tankbaby Recon Duty, making sure he didn't feed the Weight Watcher bars to the dog or pull all the labels off the canned goods. MOTH approached me excitedly and whispered, "Didja hear it?" Apparently a friend of his uncle's had told everyone about her "friend" and the poor census worker that had come to the door and been mistaken for a, well, you know. Everyone exclaimed appropriately and MOTH nearly chewed off his own chin, trying desperately to catch my eye. He didn't know the woman, so he didn't want to correct her in front of everyone, so he just quietly choked all by his lonesome.

OK, must run. Trying to do this more in manageable, if slightly incomplete chunks. Next time: Attending a Wedding Where the Bride is a 20-Something Fashion Student from SoCal, or How To Feel Old and Frumpy in Ten Short Minutes.