Tale of a 19 Hour Road Trip

Thursday evening we departed on our second road trip to Florida.  We live a short nineteen hours away.  Well, seventeen and a half if we hold our bladders, eat from the cooler and only stop for gas.

Hubby always takes the first leg of the trip.  We leave around bedtime and drive until munchkins wake and request breakfast.  I don't like to drive at night, and I don't drive well if I haven't driven the route several hundred times. 

I'm directionally challenged.

Hubby took a nap after work and I kept the house as quiet as four munchkins would allow.   The plan was for me to catch a snooze after we departed, which would get me ready for the post-breakfast leg of the trip I was responsible for. 

Everything went smoothly, and most everyone was prepared for the ride with the essentials.  Pillows, blankets, snacks, movies and drinks.  The only ill-prepared person was me.  I forgot a pillow.  This made my snoozer in the front seat near impossible.  I attempted to rest, curling into a ball, stretching legs out onto dash, and even stealing a stuffed animal from a sleeping munchkin to rest my head on.

Nothing worked. 

Sweet Hubby drove ten hours (nine plus the hour we sat in traffic because of an accident in Maryland), and after breakfast he happily took his place in the front seat.  Since all munchkins were now awake, he was able to use one of their pillows to rest.

He was fast asleep within minutes of me taking the wheel.

Unfortunately, without my nap and someone to chat with, I was holding my cold can of Red Bull to my forehead to keep me awake.  The South Carolina highway was gorgeously clean, and the sun was shining.  And my eyelids were heavy.  Very heavy. 

And Hubby was taking his well deserved slumber in the front seat.

After two and a half hours, Hubby woke up.  And he took one look at me and asked if I was awake.  I lied and said yes.

He asked me again ten minutes later.  I put down the fingers that were holding my eyelids open and I told him no. 

I was ordered to pull over and Hubby once again took the wheel.  I once again sat shotgun, but this time I rested my weary head on a munchkin pillow.  And I took quite a snoozer.

I did offer to drive again later on, but Hubby told me not to worry about it.

We were fifteen minutes from our hotel.

The moral of this mommyhood story?  Pack your own pillow first.

Have a fabulous weekend!