road trip

Nearly a decade ago, my friend hopped a flight to Seattle and I picked her up at the airport, my Saturn loaded down with everything I owned. We drove to Omaha, stopping to sleep in Montana. Now in our thirties instead of twenties, when she told me she was going to be moving halfway across the country, of course I was going to make the road trip with her. 
Ten years later really complicates matters. Adult responsibilities certainly shirk spontaneity. The planning involved was much more than one purchased plane ticket. There were multiple plane tickets bought, a house sold, a U-Haul booked, lodging procured, daycare secured. And of course, when a mother leaves, a week of preparation is required. I cleaned the entire house, did eight loads of laundry, wrote a detailed schedule. 
I spent Thursday morning giving the boys baths, packing the diaper bag, then my carry-on. I ate lunch with Brandon then I drove myself to the airport. I marveled at exactly how easy air travel is without kids (seriously – what was I bitching about before?) In Phoenix, Marie picked me up at the airport and we grabbed dinner and some much needed coffee, then made it to Las Vegas by 2 a.m. The hotel’s happy hour went from midnight to six a.m. That boggled my mind. Don’t these people sleep?
 As you can tell, I was unlucky in Vegas.
 I think it’s hilarious that when you exit Vegas, there is a billboard telling you who to call to get sober.
 We drove up US 93 which doesn’t have a whole lot going on. A gas station that was turned into a picnic gazebo on the outskirts of a trailer park.
 A church. Electrical lines, trash.
 I love wind turbines.
 We went from cacti and not seeing a tree for too many miles to snow and mountains.
 I like the beauty of ugly things.
 Usually a window reflection ruins a picture, but this captured our road trip – the map on the knees.
 I began getting giddy as soon as we entered Pacific Northwesterness. Every time I run outside, I’ve noticed I run either north or west. It’s as if I’m always subconsciously running home.
 My up-for-anything younger brother came and met us for a delicious sushi dinner. We had joked we just wanted dinner on a plate after foraging a small town grocery store for dinner the night before (seriously – pickles, an apple, triscuits, beef sticks, V-8 juice).
I got home at 1:30 this morning and went to check on Holden and immediately started crying. This morning, he actually hugged me. And he is by no means a hugger. He usually just flails around, but this time, our hearts beat against each other and I could feel what he can’t say – that he missed me. Although spontaneity evaporates with our youth, I remembered all the things I love about my anchored adult life. We can still do things we did back then, we just have to battle logistics. And us adults have learned how to do that in those years when youth was escaping.                                               

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