We Made It

15 hours. That's at least 3 hours longer than what a normal family would take to drive to the beach. I must say the kidlets handled it very well; probably better than me. Ainsley was an angel, Johnny was content watching the cars and trucks as we passed them (he is SUPER in to vehicles right now), and Lizzy only cried 2 hours of the trip. The other 13 hours were spent in sullenness about her confinement. Gracie benefited from my extreme generosity and was allowed her lovie the entire time, which leads me to my teeny story:

At one point I swore I smelled gym shoes. As an ex-PE teacher, I happen to be very familiar with this particular odor. We are old, old enemies. When I was pregnant and nauseous with Ainsley, I would gag every time I had to walk past the boys' locker room. Not to say that the girls' didn't smell, it's just that it wasn't as overwhelming. So when I announced "I smell FEET!" about 10 hours into the trip and then found nothing on a sniff test of the kids, I was flummoxed when I couldn't determine the source. Of course I had the fleeting thought of "oh man. I hope my feet don't smell like that - how horrible would that be?". Still, every few minutes the old gym-shoes would creep past my nose.

You can understand how grossed out I was when I finally discovered where the smell was coming from: Gracie's lovie. The thing she sucks on smells like old gym shoes. It is probably not wise to allow this to continue and I need to burn the thing before she contracts Legionnaires' disease or whatnot.

We only have one picture from today to prove we arrived: