We are preparing once again (and pregnant once again) to cheer our Craig on at the St George Marathon finish line where Popsicles and apples await with sweaty hugs. After the race we will finish "the drive" up to Provo and send Craig off conference-bound to Seattle while we settle in with my parents for a few days until he returns to drive us all home.
I am sentimental about the drive. Though we have done it countless times--the *times* are running out as my parents gear up for a relocation. No more Glen Canyon Damn pit stops or resting at the fountain near the gas station in Kanab, and...my favorite, pulling off University onto Oak Lane where the most beautiful neighborhoods abide. It is home and I'm thrilled to be going again.
Craig is perhaps not so thrilled, mostly for the drive. It is ideal for my tired pregnant self. I can plop my fanny down--nearly all day (not such good news for my fanny)--and be mother from a seated position to three littles strapped down in their carefully chosen spots. Rarely a bicker, only needs easily fulfilled by snacks, snappy tunes, and stories. Yes, the drive is long, but we're together as a family discussing, listening, and sometimes just ignoring one another.
It is a suitcase load of work to pack up for such a road trip. But, the night before I still get tiny pangs of excited anticipation, as if I were 10 again, going to visit MY grandparents who both lived on the same mountain with the "Y". I think this road trip is just what I need.