undefined
undefined
My parent's house in the middle of Illinois cornfields holds such strong feelings for me. Last Thanksgiving, I wrote this post, and this morning that same peacefulness washed over my heart as I pulled back the crimson sheers covering each of the living room windows to let in the beautiful morning light.
I sat on the wide front porch and watched my children enjoy the sunshine, the tire swing, the trampoline, the apple trees, the sweet, corn-scented country air. Sturdy porch boards under my feet and thick rafters and beams overhead surrounded me with my dad's handiwork and symbolized the love and protection always available to me.
I thought back to the previous day's journey. The girls and I had encountered no less than seven road construction and painting crews between Inna-inna and Illinois. At one point, the traffic had crept along at a 10 mile per hour pace for three miles before we encountered a flagger holding a "SLOW" sign. I wondered if I should go even slower as I passed her.
We stopped three times in the first hour to change a diaper, to pick up a fallen baby doll and to rescue a very important blanket. Rather than risking getting lost, I chose to pull off to the side of the road instead of taking exit ramps and finding parking spots. During our twelfth pullover, a kind man knocked on our window and asked if we needed help. I held up a stinky diaper and said, "Not unless you want to dispose of this for me!" He laughed, shook his head, and beat a hasty retreat.
I took a wrong turn once and stopped for directions once. All in all, not too bad. The worst element of our journey was my full bladder. It wasn't until about three hours into our trip that I realized I hadn't made a plan for my own bathroom needs. I pondered my predicament for the next five hours sometimes more urgently than at other times.
But sitting on the front porch, enjoying Liberty's and Mercy's glee, the song of birds, the sound of corn rustling and leaves dancing, the easy breeze, and knowing the laughter and camaraderie of family was only an arm's reach away, I decided without hesitation that the full bladder, and the longer than necessary journey was definitely worth it.
The only thing missing is my Jeremy, and he'll join us here on Friday!
I sat on the wide front porch and watched my children enjoy the sunshine, the tire swing, the trampoline, the apple trees, the sweet, corn-scented country air. Sturdy porch boards under my feet and thick rafters and beams overhead surrounded me with my dad's handiwork and symbolized the love and protection always available to me.
I thought back to the previous day's journey. The girls and I had encountered no less than seven road construction and painting crews between Inna-inna and Illinois. At one point, the traffic had crept along at a 10 mile per hour pace for three miles before we encountered a flagger holding a "SLOW" sign. I wondered if I should go even slower as I passed her.
We stopped three times in the first hour to change a diaper, to pick up a fallen baby doll and to rescue a very important blanket. Rather than risking getting lost, I chose to pull off to the side of the road instead of taking exit ramps and finding parking spots. During our twelfth pullover, a kind man knocked on our window and asked if we needed help. I held up a stinky diaper and said, "Not unless you want to dispose of this for me!" He laughed, shook his head, and beat a hasty retreat.
I took a wrong turn once and stopped for directions once. All in all, not too bad. The worst element of our journey was my full bladder. It wasn't until about three hours into our trip that I realized I hadn't made a plan for my own bathroom needs. I pondered my predicament for the next five hours sometimes more urgently than at other times.
But sitting on the front porch, enjoying Liberty's and Mercy's glee, the song of birds, the sound of corn rustling and leaves dancing, the easy breeze, and knowing the laughter and camaraderie of family was only an arm's reach away, I decided without hesitation that the full bladder, and the longer than necessary journey was definitely worth it.
The only thing missing is my Jeremy, and he'll join us here on Friday!
It is an adventure taking kids on a road trip alone! Several years back I took all 5 from Indiana to Bob Jones University and I did get lost a few times. It has been seven years now and my kids still say my phrase "It's no big deal, we'll just turn the car around and go back..." They remember how many times I took the wrong direction as I was trying to drive on the interstate. Numerous times, I'd take the westbound lane when I wanted to go east!
It was no big deal, I'd just turn the car around and go back........