There’s No Place Like Home

THIS IS YESTERDAY'S POST 10/1/08

Well, I have no wifi tonight because I opted for another cheap ass hotel. But seriously, $31 – how was I supposed to drive by that one? I am writing this in word and will post tomorrow as soon as I have access to the Internet. Like over a decent cup of coffee. Do I sound bitter? Because maybe that’s what I like about coffee, but the brownish substitute I had masquerading as coffee this morning was burnt.

We’re outside Kansas City, Missouri tonight. We blew across the state of Kansas like Dorothy’s house to Oz. I didn’t sleep well in the Bates-ish motel in Limon, CO. After lying awake for more than an hour, I got up about 5:30 and started prepping for another day. I had trouble sleeping because every little noise made me nervous last night. There is nothing like the paranoia of darkness to make for a bad night’s sleep. Tonight is the last cheap hotel to save money. I think I would rather pay for my security; at least the illusion of security.

Before leaving Portland, when I discussed my plans for this trip, many people commented on how brave I am. And my BFF, awaiting our arrival, mentioned it yesterday. I don’t think of what I am doing as brave. My traveling-with-children philosophy remains: I would be feeding them, scolding them and entertaining them everyday anyway, I might as well be somewhere interesting while I do it. I don’t think this is significantly harder than our life at home. It’s just a different routine. It a little harder in the sense that I don’t have the luxury of the long breaks I enjoy from them in Portland because our babysitter is not here, but they do sleep. And they are old enough now that I can ignore them for periods of time. Like now; as Tavi and Bea straddle the luggage rest and have devised some sort of play involving the precarious entanglement of limbs in nylon straps and hinged metal tubes. But they are playing together nicely and they are being quiet. So hey, I’m fine with it.

Tavi and Bea had a pretty good day in the car, and it was the longest one of straight driving. We left earlier than usual after Bea threw me a few of her best toddler tantrums. I caught the sunrise heading east and enjoyed the solitude of the open morning road. Bea was consoled over some hot chocolate in the back seat and we rode quietly for a couple of hours. I finally took advantage of a rest stop today. I was reluctant to stop “unnecessarily” since they offer neither food nor gas, but after two hours it made a nice break. Even without a play ground, Tavi and Bea had a great time chasing each other, a beautiful orange butterfly, and me. I also took the opportunity to redistribute the Polly Pocket pieces and we were off for another couple of hours of uninterrupted driving time.

Along the way I saw a sign for the Oz Museum at exit 238 in Wamego, KS. It was just the kitschy roadside Americana I was looking for (one that was oddly absent along our Wyoming trek). I was anxiously counting down the miles and really pumping it up for Bea who was really starting to lose it in the back seat. It was close to lunchtime and our timing was off because we entered another time zone today. I kept insisting she "just hang in" when she fell asleep. Tavi hit the sack about 10 minutes earlier. I was considering skipping the attraction but realized we would have to eat at some point, but just as I approached the exit, there was nothing there. I couldn’t figure it out and was frankly quite pissed. We were still a good solid half full on the tank in a car that gets close to 50 mpgs, so I put on some music that didn’t involve counting or having seen the accompanying movie, worked on my what if scenario in case I was pulled over by a trooper and enjoyed the ride.

Then about a hundred miles later, just as Bea woke fussing from her post, I saw the sign for the Oz Museum. At exit THREE twenty eight (328). I had transposed the most crucial numbers and was thankful Bea had chosen that mistaken moment to conk out. as she whined in the back, I appeased her with pistachios and made the remaining 20 miles to the exit before Tavi joined the caconophy of fussing. We pulled off at the exit that was obscured by roadwork and I nearly missed it, only to find a sign explaining that the Wamego Oz Museum was just another mere 10 miles down the road. I have never been so tense in my life. I held off the girls and we made it!

It was well worth the effort and Tavi and Bea had a blast. The employees in the gift shop were awesome and even checked upstairs for the one forgotten dress-up box containing the proper attire to outfit Dorothy, Glenda and The Wicked Witch of the West. Only Glenda was represented on the ground floor and the whole box was only $10 more. A very kind volunteer even directed us to a park only two blocks from the museum that turned into another amazing opportunity to run and stretch our legs.

After satiating their need for physical activity, Bea asked to “go home”. It’s the fist time they have mentioned it on this trip and the irony given our coordinates was more than a little funny. Tavi echoed her sister and I understood their lament. I am feeling the slightest pangs of homesickness myself, but I am trapped between “homes”. I’m not sure if it the pain of nostalgia for another time as I travel towards the ghosts of homes past or if I already miss the (m)other life I have come to know in Portland.

When we had our fill of the playground, we ventured on to Toto’s Tacos (they tasted about as good as you would imagine by the name and location) before hitting the road for our final leg. They girls were appeased and played quietly, for the most part. We stopped one more time for gas and cruise controlled all the way to Missouri. I chose a CD we haven’t listen to yet and my cargo was quite amused by the toll road from Topeka to KC. Tavi and Bea had not even started to fuss yet when I pulled up to the lobby doors.

Don’t mind the woman behind the curtain! While I appreciate the accolades of bravery from so many, I have a confession. My bad parenting secret about how I manage to check in hotels with children in tow is: I don’t. I always pull the car as close to the lobby doors as possible (on the curb once even), crack the windows, lock the doors and leave them in the car like a hot puppy. I can see them from the counter. And once I tell them I’m getting our hotel room, they are so excited they just sit quietly listening to the music and watch me through the layers of pane.

So while I console Tavi and Bea’s homesickness, I continue down my own private yellow brick road...

BTW- the name of the Wyoming critter is the Pronghorn - and fun tip of today is: anyone may camp (for one night) in the Kansas state rest stops.

Comments

[jamie]

Perfect rendering of a road trip with children. That tension you feel when you're out there on your own trying to find places, keep the peace, feed kids etc is really something.

This is my first visit (found you through a "traveling with children" google alert, and hey, I love your philosophy). I'll be back.

[Unfit Mother]

Thanks for stopping by Jamie! More on the way...