Seven Months

Can you tell we are busy around here? In the time it took to tell you how we got here, a month has gone by.  Here we are, and Little Miss has celebrated yet another birthday (a week ago, too).
It seems like I just finished writing a birthday post, so there must not be much more to tell, right?  But then I thought about it, and you know. A month in Baby Time is quite a long while! Enough to get a lot done, certainly.  Here's what's new in the world of Little Miss:

Out:

PACIFIERS
Yep.  We did a gradual phase out followed by a cold-turkey day and thankfully the Paci-DT's were less severe than we had feared.  I'm not saying She didn't miss them.  Or that She wouldn't fall off the wagon in a heartbeat if given the choice.  But She's soldiered on pretty well.

BACKWARDS SCOOTCHING
She's finally figured out forward propulsion. It's still an inch-worm type locomotion, but it works.  And She's always up on those hands and knees; rocking, reaching, just knowing that there is something to this that is going to work out at some point.  I have a feeling that She'll be crawling by the next birthday post.  Then we'll really be in for it.

SLEEPING ALONE
Little Miss wants so much to be nursed or rocked or snuggled or at least held to sleep.  So much! When She's put down alone in bed to fall asleep on Her own, about half the time She will protest at least a little.  She feels much better about it at night, when Little One is in the room with Her.  Possibly because Little One still soothes Her when She's fussing; bringing toys, patting Her through the crib slats, singing to Her. 

THE VACUUM
We have no idea why. But Miss has decided that vacuum cleaners, most especially the Roomba, are evil and out to get Her.  This is silly, of course.  The Roomba is a Godsend and the regular vacuum is only out to get me. 

In:

TEETH!
Yes! She is so sweet-natured that we had no idea She was even teething until I happened to see a little pearly edge peeping out a few days ago.  Sadly for Miss, for all of us really, She cut Her first tooth during a terrible fever/cough/cold, and cut another the very next day.  Even this Buddha baby isn't zen enough to withstand all that. The last few days She has fussed more than in Her whole short life combined I think.  But those teeny chompers are awfully cute, though.

THE GASP
Possibly because this long-running cold has made it so hard to breathe, Miss has developed this really strange and distinctive gasping noise that She makes whenever She tries to cry or nurse.  It is really loud and kind of terrible sounding.  We're not sure if She's just found a new sound to make or if it's really unintentional, but it's a big enough part of Her vocabulary to be included here.

BABBLES
Miss has mastered the B, G, M, and D consonants, and loves to try them out with different vowels and babble away.  No real words yet, but if you ask Her She has a lot of important things to say.

RASPBERRIES
Yes, She's very into practicing all kinds of noises, isn't She? She is a master raspberry-blower.  Seriously, if there were a contest we would win big.

FOOD
It's about time, if you ask Her.  Little One had the great honor of feeding Little Miss Her first solid food, and they were both delighted by the experience.  We've continued to give Her spoons of thick rice cereal, and have yet to find the bottom of Her stomach with it.  She has consumed- in one sitting!- 3, 4....FIVE small bowls of the stuff and still wanted more.  Each time, I just cut Her off at some point, because seriously. Who eats that much?!
Solid food has done several things: confirmed Her long held suspicion that things people are eating are yummy, making Her impossible to wrangle if you are eating or handling food, because She will GET IT IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO, and either end up with it all over Herself, you, or the floor.  It has caused Her to get suddenly hungry and beg like a puppy when other people are eating. It has also given Her a fondness for spoons which is quite funny.  Useful, too.  When out to eat, hand that girl a spoon and She will be entertained for ages, just gumming it, cooing at it, and looking at it like at any moment something delicious will surely appear in it. 
I think it's safe to say She will be a good eater.

WATER
Not just to splash in, though that's now a daily dose of happy.  To drink.  Little Miss can drink both from a cup (held for Her) and a straw, and very thoroughly enjoys both. 

BOOKS
She just now starting to see the charm in sitting quietly and looking at books.  Before it was too frustrating not to be allowed to eat them.

LITTLE ONE
Miss is a bit of a Mamma's girl.  She's entirely crazy about Her dad, too, and She continues to be friendly and jovial with everyone.  But She has a special love for Her sister.  It melts my heart to see it, and it amazes me to see it in a little baby.  But truly, Little Miss saves Her biggest, most joyful grins, Her deepest, most heart-felt belly laughs, and Her most twinkling, lit up looks of adoration for Little One.  Nothing gets Her quite as excited as seeing Her sister coming over, or having Little One sing and talk to Her.  Nothing makes Her little face fall as fast as seeing Little One walk away.
Little One for Her part is 3 and has no clue the power She has over Miss's emotions. Sometimes She'd rather color with chalk than heed Miss's pleading cries for Her attention.  Something that will likely break both my and Miss's hearts a few million times in the future.  But fortunately, for the most part and so far, Little One generally does go out of Her way to comfort Miss when She's sad, to play with Her, hug and kiss Her, and to include Her in whatever we are doing.  I've yet to say, "can Miss read/build blocks/snuggle/dress up/go with us?" and been told "no" by Little One.  I almost never even have to ask Her to share with Her baby sister. In fact, I'm more often asking Her not to (when its food or too small or dangerous).  There is a special something there.   

MUSIC
Little Miss has started to really notice music. The the better beat, the more She's into it.  The most thrilled I've seen Her yet was the other day at the fair, watching some drummers perform.  One of Her favorite things is listening to Little One sing.

SMILES
Still Her natural state of being.  Despite the sickness/teething fussiness and the loss of the pacifier and the new decision to be insulted by sleeping alone, Little Miss is still altogether the picture of a happy, easy baby.  She laughs and smiles so often; it's just hard to get this girl down.  And She still smiles when She meets people, smiles when you talk to Her, smiles when She sees the camera.  The best overall description of Miss would be: A smile, punctuated by toothlets, surrounded by cheeks, accessorized by baby. 

CUDDLES
This girl so loves to cuddle.  She's still not the quiet, pressed in, all-day-long kind of snuggler that Little One was (and largely still is).  But She wants very much always to be held, and to have Her arms around your shoulders so She can every so often lay Her head down and sigh.  She loves to grab my cheeks and dive in giggling to give me slobbery baby kisses.  She loves to grab onto us when we're within reach and yank us over to bury Her face in our shirts.

CHUBS
Miss keeps growing, and growing, and growing.  She's not actually a giant baby.  In fact, holding steady around the 30th percentile, as babies go She's actually on the smallish side of normal.  But that still puts Her only 10lb behind Her big sister, and has me ever unsure what drawer to put things in, since so many clothes fit them both. We are thrilled to see Her growing; so happy, and so healthy.

We are thrilled with Her in general! At seven months, I know we have begun the slide down the back of this first year, gathering steam as we roll away from Baby and into Toddler.  I'm so glad we have a few months left before we arrive.  I am eating up every chubby, cuddly, cooey, gooey baby moment I can!  But I'm also loving watching how much She grows and learns each day, and finding out more and more about Her personality all the time.  You know, seven is my lucky number!  And looking at Miss this month, that is just how we all feel.  Lucky. 

Moving On- Finale.

We were feeling very content after all the Kumbaya.  We'd had a long, long day, and the night was so calm and cozy that we all fell into a deep, complacent sleep out there by our serene little lake.  Aaaahhhh.
Have you ever been jolted out of a deep sleep?  It's very disconcerting.  Your brain can't quite put together what is going on- are you dreaming? Are you waking? Can you move yet?
And it was this kind of disorientation that accompanied the gut reaction of complete alarm when we were ripped from unconsciousness by a blindingly bright light and an extremely loud roaring, crunching noise coming right at us- and fast.
J and I went bolt upright, fumbling with the covers, as our little green tent was flooded with light and sound.  Instinctively my arms went out over my sleeping babies like a mother hen; as if they could protect them from the force of a large SUV flooring it down a steep gravel hill.
Because that's what it was.
The music was blaring, the tires were spinning.  It skidded down by the dock and doors slammed.
J and I, still reeling from the surprise, peered out of our little mesh window.  The lights were on inside, and all we could see was thick smoke.  The air pulsed with base; someone was wondering around the dock. We could make out voices but not words.
It was a Friday night.  Probably, a bunch of teenagers had come out here to hang out and drink from whatever was clinking and were nearly as surprised to see us as we were to see them.
Later J would gently joke, "how many poor old people do you think you scared like that, C?" And I would groan, "Oooh, Karma! It was you!"
But just then it wasn't funny.
We whispered in the tent as we patted the babies back to sleep that probably that's all it was.  Probably they were just minding their own business and would pay us no mind, probably they would leave soon, probably there was nothing to worry about.
Probably, all that was true.
But can I tell you something, about having little children?
Who depend on you, who are helpless but for you?
Probably doesn't cut it, folks.  Probably means nothing.
I was shaking. My heart was in my throat, I kept shielding my babies even as the car was parked yards away.  What if they decided to bother us because they were drunk and just fooling around? What if they were not harmless? What if they had hit us coming over that hill; what if someone else came along and did? What if 50,000 things which would probably never happen- but might. 
We debated in whispers; should we pack up and leave? No that's crazy. Should we just stay? But what if...?
Before too long the dark figures piled back into the car and roared away.  We went back to bed.  My heart had just stopped racing, I was just drifting back to sleep. Then another car came swerving and rumbling down that hill.  We shot back up, the adrenaline came surging back.  This car was certainly not expecting us; they held our little tent in their headlights a few moments, then swung around and raced away. 
Looks like our serene spot by day was a party spot by night.  And probably it was all harmless teens just hanging out.  But maybe not.  And even if it was, who can stand to go through that kind of wake-up call all night? And what kind of idiots let their babies sleep at the bottom of a blind hill that people are zooming over in the darkness? 
Call me crazy. Call me over-reactive, call me over-protective, go ahead- call me a mom.   I don't care. 
We packed up that camp so fast we should get some kind of boy-scout badge.  We tenderly lifted our sleepy angels into their car seats, and we set off on Huckleberry's trail in reverse, navigating by moonlight. 
At about 2am, we came into Birminhgam.  We were kumbaya-ed OUT.  We rolled down our windows in a vacant lot and J said, "what do you want to do?"  I told him I was too tired to think. You decide, I said. 
So I will tell you what he did. 
He took his girls to a suite at one of the nicest hotels in town, and put those poor sleepy angels to bed in soft cushy beds with big fluffy pillows and clean sheets.  We all slept in. We took hot baths in a clean tub, ate a big, hot breakfast.  And splashed the morning away at the pool.  

 

We washed all our clothes (which turned out to be a very, very good thing later) and all our dishes. And finally, when we felt like it, got back on the road- the biggest, fastest, most direct one- and got to our new home as fast as we could. 

Did we sell out at the end? Completely? I suppose so.  Or maybe we could just call it a grand finale to a very long, winding, sometimes rough but mostly fun adventure.  After all. Kumbaya can be found anywhere.  Maryland beaches, Kitty Hawk monuments, Smokey mountain ranges.  Long, scenic roads and small country rest stops. It can be found in a ditch, around a campfire, in a beautiful hidden lake.  It can be found in the middle of nowhere.  It can also be found, believe you me, at the Hilton.

There's something you realize I think, when you travel like this with your family. 
Between homes and in close quarters, making your way on the fly and seeing where circumstance and the addled GPS lead you.  Kumbaya is just like Home. 
It's wherever we're together. 
And so, after a week of Moving On, we stopped and planted it, for a while, in Florida. 
When we got to the house it was hot and dirty. For a few days there was no AC, no washer/dryer. no refrigerator, no hot water.  No furniture or clothes or Stuff of any kind.  There were gulf zombies and we were all still sleeping on the floor.  It was perfect! We were all there together. 
So it was home. 
 
Kumbaya. 

Moving On- Treasure Hunt

Al-a-ba-ma.
Such a pretty place.  Such a lot of wide, open space.  Such a lot of nothing but wide, open space.
We enjoyed our drive through here, too, but we continued to have problems finding places to camp.  It's the dogs, you know.
The irony is that one of the top reasons we decided to camp on this trip was to make it more dog-friendly. But while one might surmise that the wilderness would be a welcoming place for animals, it turns out most campgrounds to do not allow our furry friends to join in the s'mores making.  Go figure.
Since we'd had trouble searching for places after it was really too late and we were too tired for that to be any fun, we decided to stop early this time so we could have a nice relaxing evening hanging out with nature. We decided to just go to the nearest campground!
Where would that be, though...exactly? Hmm.  Google it!
Right. You know what happens when a couple of yuppie DC city-slickers dependent on technology get out into the very thick of Al-a-ba-ma?  Well their hybrid cars start to feel a little self-conscious around all those big rusty trucks.  Their GPS navigation kind of shrugs and goes, "dude. I'm not from around here."  And they get lost. Using GPS in middle-of-nothing-Alabama is like trying to graze your cows in Dupont Circle; some things don't mesh.
So we did something crazy!  We stopped and asked someone. Apparently you can do that.
We stopped at a gas station.
J got out and approached the only person in sight with shoes on.  He had galoshes, up to his hips.  He was not tiny.  He had blonde hair poking out from beneath a camouflage hat; he had on a tank top. And suspenders.  He had a huge blue truck, on gigantic wheels, with one bumper sticker of the confederate flag, and another with the image of a pistol and the inscription "I'm your Huckleberry".
J, in his Yankees T-Shirt, walked over from his prius, and introduced himself.
Well Huckleberry was extremely friendly and helpful.  He spent a long time explaining to J the only place he knew nearby where "people sometimes camped".  The directions were long and contained key phrases such as "where it forks", "don't turn by the gate go the other way", and "there's two roads take the dirt one". It included one very skeptical survey of our two-wheel drive caravan followed by "you can probably make it up that hill."
We did our best to follow this verbal map, and soon we were bumping along through plumes of red dust; barely making it up several hills.  Do you want to know where we were, guys?
I can't tell you. We've no idea.  Here is what the GPS thinks:

Take a look at that right screen there.  It is fully zoomed out.  We are the arrow.
Do you see where we are?
In the middle of ABSOLUTELY NOwhere Peanuts.
That's where.  And after a couple of HOURS of crunching gravel out in Nowhere, we seriously considered just setting up camp on the side of the road and getting it over with.
"What could happen?" I asked. "It's not like some park ranger, or probably any human being at all, is going to come strolling along and kick us out".
"True," answered J, "but we are surrounded by "private property" signs, and I'm more concerned about squatting on someone's land whose idea of justice might be a sawed-off shotgun".
(I would have to give you a better explanation of our local observations to fully justify the consideration of this possibility, but just trust that it was not based purely on speculation.)
So we turned around, following our tracks in the dust like a breadcrumb trail, and slowly crawled back to the pavement.
But on the way back, J decided to try one more turn.
The landmarks started to make Huckleberry's descriptions make sense.  We were on the right track!
Now look.
A lot of time had been wasted and we were starting to be a little, well, over it.
There was too much driving and too many posted restrictions and not enough communing with nature and catching marshmallows on fire and such.
This camping thing was not turning out to have enough kumbaya in it, guys. You know? 
So we were getting a little Over It when we came to the peak of a very big hill, and plunged down the other side-
and found this:

Kum.Ba.Ya. People.
Right there.
The pictures don't get it.  It was this beautiful, pristine lake surrounded by hilly forest. There was no one else around, it was like a secret paradise.  The air was warm and perfect, there was a little dock just for us.

We cooked a good dinner and swam in the lake.

Jump!

The water was the perfect temperature.  It was so clean, when we got out there was no algae smell, no slimy skin...it felt like we'd had an actual bath. It washed all the red dust and the Over It away.

Little One played fetch with the dogs- who were in complete heaven, by the way- and chased fireflies on the grass.

It is one of the prettiest, most peaceful places I have ever been.  It was so relaxing and lovely that it was-stunningly- worth the ridiculous trip to get to it.  We had such a nice time that it was worth camping all the way across the country just for that one zen evening of blissful family/nature togetherness. 

We tucked the kids into bed and had a glass of wine on the dock.  We dipped our toes in the water and talked about what a nice place it was.  We cozied into our tent with a cool breeze whispering through the warm air, and the crickets humming us to sleep.  Kuuuuumbayaaaaa.
Yes guys.  It was perfect.  Perfect, perfect.  Almost...too perfect....

Ode-or

A song composed by Little One, crooned to me from a tight cuddle at bedtime:

"Moooommy, moooomy, you-are-a fweeeeety! Moommmy, mooooomy, I like you!
I love you my mommy, because you are not stinky! You are not stinky you are just a pretty maaammaaaa, I! Love! Yoooooou!" 

Moving On- Touring the Smokies

We woke up to a glorious day.  We had a long way to go, but we decided to make the most of it.  If we had to be in the car, we decided, we could at least enjoy the ride.  No more big interstates where all you see is the backside of a semi and some gas stations.
J and I had gone old-school with a pen and a map and picked out our own route through the Smokies.  We decided that even if it stretched our trip out a bit longer, we were taking the scenic route.
Starting with a road that climbs way up the mountains and skims aaaaall along the ridges of the mountain range, we drove through some of the most beautiful views I have ever seen.

It sometimes seemed unreal, it was that gorgeous. 
We took our time at first, stopping for a coffee in "Little Switzerland" (a town about half a block long) and playing fetch with the dogs at an overlook.

We watched jagged peaks melt into soft mountains, we watched those fade into rolling hills and finally give way to the flat topography of Alabama.

Too bad it couldn't last forever.
But it couldn't. Because at some point, you have to sleep.  And for the second time in a wouldn't-you-think-we'd-have-learned-to-call-ahead-row, the campsite we thought we were headed towards was nowhere to be found.  We decided to buy some dinner in a place where we could consult our phones for a back-up plan. 
Since we were going to eat out instead of by camp-grill, we thought we should at least go local and try the endemic cuisine.  We were in Alabama, you know.  So we ate here:

Oh.  It was special.
After that culinary experience, we were not feeling high-spirited enough to go searching for campgrounds in the dark.  We gave up and crashed at a hotel.  It wasn't fancy, but we had hot baths and showers, and a nice early bedtime.  It was a nice, quiet end to the day.  It's good we got our rest.  We had some adventures left to come. 

Moving On- Room at the Inn

all those black dots are teeny vampires

We had planned on a nice morning at the beach.  But the vengeful relatives of the mosquitoes we had swatted were waiting for us in the morning.  So we packed up lickety split and got the you know what out of there. Now we know why they call it Kill Devil Hills. 

 We skipped our campfire oatmeal and sold out for a nice breakfast at a diner in town.  Then we decided that we'd run into a patch of not-great luck there in NC, and we should get away from it!  So we drove.
And drove.
And drove.
We drove the entire breadth of North Carolina, until we found ourselves in the foothills of the Smokey Mountains.

 It was so breathtakingly beautiful that we forgot how tired we were.  We forgot how tired we were of driving.  We oooohhed and aaaahhhhed and were distracted with amazement.
Until the campground we were going to sleep at turned out not to exist.  And in fact, no campgrounds seemed to exist, anywhere, for miles and miles.  We drove and drove and drove. It was starting to get dark,  and we were all hungry, and suddenly remembering that we had been strapped in the car for 12 hours. 
We backtracked to the only thing we had seen for hours, the "family campground".  It was an RV park.
We talked to the lady who owned it; she came buzzing out to us on her golf cart. We asked if there was anywhere we could pitch our tent, please. Please, please, please.  The baby wailed.  Little One whimpered.  The dogs cowered before the "no pets over 25 lb" sign.
I thought of Mary, going from inn to inn in the Christmas story, and never finding a place to rest.  The keeper who let her crash in the barn must have given her the same "I pity you, fool" look this lady gave me.  We don't take anything but RV's here, she said.  But well... if we wanted to, we could find a spot and camp for the night.  She charged us practically nothing.  At that point, I swear, I nearly went for another group hug.
We set up camp, fixed a quick dinner, and put all the babies and pets to bed just as the rain began to fall.  J and I sat out by candle light and opened a bottle of wine. The air was cool and smelled like pine trees. There were NO mosquitoes.  All's well that ends well, isn't it?  It was a long couple of days.  But it's a good thing to learn that while most of the time we can count on ourselves, when we can't (and we crash the car and plan poorly and drive around cluelessly) there is the kindness of strangers.  Kind of a nice thing to come upon in the messy world. Something I love about adventures like this one; finding treasures along the way. 

Moving On Day 3-The Stinging Beach

After Kitty Hawk, the girls and I met J for our second night of camping.  He had picked out a gorgeous spot right on the beach of the Outer Banks.  He had picked up fresh local fish to grill.  We were excited!
But it did not go as planned.
J forgot the tent poles in my car, so camp was not set up when we got there.  He had been waiting for us outside. When we pulled up to this man- on the beach in lovely weather, sunset just beginning- you'd think we'd find a relaxed, happy sort of fellow, despite the lack of tent poles.  Right?
Uh, nope.  He did NOT look happy.  He looked....bumpy.
And he was.  Because it turns out that this particular beach had mosquitoes.  THOUSANDS of them.  They had to compete with biting sand flies for your flesh, but they seemed to be winning out, overall.  There were thick clouds of them.  They were everywhere.  They were hungry.
So were we, but there was no way we could let the babies be devoured while we cooked.  So I took them out to the water while J got those blasted tent poles out and made a refuge.  The water was just a quick walk across the dunes.  Just a hot, sweaty, mine-field of CACTUS, carrying two unhappy children while trudging through sand up and down hills and being EATEN ALIVE along the way, stroll to the water.
Once we got there, the ocean breeze blew away the clouds of biting bugs and Miss gasped and giggled in the salty wind.  Little One splashed into the surf in Her sun dress screaming "This is so much fun! This is so so FUN!"  She got soaked, I cooled my bites in the water, we watched the sky get pink.  It was the eye in the histamine hurricane. Then we headed back. 
This beach hates people.  It must. There were:

mosquitoes
biting sand flies
stinging nettles
cactus all over
Stickers and goat-head thorns

Our idyllic spot wasn't working out.
The kids were miserable; little cacti and stickers kept getting lodged in toes, and the welts on both girls were swollen and angry looking.
The dogs were miserable- their freshly-shaved coats did little to protect them, and they were rolling and scratching as they were covered in bites too. They ran away and came back limping, with cactus chunks in their paws.
We were miserable.  Because all our babies were miserable. 
It had been a hot, sticky day, so we decided to brave the "rustic" showers, even though the mosquitoes were worst there, with all the water pooling on the ground.
It was a special shower.  A wooden stall on a little hill, with a spigot at the top. You had to hold this metal bar above your head to keep the water on.  The cold water.  Which gave you one hand for washing and swatting mosquitoes.  There were no lights.  Which meant you had to do it more or less in the dark, which was just as well.  That way I didn't realize until I opened the door and the moonlight came in that I had been showering all cozy-like with an enormous spider.  TMI alert.  But please imagine- not in too much detail- but for your amusement, the idea of standing starkers in a wooden shack, in the dark, with one hand stuck above your head, soap in your eyes, hopping around like a complete loon because you are a a slicked-up smorgasbord for dozens of biting insects.  Hopping around in the icy water slapping yourself all over and laughing like a nut because seriously. Is this really happening.
Now.  Imagine jumping wet into your PJs and tearing down the hill holding your pants up with one hand and flying back to your campsite, followed by a cloud of demonic insects.  Imagine us all- dogs included because we couldn't leave them out in that mess- fleeing into the safety of the tent in the early darkness.
Whew.  Safe.
And then. Flicking on the lantern.  Looking up.  At the ceiling of the tent.  Black. Moving. 
Realizing that in the moments it took to open the door and go in, DOZENS of mosquitoes had swarmed in with us.  How cozy!  Forget bedbugs, people.  Can you imagine sleeping like a sitting target with dozens of mosquitoes in close quarters?  We'd be sucked dry by morning!
So now picture J and I.  Again, like total lunatics, hopping around.  With flapping, flailing arms.  Swatting at tiny black flying flecks in the shadowy lantern light until we had smashed every. last. one.   I'm telling you- many dozens and we squashed them one. by. one.  It was disgusting. Our babies and dogs watched us with awe, unsure whether to be impressed, amused, or concerned.
After the swatting frenzy J and I settled in, worn out, and finally went to sleep in the hot, thick air.
J pulled up the blanket. "This is sooo fun." 

Moving On- Kitty Hawk

 After my car was freed we found J and settled for a parking lot lunch, and then drove on towards our next stop in North Carolina.When we finally got close J went ahead to set up camp, and I took the girls with me to Kitty Hawk. 

OMG.  

Kitty Hawk!
Here is a little window into my warped self.  I have a....well a thing. For airplanes.  

I can't explain it, exactly, but I have a serious affection for airplanes. I wouldn't call it an obsession exactly, but you know how some people get all giddy over movie stars or a band or cars or really great shoes?  My thing is airplanes.  Yes I'm a nerd.  But there you have it. 

So of course I have always wanted to go to Kitty Hawk- the place that the first flight took off.  And I did guys! I DID! 
It was just as great as I knew it would be.  There was a monument on the hill that the first plane took off from. 

There was a museum with photos and facts and memorabilia! 

There was the original hangar and workshop, preserved for me to swoon over!  

I loved it.  Little One loved it.  She wanted very much to learn.  

She was told it was the birthplace of flight.  

"what that mean, mama?"

Well, I guessed it was called that because the very first ever airplane was born there, right on that spot.  

Later we were at the museum learning about Orville and Wilbur Wright.  I explained that they were the ones who made the very first plane.  She thought awhile.  

 
"Mommy.  This plane have one, two daddy.  Have two daddies just like M have two daddies!"

Our friend M does have two daddies.  And Little One is astute.  There was that plane, just born.  There were its parents, plain as day.  A man called Wilbur, and a man called Orville, but no mommies.  

Apparently the Wright brothers were gay.  

After making this discovery, we walked the grounds and looked at the flight markers on the field.  Little One had another observation to make. 

LO: "Mommy.  You know, airplanes are very useful"

C: "Oh, yes."
LO: "Yes.  They are very useful for surgery."
C: "For....surgery?"
LO: "Oh yes.  Airplanes are very useful for surgery." 

It took a little more talking before I realized why airplanes are so useful in a hospital setting.  It's because they were used for flight.  

C: "Little One, are you thinking about daddy?  About how he is a flight surgeon?"
LO: "Yes! Yes mama and airplanes are for fly surgery too! I tol' you they are very useful."  

And so they are.  

Moving On- Ditched

We crossed the Chesapeake on huge arching bridges and long tiled tunnels, stopping at the end to take in the view.

 We sort of rambled down to North Carolina, pulling over for peaches, cantaloupe, and pie at the side of the road. 

 The girls were both very good nomads, complaining not at all.  The dogs got to smell so many new things, they were happy happy.  In fact everything was going great!
Until we got hungry.
We were looking for a nice spot to eat our sandwiches.  But we turned down a street and found ourselves stuck in a long line of cars trapped behind some kind of construction.  We waited and waited.  Time passed. Hungry children complained. "Just turn around!" I texted to J, in front of me, "Lets get out of here."  He spun his car in a tight little arc, and sped off, away from the jam, and I followed.  I turned the car.  I knew it was tight turning there, just at the edge of that ditch on the other side of the road.  But J did it easily and I was in a hurry.  Miss was screaming and J was already out of sight.  So I went a little too fast, not taking as much care about that tight turn as I should have I guess.  My front right tire grazed the edge of the ditch. Just a little! But that sandy edge crumbled away, and the momentum of the car propelled us OFF the road... INTO the ditch.  Mostly in.  With the back left tire still grounded, the rest of the car just sort of teetered there. The kids were smooshed against the right wall of their car seats.  Miss was shocked into silence. Little One was shrieking Her head off.  "OH NOOOO!!!!!"  I calmed Her down. I gingerly stepped out.  Surveyed the situation.  Turned so Little One could not see me.  And swore.
J was long gone.  He wouldn't have seen us, he didn't answer my call.  We were stuck.
But then something happened. 
Two guys left their car in the long line and came over to us.
"Ma'am! Oh man oh man. I want to help you! I want to help you so bad ma'am! You have babies in there and everything!"  I told this young wanna-be hero to be my guest.  He and his friend were trying to figure out what to do, but it wasn't working. Then out of nowhere, they started appearing.  From all directions they emerged.  Random dudes.  They came from trucks! From small sedans! They came from sports cars and minivans! And the six of them circled my car, counted, heaved, and pushed it right out of that ditch and back onto the road. 
"We did it!" cried the young hero.  "Thank you thank you!" I cried.  Everyone stood there kind of excited, kind of awkward, not knowing what to do next.  So of course I said the only logical thing.  I say things sometimes, without thinking first.
"Group hug!"
And me and six strangers all gathered together in that little ditch for a nice hug.  Yes we did.  Then without a word, they returned to their batcaves, and I got back in the car.  Little One was impressed.
"Mommy! Those guys was helpin-ed us?"
"Yes, Little One, they did.  That was really nice of them."
"Yah, cause daddy is not here.  I was so worried bout that mommy, with mine daddy not here for helpin-ed us. But it's ok now!" 
And it was.

Moving On: Interesting Wildlife

Are we crazy? Are we totally insane? YES! 
We like it that way people.
What's the problem with two babies and two dogs and two grown ups and one tent?  A bunch of nothin', people. That's what!
We left our goodbye sleepover party and headed towards the Eastern Shore for one last goodbye.  J's dad and stepmom.  We spent the afternoon talking and playing, and watching a ginormous lightning storm roll in and look very dramatic. Were we daunted? NO!  Because we were at the beginning of the trip and our enthusiasm was in full force Peanuts! We can camp in a giant storm! Just watch us! Not wind nor sleet nor snow would stop us! 
And so it didn't try.  The storm passed and beautiful weather broke out in time for us to get to Chincoteague. A magical island where wild ponies roam and the weather is perfect.  Seriously. 
We got a spot right on the water, ate under a full moon, and snuggled up in our tent for a happy sleep. 
In the morning we saw that wild ponies weren't the only creatures unique to the island.  While making breakfast, a large hairy animal emerged and clomped over to the tree next to our campfire.  It yawned and made strange grunting noises.  It leaned up against the pine and rubbed against it, scratching its back.  It said, "G'marnin".  Yes it did.  It said, "G'marnin.  How long ya'all stayin? All week I guess?"
Good gosh it talks! Then I noticed that the creature wasn't totally naked, it had some boxer-shorts on.  Oh my holymoly, it must be part human!   And it was Peanuts, it really was!  It was a nice one, too.

We informed the Bear-Man that we were actually leaving after breakfast and he guffawed.  "Campin for jest one night?  That's a lot of work for one night isn't it?"  He had an excellent point.  But we were nomads, guys.  We were all like, psht.  This is how we do, man. 
And with that, we packed up camp.  We took a nice drive, we pet some wild ponies, and we hit the road.  After stopping for coffee, of course.  We're hybrid sorts ourselves.  

Moving On- Day 1

After we left our little house, our first stop was J’s aunt’s place in Southern Maryland.  We had planned a sleepover there with two of the little cousins, which Little One was looking forward to.  When we got there I thought, sheesh.  The neighbors must be having a big party or something.  There are cars lining the street!

I was half right.  There was a party, but it was for us!  The entire extended family from the Southern Maryland faction was there to send us off.  There were three kinds of cake.  It was awesome.  We had a blast and after it was over, all the littlest cousins stayed for the sleepover; seven littles in pajamas running amok. 

They had a blast, and all stayed up past bedtime watching Nemo and munching popcorn from little bowls.  Little One is still talking about it.  It was a great way to start our big trip. 

Because you don’t think we’d just hop on a plane and get where we’re going, do you? NO! 

We had two cars to take with us, so we drove.  We had two dogs and two kids to take with us, so we knew there would be a lot of stops.  So we decided to make a trip of it. 

A CAMPING trip.  

Ready to hit the road...

The Move

J and I, we were just babies it seems.  When we got married a whole 5 years ago.  It seems like a lifetime in some ways, since then.  I guess if you ask Little One and Little Miss, it has been. 

After our wedding we went right on our honeymoon.  When we got back, we said goodbye in the airport.  J went off to officer training with the Navy, I went back to the vestiges of our pre-married life in Arizona, packed it up (ok the movers packed it up) and my mom and sister and I drove it out East and planted it in Maryland. 

By the time J got there, we were all moved in.  So you see, our whole married life took place there.  We worked, got a puppy, bought a house.  Renovated the house with our own novice hands, made friends- great ones- got to know the neighbors.  Brought home our two sweet babies to that house, and watched them grow like the gardens we planted. 

So it was a little sad to go.  To leave all that we had built, and especially the people we’d grown close to.  It was a little sad to know that it was our last trip to the peach picking farm, our last festival on the National Mall, our last meal at our favorite places.  We will miss the DC area.  It is a seriously amazing place!  We will miss the familiar conveniences of a home made to fit our preferences, and we will REALLY miss our friends.

But! But the world is so big, and life is so wide open, and to have the chance to explore it and expand it and find even more great people and favorite places is thrilling.  To get to do it all together as a family, a traveling band of exclamation marks (Look! A beach! Look! A pizza place!) is a kind of fun that feels almost like flying. 

We will miss the place we became a family.  But I hope that it will become the first of many dots that we will someday be able to plot out on a map, with winding, swooping lines between them.  I hope the friends and experiences we picked up there will be the start of a great, eclectic collection.  It’s a beginning. 

New York Finale

To wrap up our trip, we went to New Jersey where my aunt had a party for the three of us celebrating birthdays.  There was lots of food, fun in the pool, more oh-so-cool older cousin time for Little One, more adoration for Miss, and cake.  I even got a birthday kiss!
I have to say something about these folks.
I was what? Twelve I think.  When my step-dad married my mom, and my sister and I came along; a packaged deal.  We weren't adorable little babies; and in fact for a good long while we made it our business not to be adorable AT ALL.  These people didn't have a particular reason to fall in love with us, and they didn't owe us anything, that's for sure.  But.
At that wedding, I remember someone saying to me, "welcome to the family!"
And since that day, we have been.  These people have adopted us in every sense, and never made us feel like we came late to the family-togetherness party.  Even though we kind of did.
You don't get to choose your family.  Or really, your step-family either.  But you do get to choose how you treat those you're stuck with.  And I'll always be grateful that these guys seem to have unanimously chosen to be awesome to us.  And I'll always be happy we're stuck with them.

I'm sorry that we're moving so much further away from this side of our family; it's been nice to be a train-ride away.  But it was wonderful to get them almost all in one spot once more before we go, and to get to introduce Little Miss in person.  And I know we'll see each other again as time goes by. 
We'll make a point to.  That's what Family does.