Going Home

Almost every year I take a journey out to Montana. I wish I could fly from Charlottesville to Helena, but the going rate is usually around $650, as opposed to the $270 I paid for the direct flight from D.C. into Salt Lake City. I might even consider it if it weren't for the minimum of 2 layovers and the fact that I have to buy 4 tickets. It adds up quickly.

I drove up to D.C. on Monday night, and arrived at about 8:30 pm. For some reason I thought that would be good timing, since my kids would be ready for bed. I don't know if it was something in the air, but as soon as we walked into the hotel room they became like children possessed. They were so wired that it was impossible to get them to settle down until almost 9:30. Mason didn't crash until after 10:00, and Andrew fell asleep on my head sometime around 11:00. Did I mention we had a 5:30 a.m. wakeup call?

When I finally pulled Andrew out of bed the next morning, he was so exhausted and disoriented that he screamed all the way down to the front door and did his best to lean forward in his stroller so that his head would drag on the floor. Add to that 2 other kids and all the luggage, and we made for a really pretty sight. At least they were dressed in style:




We were lucky to sail through check-in (a $10 well spent), and onto the plane. I was smart and booked aisle and window seats for the four of us, hoping the middle seats wouldn't get taken. They both got filled, but the person in between Andrew and I wisely opted to change to the one last available seat in the plane, giving Andrew and I the row to ourselves, and the middle person between Mason and Katie was happy to get a window. Exhausted 2-year olds are miserable to fly with--it was the longest flight of my life (or at least on par with Australia).

It's amazing how emotionally vulnerable I can when I'm that exhausted. The grouchy woman who sarcastically said "Why don't I let you guys go first" after Mason bumped into her while getting off the plane about made me cry, as did the very nice man who helped to push my overloaded luggage cart to the car rental place. I was just so grateful to get to the car and drive. The seven-hour drive to Montana was the part I was the least worried about.

We stopped after 3 hours in Basalt, Idaho to see Ryan's Aunt Kathryn and Aunt Mona. The kids got to burn off some energy and take a ride on Aunt Kathryn's scooter with her:


Plus, we got some awesome cinnamon rolls that helped us make it through the rest of the trip. We made the last 4-hours without stopping, so I have to give the kids some credit for that. As for me, I had a wonderful drive. I downloaded the book "The Host" by Stephanie Meyer (the author of the "Twilight" series), and so far it has been a great book and kept me very engaged through the whole drive.

Everything is worth it, though, for that feeling of coming home. I don't know how much longer my parents will live here, so I try to soak it in every time I come. I love the mountains I see right after crossing the border into Montana, and everything is so green right now. I have driven this road so many times between my summers in Jackson Hole and my years at BYU. Each landmark tells me I'm a little closer to home.

My parents still live in the same house that we moved to when I was 5 years old, and my bedroom has the same pink wallpaper that was put on when I was about 8. My kids play with the same fisher-price camper set I used to love, and ride bikes out on the same street I did. Although I am really excited for my parents to move somewhere a little more convenient to travel to, it breaks my heart to think that in the not-to-distant future I will no longer be able to come back to this home.

After arriving, we got to watch the last half of the Celtics-Lakers game. I let the kids stay up for the whole thing, which I'm kind of paying for today, but I'm glad they got to see it. It made for a great ending to a really long day.