We made it down to Houston for the weekend. And it was lovely. I just love my extended family.
Laurel bought a new house and so we celebrated with a house-warming party. It was so fun to see everyone. I wish I could get down there more often. But the four hour drive turns into five or six hours with three littles in the car. And Max is the worst traveller I have ever encountered. Ever. The drive back up to Dallas was one of the best we've had. He only cried for about forty minutes of the trip. Forty. He just hates the car seat. I have learned a lot about keeping the agony at bay by passing him toys whenever I hear a fuss. So every time we pull over (which is more frequently than I would prefer), I collect all the toys and prep for the next leg. It seemed to do the trick until he started getting tired and ready for a nap. Why that child hates to sleep in the car I will never know, but he does. So finally he cried himself to sleep, and we passed the rest I the journey in relative enjoyment.
There was a brief period that everyone (except me) was crying with some intensity. Max was tired. Ella was upset about the audio choices. And I'm actually pretty sure Charlotte just joined in to add to the chaos. Hers was not a face of grief.
Ah well, it passed. And we're home. And we have some new chef's hats and aprons to show for it. Thanks, Grandma. Charlotte likes to run around calling herself a 'cooker girl'. Love that kid.