With the close of the summer and the hay season, we get to see our Papa more. Recently we got to be with him for 11 straight days. We decided to make a vacation and pack as much as we could into the 11 days.
First stop, Mount Rushmore in South Dakota.
The Black Hills of South Dakota reminded me of parts of North Carolina. It was a really pretty and easy ride.
We studied about Mt. Rushmore during our presidential unit back in February. We were VERY familiar with the presidents and the information.
Wooster had been through the area back in 2001 with just his motorcycle. Thirteen years later, two kids and a wife, he came full circle.
We flew from Rapid City, SD to Denver, then Denver to Atlanta. We’ve spent a lot of time in airports, with two kids. Our main goal during any time at the airport is to let them run, move, jump, and play as much as possible.
In Denver we had to walk out from the plane, to the plane each time and then into the bottom area of the airport. For us, in all the travels, we’ve never had to walk out to the air plane. It’s interesting. Our plane also had propellers.
The trip from Denver to Atlanta could be classified as “worst flight ever”. Ruby was great. Clara…not so much. We were THAT family with a screaming kid. She got mad at the upright tray and it was downhill for our section for a solid 30 minutes. Thirty minutes of straight screaming, crying, snot, on an enclosed tube with 150 other people equals to a LONG ride. THIRTY MINUTES. There was NOTHING that was going to make her stop, make her happy or calm her. We tried every single thing from snacks, food, water, pacifier, holding her tight, straws, cups, sitting in her own seat, letting her loose, playing with a toy, EVERYTHING. It only made her madder and she would chunk anything handed to her. At one point she was screaming and trying to crawl under the seat in front of her. I’m pretty sure she stole the water bottle out of someone’s bag while under the seat. THIRTY MINUTES of yelling on an airplane feels like 5 hours to the parents and I’m sure everyone around us was having a pleasant experience. From a direct quote of the single, well kept, probably-never-been-around-kids girl behind my seat yelled out “are we there yet? How much LONGER will this last?”, I figured they were ready to get off the plane just as much as I was. One of the guys in front of us got up and NEVER returned. I was seriously thinking of asking the pilot to pull over to let us off. Finally, in the 31st minute of the tantrum, she stopped screeching and climbed calmly back into her seat and asked for water. She was done. We had an hour and half of flight to go. I prayed the whole time. She made it to Atlanta without any more tantrums.
There aren’t any pictures of us in any of the airplanes. I was a little preoccupied.
But there’s Georgia.
It’s home. Home, home.
It’s green, lush, rolling hills, diverse trees and people. (We live in “White Wyoming”)
It is cousins, parents, grandparents, great grandparents and lifelong friends. My people.
We have a ball every time we go.
Well, most of us do. The little one is pretty attached to her mama and papa. But she made it through.
And Krispy Kreme. Those are in Georgia too. Yes, she had one and she LOVED it.
Georgia is always on our mind….and doughnuts. Those are too.
**This blog post is one in a series of three (or four) about our adventures in Georgia**
