After a lengthy time in Sanibel, we're back home in Atlanta. Well, Marietta, specifically. The drive between the two points clocks in at about 10 hours according to Google. Back when the kids required multiple bottle feedings and diaper changing the trip lengthened to 12-13 hours, which borders on absurd - it pushed beyond the boundary which I feel comfortable driving in one day, but it's just short of the threshold for requiring an overnight stay, thus, I am forced to complete the drive in one whack.
This trip, however, seemed to fly by... the kids are (mostly) potty-trained, and must have bladders of steel as they don't require using the facilities more than once in 2-3 hours. We left yesterday morning at about 9 am and arrived in Marietta right at 7 pm - that includes stops for breakfast, lunch, gas, snacks and bathrooms. I think we made four stops total, each no more than 30 minutes and some less so.
In any event, the trip was very smooth -- great weather for driving and the kids were well-behaved. We opted not to depart at o'dark thirty, because...well, because I didn't feel like getting up early. We stayed up late to watch Survivor and I couldn't bring myself to rise at 5 or 6 in the morning after going to bed at 12:45am. So we had a nice morning breakfast (kids only) and got to bid grandma goodbye until January, when we plan to come down for great-grandmother's 90th birthday.
Oh, lest I forget. Friday night, we sat down to play the nightly games of Rummikub, and we were interrupted by a knock on the sliding glass door (the kids were sleeping on the lanai). Maya informed us that "somebody pooped". I should warn you that the rest of this paragraph is a bit pooptacular, to skip it if you can't stand schiße talk. I walked out to the lanai, and Devin was peering from under his covers, and I smelled the familiar stench. I assumed he had taken himself to task in his pull-ups. I was a bit mistaken. After consulting with Maya, who generally tells the truth in such matters, they were playing a game, in which they dared each other to poop "on the lifeguard stand", which was what they called the stoop on which the sliding glass door rests (I don't know why, that's just what they called it). Devin took up Maya's dare and dropped poop on the stoop, and then pulled up his pull-up cacare interruptus and was besmeared all up his back. Haz-mat teams were dispatched, children showered, stoop cleaned, punishments administered, and then we were able to resume Rummikub, but the night would not be the same.
