LEAVING THE NEST

I'm back. Did you miss me?  I'm kind of bamboozled and shellshocked.

The babeola does not travel well. She doesn't sleep in the car. She doesn't sleep in the pack'n'play. Or the hotel crib. When she doesn't sleep, we don't sleep.

Which is a fun way to gear up for a 15 hour drive.

Never again.

If it hadn't been for the memorial service for my grandparents, we would not have gone.

Even though she loved the cows, horses, and the open land to roam on the family farm. Plus, there were multiple baby pools full of water for her to dip her toes in, which is like, you know, toddler nirvana.

Thank God for DVD players. We went through two this trip. The first one up and died and I immediately gave my husband marching orders to travel the Kansas prairie until he found another one.

Keeping DVDs on a constant loop in the minivan saved our souls.

Other than that, the trip was bittersweet. The picnic pavilion on the farm had a bird's nest in the eaves. The babies went nuts every time momma or poppa flew by, mouths open wide shrieking 'feed me, feed me'. At the end of the reunion though, we watched them stretch their wings for their first flight into the big world. The nest was too small to hold them any longer.

I felt the same way. The farm is no longer my nest. I have outgrown my prairie roots, especially now that I don't have my grandmother to ground me.

I hope we go back at least once when the babeola is older so she knows where her family came from, but after that, I think I'm done. I'm too liberal, too world weary, and not nearly religious enough to fit in. It doesn't feel like family any more.

Time to leave the nest.