Well, another late blog post, no excuses this time - I got wrapped up in following a couple of message board and blog threads. I must say that I’m learning a lot in a few places about racism and racial misconceptions (the difference being one involves action the other just ignorance). I hate to say this without explanation, but I’m both a tad bit embarrassed by the POV some adoptive parents purvey, as well some blatant misconceptions on some folks in the anti-adoption world. Why is it that people refuse to just research and learn from one another before talking? I think that sometimes people type before they think even worse then they speak before they think.
On to what I really wanna write about. The road trip!
My last post was actually uploaded from my Father in Law’s house down in North Carolina. We have a wonderful visit with Grandpa in BBQ country. But, we’re talking about a 8.5 hour drive without kids. Yah. Um Yah - a bit scary no? Let’s review the trip.
Plan: Daddy works from home on a Wednesday, with the intention of giving the dog a bath and leaving right before a late naptime so the first part of our trip would consist of CJ napping. Then we would stop for a casual dinner and stay overnight half way to our destination.
Reality: CJ has a weary meltdown right around 1 and pretty much has to take her nap immediately or end up totally miserable for the rest of the day. A lot of nonsense comes up at work and the dog bath starts way too late in the afternoon.
Result: Family leaves about two hours after planned time. CJ finds a way to keep herself moderately happy until close to dinner time when the whining begins. Somehow we hold out until West Virginia where we searched out a Roy Rogers advertised from the highway. So we exit I-81 then see a sign telling us Roy’s is 2 miles. WHAT? Isn’t there a distance limit for these blue interstate signs? Turns out there was one visible from the highway from the very next exit. What gives? So we found our way to a rest stop and enjoyed our meal. What a difference a little break and a full belly does for a 14 month old. Oh what is it about a Roy Roger’s burger that tastes so much better? Maybe it’s because we don’t have many in PA? It just tasted like beef! So anyway - CJ was zonked within 10 minutes of getting back in her car seat and we made our way to the hotel by about 11PM.
None of us slept well, but we managed to hit the road at a reasonable time and had an excellent rest of the drive through beautiful Southern VA and NW Carolina. We had learned our lesson the night before and kept that little belly as full as possible.
CJ’s Grand-daddy being a minister, he often has last minute things to which he must attend - so we were able to hang around the parsonage for a bit prior to Grand-Daddy bear and Baby Punkin being re-united. CJ spent the rest of the afternoon just kindof keeping an eye on him, but by the next afternoon, they were buds again and she actually seemed peaved whenever he left the room.
And leave it to the resourceful minister to find a way to weave his little grand-daughter into his Sermon. Little did I realize that CJ’s feisty play with a fork would become a lesson for an entire congregation! You see, CJ has a way of checking out who’s in charge. During one of our two trips to C&W Cafeteria (yummo!) Carmen decided to whack her fork on the table a few times. After being told to stop, she paused looked at both me and her Grandfather…. then whacked her fork lightly on her plate. What a great lesson in authority!
What else did we do? Watched Grandpa work on his boat, watched Grandpa make French onion soup, watched Grandpa make pancakes, slept unfazed through a nasty T-storm, went to a fish fry (double yummo!) and met about 250 people in a matter of 2 hours!
CJ did great on the ride home, but that return turned out to be a bit of an adventure. A few observations:
Hard boiled eggs are the perfect protein. They’re cheap, fill a small belly, and take a little while to eat.
A child that sleeps for 2.5 hours without moving in a carseat will release her bladder, particularly if she’s had a cup of water and an 8 oz bottle. This amount of liquid in that position will escape even a well applied diaper.
Sometimes dogs need to have their behinds wiped. Good thing we carry a big supply these days. If you need to ask - you don’t know my dog.
Travel stop proprietors are sexist. They almost always place changing tables in lady’s rooms, but seldom men’s rooms.
OK, help me out here. At one stop, there was indeed one of those fold down changing tables in the men’s room. Instructions were provided in Braille. So. Um. Yah. This was at a gas station. Let’s just take a leap of faith here. I suppose I could see a blind person raising a child whose still in diapers. I’m sure there are some examples out there. Such a parent would need some assistance for sure, but I can imagine it working. Let’s go the next step. As I said, this was a gas station, but the blind man with the baby could certainly been a passenger. And I’m certain a blind person could make their way to a restroom whether with a little direction or even a seeing eye dog. Given all of that, I’m sure that same dude could navigate a public bathroom and even find the Braille equipped changing table, and follow the instructions. Next step would be to lower the table and place the baby thereon. No problem certainly. Removing cloths and a diaper, certainly this could be done - I’m imagining myself doing this with my eyes closed. Then we run into a problem. You all know the next step in changing a diaper. How would a blind person manage this? How would he know when he that part of the job was complete?
OK, so after writing all of of that, I googled it and found some blogs, including one written by a blind person which details that it is indeed possible for them to change a diaper. Wow - shows what I know. I should never underestimate anyone!
Blessings to all.
Posted on July 17th, 2008 by CJs Daddy
Filed under: CJ, Food, Fun, Thoughts
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