My New Year’s resolution: I really mean it this time!
Last year, on New Year’s Eve, my family resolved to never travel at Christmas again. That lasted almost a year.
OK. Maybe I should be more specific. We drove 1700 miles one-way. Halfway there, we encountered icy roads and had to cancel a hotel reservation. Annoyed, we dealt with our online reservation system (who can withdraw funds immediately but take two weeks to refund them), and found a new place. Then, on the way back, the same thing happened again. But it was New Year’s Eve and we swore off holiday travel, knowing that flying would have been just as big a problem since the airports were canceling all their flights.
It was an easy resolution to keep since the holidays roll around only once a year. We almost made it all year without breaking the vow. But then Christmas came again. We justified the break by the fact that we were traveling west instead of east, and only 500 miles one way. And instead of being pregnant, we were dragging along an almost-nine month old baby.
That was the first mistake. A couple weeks prior, I tried to “train” her to sleep in other places by using a pack & play. Well, it was a nice sentiment, but she wasn’t buying it. So, for three nights, she barely slept at all, and I’m not exaggerating. Naps were a *little* better. I intended to catch up on a little shut-eye, but with family around that I don’t see often, I really just wanted to be with people. That was, after all, the reason we broke our old resolution. (And it didn’t help my ego that my husband’s cousin has a baby that is only 6 months old who sleeps 12 hours straight through every night! I know it’s an individual thing, but it still made me jealous.)
And then on the way home, we were going to caravan home with my in-laws who live in town with us. But my husband felt compelled to do some last-minute car maintenance, so they took off an hour ahead of us. Lucky for us, since they got turned around on the highway, 150 miles out of town… It wasn’t ice this time, but a rockslide caused by melted snow from the previous week’s winter storm. And in the mountains, there aren’t alternate routes. So they came back while we scoped out the options in town. The short story is that FOUR hours into the trip, we finally were able to leave town! And we still faced another 8 hours with a baby in the car.
All that to say, I REALLY mean it this time when I resolve never to travel again at Christmas. For that matter, maybe I’ll never travel again with a baby.