I’m starting to wonder if we should just stay put and never travel again. My fear is that each trip might actually be more epic than the one before until we eventually take a trip that becomes so epic we never return.

We went to Nebraska on a day trip for my husband’s cousin’s wedding, three hours away. For two grown adults, it shouldn’t have been big deal. Long day, but not a big deal. Apparently a three-year-old and a six-month-old can’t handle what we can.

The wedding was outdoors at a military base and for the reception, the guests were to travel a few miles away to the community center off base. My husband’s brother jumped in the front seat and typed in the reception venue to the GPS on the phone while I crawled in back with the munchkins and away we went. We came to a T intersection…with a cemetery in front of us. Jan the GPS insisted the way to the wedding reception was through the cemetery. In a very Michael Scott fashion, we forged on across the intersection and into the cemetery since “THE MACHINE KNOOOWWWS!”

The road curved around and up the hillside of tombstones. It was peaceful, but alas, not where our cousins were intending on celebrating the joining together of their two lives…amid lives that had ended, ahem.

Finally Jan the GPS just quit. Left us hanging in the middle of this cemetery. We kept driving to take the loop around to the front and we saw deer! A buck, a doe, and two baby deer. So what do you do when you’re lost in a cemetery and there are deer within a stone’s throw of you? You take a selfie. A respectful selfie.

We made it to the reception but it was already after 7:00 p.m., the kids were falling apart at the seams, and we knew we still needed to make the three hour trek back home, so we decided to leave.

Our baby…cried. The.whole.drive. Unless of course I was nursing her. Before you pick up your phone and hotline me, let me tell you about the lesser-known nursing position I used. I call it the Reach and Leech. It’s great, really. It allows you to keep your infant safely secured in her car seat while you assume the risk to your own life by unbelting if you cannot get the right angle whilst being buckled. I simply pull out enough slack on the buckle so I can put my feet on the seat underneath me and then I reach over the infant carrier so my “leech” can conveniently…well, you know.

Part way through our journey home we pulled over at a gas station. Our poor baby was crying so hard and burning up despite wearing a light linen, spaghetti strapped dress in an air conditioned car. I got the Tylenol out of the trunk and my husband held her facing outward so we could get a dose in her to reduce the fever. No sooner had a bit of grape medicine passed her lips she projectile vomited. My apologies, gas station parking lot…my apologies. My brother-in-law and I laid out her changing pad on the pavement of the parking lot and started wiping her down and changing her clothes. We were still over an hour away from home. He picked her up and we made one more attempt at getting the dose of Tylenol into her. Again with the projectile vomit. This time my brother-in-law tipped her forward so at least there was minimal damage to her outfit. For a 15-year-old, I think he’ll be pretty well prepared for marriage and babies after having had me in the family for the past 8 years. I don’t hold back.

She continued to scream once we started driving again, so I implemented the Reach and Leech. For over an hour. Who needs feeling in their feet? Or side? Or nipples, for that matter? Who needs to be able to see forward out of the windshield when you can watch the landscape of northern Missouri fly past you out the side window while your forehead is pressed up against it?

If you catch wind of me planning another road trip anytime soon, remind me to read my own words. #serenitynow