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The Problem With Taking Kids on Vacation

Screw you, Chevy Chase, for making it seem cool to drive your kids on a cross-country road trip on summer vacation. Sure, your trip wasn't by any means ideal and you ran into many obstacles on your journey, but at least you got to jump into a pool with a very naked Christie Brinkley.
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Screw you, Chevy Chase, for making it seem cool to drive your kids on a cross-country road trip on summer vacation. Sure, your trip wasn't by any means ideal and you ran into many obstacles on your journey, but at least you got to jump into a pool with a very naked Christie Brinkley, one of the hottest supermodels of the '80s. I wasn't so lucky.

This was our first time traveling with all three kids on a family vacation. We haven't taken a vacation, a real vacation, in a few years. We've taken weekend trips to the mountains, but we never had to endure an actual road trip before. So just like any other time we travel, I had every detail of the trip totally mapped out way before hand. The only thing during my planning that I didn't account for, or factor into the equation, was the annoying and extremely frustrating 'kid' factor of the voyage.

One of the biggest annoyances of any trip, including short trips to the grocery store sometimes, is that my kids get really, really car sick. Now, I know my two older kids get car sick (they unfortunately inherited that from me) and as anyone who gets carsick knows, it is absolutely the worse feeling in the world. Usually we just give the kids Dramamine, but on trips in the past we have found that it totally knocks them out for about two hours and when they wake up, they are extremely grumpy, miserable and hungover. So, after a bit of research we bought some seabands that are basically bracelets that you wear around your wrists that put pressure on the pressure points that somehow, they claim, keep you from getting motion sick. I was a bit skeptical at first, but surprisingly, they seem to work. Also to try and keep things running smooth I got up at 4 a.m. put them in the car at 4:45 a.m. and hit the road. This gave me about three hours of all of them, wife included, sleeping so I could drive in the quiet and hopefully, by the time that they all woke up, we'd be at least three hours into the trip.


After the wife and kids finally woke up, we stopped briefly to pick up breakfast and to stretch our legs. I had no idea at the time, but a perfect storm was brewing and that this would be the beginning of a very long trip.

About 30 minutes after our rest stop, I heard this weird gurgling and coughing sound coming from the back seat and just as I turned my head, I saw this thick paste of curdled milk mixed with whatever food she had eaten streaming out of my 20-month-old daughter's mouth with such force that it spewed all the way onto the dashboard in front of me. But that wasn't the end of it -- what happened next was simply incredible. The same mixture of nastiness that was pouring out of her mouth started streaming out of both nostrils of her nose and was running down her face like a waterfall. This lasted about 60 seconds as I made an emergency stop on some country back road in south Georgia that looked like it came straight out of scene from the movie Deliverance. After a quick cleanup and change of clothes, we hit the road with the now ever-so-powerful aroma of baby puke flowing through out the car -- apparently our youngest child gets car sick as well.

The rest of the trip went something like this:

4:45 A.M - Started road trip to St. Augustine, Fl from North Atlanta, Ga.

8:00 A.M - Kids wake up. Rest stop for Breakfast.

8:30 A.M - Massive puke session #1.

9:00 A.M - Cries for a bathroom start ringing out.

9:30 A.M - "Are we almost there?" chants begin from the backseat.

10:00 - 10:15 A.M - The kids start arguing over what movie to watch.

10:30 A.M - "When can we stop for lunch?"

11:00 - 11:30 A.M - Puke session #2. Lunch stop.

11:32 A.M - I start smashing my head into the steering wheel as chants for a bathroom break breakout.

11:35 A.M - We stop for a bathroom break. Oddly enough, everyone had to go.

12:00 P.M - We reach Jacksonville, Fl.

We have one hour or so left to go. At this point, I want to duct tape the kids' mouths shut, stop and get a 40 oz. bottle of Ole English, open the sunroof of my minivan and finally, for once, play the music I want to listen to as loud as humanly possible without kids yelling at me to change the station...

But then, reality sets back in when a very familiar voice asks a very familiar question.

12:03 P.M - "Are we there yet?"

12:07 P.M - "Are we there yet?"

12:12 P.M - "Are we there yet?"

12:13 P.M - "I have to go potty."

I guess it was a bad idea to tell them that we were almost there?

12:15 P.M - We stop for gas and potty break.

12:25 P.M - Back on the road.

12:30 P.M - "Are we there yet?"

12:31 P.M - "Are we there yet?"

12:32 P.M - I threatened to turn the car around if they don't sit quietly the rest of the drive.

12:34 P.M - "Are we there yet?"


So finally, sometime around 1:30 P.M, we reach the beach condo. I quickly drop the wife and kids off and make a beeline trip to the nearest liquor store to grab a bottle of nerve medicine:


So in closing, Chevy Chase, if I ever get a chance to meet you, I will swiftly and without mercy kick you right in the f***ing balls, because traveling with kids on summer vacation totally sucks.

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