Sorry, channeling my inner Peter, Paul and Mary...
It's never the most auspicious start to a family road trip of a thousand miles, when -- an hour from home -- the five year old yells, "Ewwww, [the two year old] has wet stuff coming out of her mouth!" Sniffing the air confirmed rather quickly what that "wet stuff" indeed was, but after stopping to clean up the child and her car seat, one more vomit episode, another stop to clean up again and to buy towels, Lysol and Febreze, things proceeded less eventfully for the rest of the trip with no more "wet stuff" spewing (although there were a few unexpected naps that moistened a few other carseats along the way, so the Lysol and Febreze saw a good bit of action until we could get home and really wash things).
But where, you might be wondering, did the Adams family go?
Recognize that? My war-like almost four year old ran up to some strangers on the battlefield and shot them with his finger-guns. This may be reason number 5,687 why I homeschool, some of my children would be expelled from public school before they even got started.
Another long bit of driving and we arrived at our actual destination, where we toured a nuclear sub, saw a Supreme Court case in action (we'll call in professional development for my husband) and visited this fort below. Steve-o, were he still around, would I'm pretty sure be able to figure out exactly where we'd been hanging out.
We were actually on our East Coast tour to acquire a beautiful God-daughter (picture shamelessly swiped from said Godchild's mother). And then we drove home a different way. Introduced the baby to some of his relatives in Ohio and finally arrived back in Tennessee, where I've been spending every available minute getting ready to begin the new school year and rearrange the school room to make it less of a constant disaster and more of a usable space.
School is upon us now and life is busy.