The Reunion Day Two

I was tempted to give this Reunion reflection a subtitle: The Firstborn Has Not Stopped Talking Since Six AM.

Goodness do I miss silence. 

Day two of the big family reunion was all too brief and started so dang early. Both boys have internal clocks set to wake them up an hour before Mom and Dad would prefer.       

What had the kids so very wound up?  My suspicion was sleeping arrangement. A shared hotel room with their uncle was pretty wicked awesome for them. A crib for the baby and my wife and the firstborn in a bed, I crashed out on the floor. Hotel room floor beats a tent any day, so I’ll only complain about my spinal alignment. 

The previous nights festivities were still fresh in the mind of the oldest kiddo too. 

He got to play guitar and sing with his grandpa. The family gave him the ever popular gift of center stage and he loved it. He opted to sing just the “I don’t care” part of “I don’t care if I ever go back, ’cause it’s root root root for the home team”. It was adorably emo for someone so small. 

After dinner, he watched a room of musicians strum and sing and whatever the verb is for keyboard playing together. 

Guitars abound in the conference room of this hotel. 

The baby spent the night throwing balls around and screeching. He also wore little more than a diaper, so pictures will not be shared here. Imagine a really big chipmunk cheek smile every single second, and that was his mood for the night. Kid hates pants. 

So the baby woke up asking for another day sans pants. And kept asking for it. 

Two very excited little boys happy to be with family and at a place with a never ending breakfast made leaving exceptionally difficult. But all good things come to an end and we bid adieu to cousins and uncles, grandparents and relatives with really obscure titles and made our way north. 

Lessons learned from recent road trips include stop often to play or the kids become insufferable. With the firstborn already on auto-speak mode, we needed to pause and attempt to make him sleepy enough to nap on our way home. 


Soccer tag in a bank parking lot is not the answer to creating a little child that needs sleep. Neither of them tired from the outing. They did get exceptionally wet, but not tired.

There are no rest stops between Colorado Springs and Greeley. There’s no reason for them as outlet malls and grocery stores cover every square inch of the Foothills, but the missing rest stops were weird. On our way to Wyoming rest stops were everywhere. That made sense as towns and people were quite hard to find in some stretches. 

The other lesson learned was to always let my wife and her Master Tetris skills pack the car. 

Look at that! Such pretty lines and the back window can be seen through. I mucked it all up by adding guitars to the mix, but I was genuinely impressed. 

Her biggest moment of genius was finding a way to get the firstborn involved with the packing process. She made this visual packing list so he could see exactly what was to be packed for his travel bag.  

It’s existence allowed the firstborn to take control of how he helped in the process. He got to see what he could do to help, and thereby stopped trying to derail the process. This combines with liberal use of activity timers has had a tremendous impact on his mood. Organized kids are hapy kids! That’s a phrase I thought would never be said/written by me. 

And he will tell you about it all. Day. Long.


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