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COPYRIGHT 2002 Mothering Magazine
A couple of years ago I told another mom that I was about to drive from Minneapolis to Philadelphia with my three kids (ages four, five, and nine) and another friend's kid (age ten). I would be the only adult. The woman looked at me and said, "Oh my God! Be sure to rent one of those TVs with a VCR--it was the only way my husband and I could even think of driving cross country with our kids."
"Oh, we'll be alright," I said. "We don't need a TV."
What this woman didn't know is that the trip to Philadelphia would be my sixth cross-country drive with children, and my second long journey as the only adult. I have driven, with my husband and kids, to the West Coast and back three times and to the East Coast and back three times, and I've done at least six other trips to places like Michigan, South Dakota, and Montana. Last winter my friend Barb and I drove with my middle daughter (age six) 2,200 miles to Yellowknife, in the Northwest Territories of Canada.
I like driving with kids across the country. One of the greatest things about it is how long it takes. I'm serious. Yes, my children squabble in the car. When they were smaller they cried, even wailed, for miles at times. And it's true that we have been unable to find a campground to stay in at 9 p.m., when the baby was poopy and we'd been in the car for 11 hours straight. Just as every moment of your 25-hour labor is emblazoned into your head and body, I remember all the excruciating moments of travel. I remember when the car stunk like old bananas and we took the wrong turn and my legs felt numb from being...
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