Coming Home

All dressed up and ready for the trip home.

Safety first! Thanks for the awesome car sear, WR aunties.

We had our first white knuckle adventure - the drive home from the hospital!

Our driver, Alex, took the wheel, 10 and 2, and I manned the backseat, next to our sleeping beauty. My job was to buckle up, hold on tight to the top of Francie's car seat (you know, because I'm stronger than the crash-tested engineered device), and to quietly whisper commands into Alex's ear. Backseat driver in the truest fashion.

"Okay, that's good, why don't we just pull over for a second so you can take a break. I think the parking lot was a good warmup."

"We are coming up to a stop light, do you see that it's red?"

"Okay, on the freeway, I think the right lane is the safest so you don't have to worry about your

speed."

"Watch out! There's a semi truck up ahead!"

"We are about to merge. I see a car that could speed up into your blind spot. Do you see that silver car?"

"You're doing a great job."

"Please do NOT drink your coffee while we are in motion!"

"You looked at that man too long. You always do that, it's like you linger a second too long and in that time someone could pull in front of us and we would crash."

"Don't touch the radio. It's best if the ride is silent so we can concentrate on the road."

You get the picture ...

And then we made it home. I reconnected with my favorite spot on the couch (although it mysteriously smells like urine, and I'm concerned that Gizzy might have been upset with our sudden and slightly prolonged absence), and settled in with the babe on my chest. Needless to say, we aren't getting in a car again until she's 25. And no, she doesn't need to learn to drive. We have a great hand-me-down bicycle she can use to mobilize. And if she gets the urge to put her hands on the wheel, we can keep my Volvo until it doesn't run and she can sit up front and play pretend.

Home again home again, jiggity jig.