“Daddy, wanna see me twirl?”

“Sorry…can’t right now…I’m guiding your 45 foot, 17,500 lb home down the highway, sweetie.”

Maria, by the way, is starting to feel like home.  Sure it’s tight in here, but we all have our own space.  I’m learning the nighttime ‘crawl-over-tara-to-pee’ maneuver, and the kids know the proper dance when more than one person is in the ‘hallway.’

Rhythm is still a work in progress.  We still have all of the chores of a regular house life—laundry, cooking, exercising, fixing whatever broke today, dishes, etc.  Add to that camp setup/teardown and the actual time on the road.  Too long on the road and the kids go crazy.  Too many days in one spot and we go crazy.  Today is one of those work days.  We have no idea where we’re going to be tonight—might be an RV park between here and Calgary or it might be the parking lot I’m working in right now.

After a couple days of white-knuckling it I’m starting to not have to think about driving quite so much.  We’re starting to sleep a little better at night.  Things are normalizing in the strangest of ways.  Grant asked a couple of days ago if we were going home soon.  That hurt a little bit—but I think that might have just been Grant being Grant.

Yesterday at Glacier National Park the kids were climbing rocks in one of the most surreal settings I’ve ever seen.  I kept telling Thatcher to ‘be careful.’  She responded with, “adults need to have more fun.” 

I think she’s right.   Cheers!