Monday, July 1, 2013

UnBroken Things


My little family isn't broken. It can't be. We have all the parts needed. We have love, memories, togetherness and belief that we are a good thing.

I’m under no illusion that you want to read about my little family trip to MA & PA... but it's something I feel strongly about.
 
This week was hilarious, eventful, relaxing, exhausting, and memorable.

We started with a 10 hour drive from RVA to Marlborough MA with a notebook and a conversation about “what we used to do on long car rides."

So we did it. We played the License Plate Game – we drove through VA, MD, DE, PA, NJ, NY, CT & MA. On that drive we “collected” 37 license plates. Every 5th state that was written down, the notebook passed to the next child. 

Curiously, there was no fighting between them over who’s turn it was or wasn’t to write.

We have smart phones, or dumb phones... so we had questions that needed answering... like, why is NJ called The Garden State? (< ~ they grow a lot of food in NJ) and why is MD called The Old Line State? (< ~ they held their lines in the Revolutionary War).

Other notes made were that Albany was settled by the Dutch in 1624.
The Statue of Liberty is 305 feet high. 

And there are 72 steps in front of the Art Museum in Philadelphia.

And we got that figured out via phone.

We renamed my navigation system voice to Navigation Nazi, instead of Navi Nancy. She was disastrous. She routed us through NYC, around random small roads through CT, and I was constantly turning her off and restarting her to get an accurate route. 

Arbitrarily she decided at some point to navigate us to Kilburn Circle Philadelphia PA, instead of Kilburn Circle, Henrico VA... which means we suddenly were told, “Do an immediate U-turn. Take 95 N”... pretty sure RVA, the capital of the Confederacy, is South of MD...

Another memory we laughed at. Another #bestdayever.

My little family slept on floors, in corners, piled on top of each other in beds, and loved every minute of it.

They Played Rock Star, and I’m proud to say my son G knows most of the words to Beastie Boys What’chu Want. They swam. They bowled candlepin. They watched Monster’s U. They ate blue icecream and salad greens. 

There was surprisingly very little fighting, despite our sleep deprivation, long hours and cramped quarters.

And one kid or another announced on every day of our trip that it was The #bestdayever.

I rode a borrowed MTB down Kelly Drive and through the city of Philadelphia. I sweated. I loved it. That city knows how to encourage active people. They have made it possible to get around via bike and foot.

And we did get around via our feet.

We walked 900 miles... ok, maybe not, around Philadelphia. 

We waited in lines, saw the liberty bell, took a horse drawn tour, and went to Independence Hall where the declaration of Independence was signed in August of 1776... er.... yeah, close enough to July 4th...
 
We climbed the “Rocky Steps” and then drove for another 100,000 miles to get home. <~ or 500, whichever sounds better.

and despite being in the car for hours, B'nut declared it was another...

#bestdayever.

Every day I spend with them... playing, driving, walking, sleeping, sharing silly stories for the sake of sharing silly stories... is a best day ever.

My little broken family is not really broken. Because we don’t subscribe to the idea that it’s broken. 

We are unbroken.

And unbroken things are whole.




2 comments:

Pam said...

In my experience, from the people I've known that come from "broken" families, it was actually more broken when it was "whole" than before it was "broken." There's much to be said for being HAPPY!!!!

Marnee A said...

I love your unbroken family and so glad you had a vacation that elicited the #bestdayever anthem each day!