Not an actual vineyard, but Martha’s Vineyard. We drive out there every summer, across the Bourne Bridge to Woods Hole where we board a ferry that takes 45 minutes to get us to The Rock. […]
Not an actual vineyard, but Martha’s Vineyard. We drive out there every summer, across the Bourne Bridge to Woods Hole where we board a ferry that takes 45 minutes to get us to The Rock. This year, the car had five humans and a canine … and two pack ’n plays, an umbrella stroller, dog crate, six duffel bags … you get the picture.
Bottom line was it all fit (barely) despite the larger, roomier Pathfinder as our go-to travel vehicle.
We left the house at a time we knew would promote car sleep: 11:30 in the morning. Austin had just eaten and was in line for his long nap of the day, Graham was ready for lunch and a nap, and Nolan was just ready for lunch. The two of the three we expected to sleep slept the entire two-and-a-half-hour drive. We had a plan and executed it perfectly. Well, they did.
Right on cue, Austin woke up as we pulled into the stand-by line (we got there more than an hour before our scheduled time) and Linds fed him in the car while I took Graham and the dog for a little stroll.
When we finally docked, the vacation had officially begun. The hardest part was over—the long stretch of travel where parents are at the mercy of their children’s patience. They passed with flying colors.
Seven days, seven nights, some breakdowns, some sleepy mornings, but all in all the trip was an overwhelming success. Except the time Linds and I snuck away (in broad daylight and after Austin’s 5 o’clock feeding) to Bad Martha Farmer’s Brewery, just a five-minute drive from my in-laws’ house. It is one of the few times we got out kid-free. Later we were back home and ready to give Austin a bottle and call it a night. But he had other ideas and proceeded to fight it for an hour or so, screaming until he was sweating. It wasn’t fun, especially since I was the one who gave him the bottle, but Linds came to the rescue after a while and calmed him to sleep.
The beach days were great, the days spent down in Oak Bluffs were fantastically fun (Nolan and Graham both got the brass ring on the same ride), and the boys did a good job behaving and adjusting to later naptimes, later bedtimes, and an increased ice cream intake.
We were planning on getting Austin into his crib when we got back. (We’re currently back, and he’s still in our bed. But only because we feel a wee bit guilty leaving him alone in his own room.) We’ll get the boys back on schedule, back to bed at “normal” times, back to eating less like heathens.
Austin continues to grow—he’s in 3-6 month outfits, something neither of the others actually fit into until around 6-9 months. His eyes remain blue, his hair still red like fire. He’s the happiest of the three, constantly smiling when he wakes up and even after he spits up. He’s a happy baby, and it’s crazy to think we’ve been with him for nearly three months. He smiles when we smile at him, coos when we speak to him, squeezes (and pinches) us when we hold him close.
Next step is getting him into that crib and reclaiming our bed for ourselves.