Travel and Time and Tiredness

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Man, it’s been two weeks since I’ve updated the blog.  Two weeks of planes, trollies, other people’s cars, and a ferry somewhere mixed in.  Two weeks of family, friends, and tourists.  Two weeks of bathrooms and beds that aren’t my own.

I’m tired.

My wife and I buy fully into the benefits of getting out of our comforts.  We want our daughter and any other future products of our loins to see different places and people.  After all, how can we know if we are the weird ones or not if we don’t explore other parts of the country and world, right?

But dang it. I’m tired.

Airports are the second manifestation of hell on Earth.  The first being Costco. I found myself commiserating with five or six other passengers in the New Orleans airport when the already glacier-paced restaurant didn’t have the biscuits we ordered. Then we waited 15 minutes.  Then the biscuits that were cooking weren’t fully cooked.  We had to wait eight minutes more.  They only cost 99 cents, but dang…I’d been in the airport for three hours since we had to leave our Air BnB by 3, and we had a pick-up truck bed full of luggage thanks to our tiny human and her bevy of needs. Our departure time, which was supposed to be at 5:35 when we booked it, had mysteriously moved to 6:15 the night before.  Then it was further delayed until 6:47.  At 6:50, the gate worker said they had no timetable for when we’d board. Thankfully, they let us board at 7.  We would sit on the runway for another 30 minutes when we landed four hours later. We drove home another hour and a half, walking into my in-laws with 10 minutes to spare before the new year.

So I’m tired.

I went out to Bourbon street two nights with my brother, a New Orleans virgin (and he still is a New Orleans virgin if that means he didn’t hook-up with someone in New Orleans.  If we mean never visiting the city, he has since sullied himself–forever losing his innocence).

So while I didn’t over indulge, I’m still tired.

But exhaustion, and the tacit frustrations of travel, were worth it.  My 20 m.o. daughter, who lives 1000+ miles from her Nana and Papa in Cincinnati, got to spend quality time with my family.  She got to go to the zoo, experience her first snow, and learn how to give fist bumps from cool Uncle ‘Teebee’ (Stephen). She got to ride on a trolly and a boat.  She played at the Children’s Museum twice.  She heard the sweet sound of jazz and nibbled on the unsugared section of a beignet from Cafe DuMonde. She played with her friends Piper, Luke, and Avery. And she ate new food, ranging from Nana’s Midwestern cooking to jambalaya and seafood gumbo (a very big range of spices).

She’s tired (and constipated).

But she slept 12 hours last night.  As did my wife and I.  She pointed out her Nana and Papa and aunt and uncles on a picture.  She played with some of her new gifts and read some of her new books. And hopefully she pooped a whole lot at daycare.

And whether we will ever truly see the fruits of this travel experience, my wife and I got to experience a new corner of the world with her. We taught her new words. And she saw that we can call ‘home’ anywhere we rest our heads if we open ourselves to the people and places we encounter.

I’m tired, but incredibly blessed.  Here’s to a New Year and a new adventure. Even if that adventure must wait for days, months, or years of routine first.