Taking an overnight road trip, Part 2

Heading into Wisconsin after crossing the Mississippi River:

Welcome to Wisconsin!

Daddy says "Take a pic of THIS! 'Ahhhhh'!"

On the road in southwestern Wisconsin:

We had to stop in Mineral Point, WI for a potty break. Here's the view of the Dairyland Motel as seen from the gas station:

We're finally at the hotel in Madison. Liv's having fun at the hotel's pool . . .

Warming up her feet in the hot tub. . .

Daddy got cold, so he's getting into the hot tub for a couple minutes:

More swimming in the pool . . .

For photos from Part 1, check out Taking an overnight road trip, Part 1. 

Just a few more photos to come . . .

. . . and the final photos can be found at Part 3, so click here: Taking an overnight road trip, Part 3.

Liv's a photographer!

For Christmas 2009, "Santa" got Livie a Fisher-Price kids' camera - waterproof, shockproof (meaning: sturdy in design, in case small hands drop it), and easy to use.

Here are some of her photos from the past few months.

She took a photo of Abuelita and Nonno at their house. This would've been around Christmastime.

She HAD to take a photo of Caesar.

We're driving somewhere. She took a photo of her view out the window from her car seat.

Here's Nonno at Marissa's baptism party (at a restaurant in Chicago).

Here's Abuelita's bird feeder, as seen from the den/library.

And here's the toilet and toilet paper from a hotel room. I think she and I were at Culver Academies' Horsemanship Weekend with Brenda and Aprilia. This would be our hotel room in Plymouth, IN.

Starlight Turf War

Traveling with a child can be a lot of fun. A lot of work, but worth it when you see that your kid is having fun at the pool, on various new adventures, at fun restaurants.

But if you're traveling with a 4-year-old and only have one bed, even if it IS a king bed, be prepared to NOT sleep very well.

While said 4-year-old is excited to get the whole middle part of the bed to herself, once asleep, that middle part no longer exists, and the entire bed becomes hers.

All night long, I am kicked like a soccer ball. At one point, I hear whining and whimpering only to find out that my pillow is no longer my own - somebody wants hers AND mine.

Later, it's on to the infamous "H" formation - Daddy and Mommy are parallel to each other, and 4-year-old is the middle, horizontal part.

All night long, it doesn't matter how I shift, how I toss and turn. Somebody is right there, right next to me, claiming as many inches of my bed space as her own.

So last night at 4 AM, in the midst of my restless night of sleep, all I could think of was that classic Leonard Bernstein turf war music: