So how did coming home come about? Well I guess you could say it started in California.
We spent 4 lovely days in the same place, staying with a friend and her family in a very comfy home. Our kids played together, we still did some sight seeing, but in the evening we came back to a house with indoor plumbing and kitchen. It was nice. Very nice.
From there we traveled further down Cali and had a pretty good time. Griff and I came down with colds and it was pretty rough going. Oz didn't catch the cold, but he was teething and those canines were just starting to peak through (and at this moment are still taking their precious time coming through. Canine incisors, I shake my fist at you!).
Then we were working our way to Vegas. And when we got to Vegas we realized, "Hell, there is not a lot you can do with a baby in Vegas". We *knew* this going there, but then it was really sort of a let down when we got there.
(FYI there were a lot of things happening in all these places and I fully intend on expanding on each and every one of them.)
So in Vegas we broke down the last few things that we really, really wanted to see and decided that after Roswell, New Mexico we would just book it home and not tell anyone. We had originally wanted to be home for Thanksgiving anyways, so this was really just cutting the trip another week short. But funds were running low and so was our will to carry on. So done. We really enjoyed our last week and now we have a little money left over to get our hair cut. I'm done with feeling like a dirty hippie all of the time and eating camp food or road food.
It was a fucking awesome journey.
We got into Greenville at around 11 and scared both my Mom and Dad to death. There were a lot of screams, tears and laughter. I love doing stuff like that.
