The store in Yellow Grass is actually called "The Store in Yellow Grass"

I just returned from a weekend in Estevan, Saskatchewan, celebrating my grandfather’s 95th birthday! The birthday itself was wonderful, such a joy for my grandparents to have so much family and friends around. It was great to see all of my cousins, who I see rarely, and many of whom now have families of their own, which is touching and beautiful.

It was the first time ever that we stayed in a hotel with the boys, and despite the fact that our hotel was mostly inhabited by rig workers – several of whom witnessed me, disheveled, braless, and in my pajamas getting coffee from the lobby and then looked away quickly and silently – it was really fun. Fun until the trip home today.

We were delayed in the Regina airport for three hours, which is a very long time to be stuck in the Regina airport. A very long time. Since we had already driven two hours to get to the airport, the day started to feel long indeed. Jake began to morph into some kind of enraged little demon, ranting sporadically about not liking ANYTHING AT ALL, and Mark started to unravel. “How many minutes until the plane is here? How many minutes until we are on the plane? How many minutes until we will be at home? Okay, I’m ready to go. When are we getting on the plane?” I started fantasizing about drinking heavily.

Perspective, Nicole. Really, traveling with kids is not that bad these days, is it? I mean, when I was a kid we used to drive ten solid hours from Calgary to Estevan and back several times a year, which was inevitably hell, what with me in the backseat of a sedan with two brothers and a dog (“Stop touching me! He’s looking at me!”), my mother who would either be smoking heavily or in nicotine withdrawal, and my father driving, grim-faced and fanatical looking (“We are going to get x miles to the gallon.”). The highlight of the trip would be eating Life Savers. Looking out any window, the vista was field after endless field, punctuated by pumpjacks and small towns with names like Yellow Grass and Drinkwater. Compared with those memories, I think my kids have it pretty good.

Now, how many minutes until bedtime?