After reading and commenting on "Ignitor's" blog, I thought people may think it's strange that I feel that SLC and "northern Utah" are a world apart. True, I can make the drive in 3.5 hours but I also have 3 kids, age 5 and under. To go to the grocery store is an event in itself. You have to construct this fortress of cart, kids, car seats and coats just to be mobile within the store. You have to hope one of them doesn't go shooting away and need to be hunted. You hope what you put in the cart, stays in the cart and you keep an eye on the contents of the cart to ensure that only authorized material is being purchased. And if ONE member of family has to use the bathroom, it sends ripples through the whole unit requiring "special arrangements" to be made. As a parent, the timer is always ticking or you are trying to manage your kids telepathically, evaluating the sounds outside with the greatest scrutiny. Once I don't have to worry about these things then I will think about making an "experience" of using the bathroom by adding a heated toilet seat.
And those are just the menial daily tasks. If you try to bump things up to a road trip then the furthest thing from your mind should be relaxation. Maybe I can buy myself some leniency on my blog's spelling, grammar and inability to run with a complete thought by pointing out that much if this is accomplished with a 7 month old betweeen myself and the computer. This hobby is another of my selfish indulgences. Like reading a book at 3am. It seems like a sort of identity theft. I'm allowed to be myself only in brief stolen moments when I can sneak away.
This is the lifestyle I'm getting used to for the next 5 years or so. I hope my friends and family understand. This is the reason why it's not tons of fun to hang out: if the kids feel like watching Spongebob for two hours then that's what we'll probably do. I don't like to make them take it upon themselves to make their own fun around my feet as I do what I want.
To jump to the next thought: I also think that we're too young to reminisce about 'the good old days.' We should think the best are still ahead, regardless of the unlikelihood. Here's to a future that isn't here or now.