Benjamin Penguin

I’m exhausted. Give me a day to recover before the multitude of pics come splashing forward.

We finished the first leg of our journey home today. We covered about 400 miles and have about 600 more to go. I am ready to be home and thinking that we may just power through and complete the drive all day tomorrow. We’ll see.

Today, we took a detour to Bonaventure Cemetery on our way back north through Savannah. It is a beautiful old place and I think I took some nice pictures. I’ll know when I get back. I don’t even have the energy to download them.

Also, Ben had a spectacular meltdown in a Cracker Barrel. At one point he screamed so ear-piercingly loud, every head in the establishment whipped our way wearing a look of terror/concern. Not at all embarrassing. Nope, not at all.

And what does it say about Ben that his favorite meal this entire trip was the beans and rice he ate today (purchased from a gas station Taco Bell in Georgia, no less)? He could not have been more delighted with his three dollar meal. And what does it say about me that the glee with which he ate (and the lack of toddler sass) made this MY favorite meal? It seriously gave SeaJay’s a run for its money.

I should be in bed because apparently we have an early start tomorrow, but I drank an insane amount of iced tea and I am practically climbing the walls. This morning, I made sure to take a quick walk along the beach before we left and I was delighted to spot all these tiny little crabs scurrying along the steps leading down to the sand. A gal could get used to a place like that.

Phew.

When was the last time I even sat in front of a computer? I think it was a few days ago at the very least. Tomorrow, we start to make our trek back to reality and so it seemed necessary to force myself to step away from the pecan pralines and do a recap of our past few days in Georgia.

After spending the day in Charleston, we drove south to Savannah to spend a few days sweating to death in our own clothes. I was hoodwinked by the Carolinas because I foolishly believed that South Carolina represented the Deep South hot. But South Carolina is a kitten in the face of the lion that is Georgia summer heat. We got to Savannah late at night – around 9pm – and it was warm and muggy, but doable. I breathed a momentary sigh of relief until I realized that it was in the high 80s at 9pm at night. Then I shuddered a bit.

The next morning I awoke and hoped for the best. Without fail, I always woke about two hours before Adam and Ben and I always woke in time for the continental breakfast. Now, I don’t know if this is something that one can find in hotels across the US, but in the south at least, the hotels all have waffle makers and prepared batter so that one can have yummy Belgian waffles for breakfast. I’ve eaten more waffles in the past two weeks than I have in the past two years. So, from the cool confines of the breakfast room, the day didn’t look so bad. However, when you have a son and a husband that don’t rouse until about 11:00am and then have to dance around for an hour before they are ready to leave, your day starts at noon. Let me rephrase. My day of sightseeing begins UNDER THE SEARING HEAT OF A HIGH NOON SUN. This means that, without exception, if I wanted to take advantage of the sights, sounds and smells of my vacation, I had to traipse around during the hottest part of the day and silently (sometimes not so silently) curse the sun. Now, believe it or not, in Tennessee and the Carolinas, this was not so bad an arrangement. It was definitely warm but I was still willing to be out and about snapping pictures and enjoying the experience. And then Georgia happened.

Savannah is a lovely place. It really is beautiful. I love, love, loved the squares and the little shops and all the amazingly ornate wrought iron and, oh, the homes. My plan was to take a zillion pictures and loll about in the squares and meander through a few shops. For the first hour or so, this is exactly what we did, but by hour two, I was so hot and irritable that I was ready to head back to the hotel. We did manage to snap some good shots and we found a really nice smoothie place that Ben seemed to really enjoy, but for me, the day was considerably less pleasurable because of the heat. The nice thing about Savannah is that there are many little shops to duck into to escape the heat. The bad thing is that we are on a very tight budget and you can’t spend a penny in them. And then there is the issue of the little sir, as he can be prone to running and flailing. But overall, he is a very good little browser/shopper and we managed to spend about 5 hours in Savannah before I could take no more and had to call it a day.

The next day, we returned to Savannah for lunch and with the intent of taking more pictures and doing more sightseeing. However, it was even more hot the second day and my patience for the heat was wearing thin. We ate lunch at a cute diner that was converted into a restaurant from an old rail car, so that was fun for Benjamin. I ordered a southern vegetable plate sampler, thinking there would be something on there that he would enjoy, but he ended up eating a huge bowl of shredded cheddar cheese that the server was gracious enough to bring us when it was clear that he was going to eat nothing else. After lunch, we decided that the best way to see Savannah would be via the guided tour trolley and that’s exactly what we did. It was really nice – it was about 90 minutes long and we saw everything Savannah had to offer from the comfort of the shaded, breezy trolley. We were worried that Benjamin was going to fuss and we would have to get off the trolley early, but he fell asleep about 10 minutes into the trip and we were able to enjoy the rest of the tour while he rested.

After the trolley ride, we debated walking around a bit, but as it was about 46 million degrees out, we opted to leave early and drive to our next – and final – location. Again, my spotty logic led me to believe that the next spot would be cooler because we were going to be on the ocean. In actuality, I was just going to sweat to death with a beautiful view of the water. We are wrapping up our stay here at Jekyll Island. The place really is gorgeous. Beautiful beaches and scenery and in cooler weather, this place would be divine. The whole island is ringed by bike trails and there are tons of parks and nature preserves. It’s a small island and fairly quiet and desolate. Much of the island is undeveloped so the beaches are nesting grounds for loggerhead turtles and the dolphins come really close to the shore. It’s amazing. This morning we all headed over to the beach and I could not believe my eyes when dolphin after dolphin swam by. I confess that I got a little teary-eyed because it was just such a stunning sight. We also ate (twice) at this really awesome place called SeaJay’s Restaurant. It was right on the water and it was so laid-back and enjoyable that I think I’ll actually miss the place.

The hotel we are in now is typical beachfront dumpy, but that is not without its charm and I’ve enjoyed it here. There is a very friendly orange tabby cat that lives with the hotel manager and he is often found wandering the hotel meowing and looking for attention. It’s sweet and lends an air of homeyness to the place. Had the weather been cooler, this would have likely been one of my favorite parts of our vacation, but as it was, I could not get over the heat. We were able to escape the temperatures somewhat by visiting the Georgia Sea Turtle Center and by hanging out in the hotel room during the hottest parts of the day, but much of the natural beauty of the island was lost on us this trip. I’d really like to come back some January when the temperature would be more forgiving because I think I would love it then.

Tomorrow, we are waking up early to begin our journey back home. Since this is likely the last big vacation we are all going to be taking for quite a while, we’ve been trying to savor it as much as possible. I think, overall, we’ve all had a great time, despite the disruptions to Ben’s schedule and the inevitable neck and back pain that accompanies any road trip. We’ll be coming back to a lot of changes in Illinois. I’ll start school soon – as will Adam. We just learned that he was accepted into his program. I’ll go back to work. We’ll be moving to a new apartment in a new town at the end of September. It’s been really nice to have all this time together to connect before we all get so busy again.

I’ll update more later, but after a day in which all of us were in testy spirits, we all seem to be in a pretty good mood today. It was 7 million degrees both of the days we were in Savannah and I was THISCLOSE to packing it up and going home.

I have to get Ben’s breakfast ready, so the Savannah details will have to wait. As will the details of where we are at now. Except that I will say we’re on Jekyll Island and it seems lovely thus far.

Yesterday, as we were walking through Charleston, we saw what looked to be a lovely wedding congregation emerging in celebration from a church. I was wearing a cotton dress and sandals, but I was sweating so profusely and my face was so red that I actually looked terrifyingly savage. Adam has photographic evidence. My hair is all over the place and I am the color of a lobster. It’s becoming. But these women coming from the church? Some of them were wearing crepe and crinoline and then there was the bride and her maids in the heavy dresses, fer chrissakes. And all of them looked flawless. What. The. Hell?! My outfit had to have been way less temperature-rising than their collective mass of dresses.

Why did I look like such holy hell? Do you get used to the heat over time in such a way that you look great in it no matter what, or would someone like me always turn bright red and look dreadful?

Since we are ones to never keep our word, we did, in fact, make a stop on Charleston. I highly recommend it. For me, it was reminiscent of a cleaner, less sleazy-seeming French Quarter in New Orleans. Now, I am not insulting sleaze. Far from it. I think that gives New Orleans a charm of it’s own. But for some reason if just felt as though Charleston should have a pleasant, gracious and decidedly non-seedy air about it.

One of the amazing things about the South are all these quirky or interesting eateries that really draw the eye in and practically beg me to sit down for a nosh. As of yet, we’ve tended to be looking for food when all of us are hungry and tired, two essential ingredients for a toddler meltdown. So we have steered clear of these types of establishments – tempting as they are – and stuck with the louder, more family-friendly, touristy type places. For example, yesterday we stopped at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company for dinner. It was the perfect spot for Ben. Lots of eye candy, very loud, something always going on and a general sense of chaos that masked the random toy truck being flung across the room. I know, I know.  As we were driving into Charleston, I saw a Red Lobster and I remarked, “Who would chose Red Lobster when you have non-chain, totally awesome seafood places at your disposal.” Oh, apparently people like us.  And then, almost as though divined from above, the answer to a question that has been plaguing me for years finally popped into my head. Years back, I participated in an online forum full of admittedly opinionated people. One couple, on their visit to New York City, opted for the Olive Garden instead of going to some local, non-chain restaurant. The acrimony this caused on this forum. The question posed, quite viciously and rudely to this couple, was how they could justify their decision knowing that there were millions of amazing places a few miles away. Internet flame wars ensued, nonsense erupted and feelings were hurt. I didn’t engage in that hot mess of a conversation at all, but I did wonder the same thing. Then, yesterday, as I was wandering around looking at all the options in Charleston, my eyes settled on Bubba Gump and without conversation, I stopped there. Now, let me preface this by saying that in New Orleans, a few years back, I had a similar thought. Why this Bubba Gump when you can get the real thing? Turns out, sometimes it’s not the food that’s important at all, but whatever else that place offers you at the moment. Perhaps, like the couple visiting NYC, you just want something familiar because the city is so big and the choices so overwhelming that on that day, it’s more comfortable to go with what you know. Perhaps, like us, you know that the flash and the silliness will hide the tempestuous outbursts from a 19-month-old little boy. Perhaps you loved the Forrest Gump movie and think it would be a novel treat. Perhaps it was the closest thing and you’re tired of walking already, ok? Regardless of the reason, there is something genuine and real behind the decisions most of us make.

I have some rather hipster friends in my arsenal of acquaintances. People that would, under no conditions,  set foot in a  place like where we ate lunch yesterday. I’ll mention that we went to such a place and I, too, may have to listen to some exasperated cries of “You did what?” A few years ago, I may have had the same internal response. But, as seems to be evidenced every time I wake to a new day in the morning, motherhood is changing me. I went to Bubba’s shrimp shack not because it was my first choice in an ideal world, but because it was best for my son. my fellow patrons and our own sanity. It had nothing to do with the food. As I get more and more used to this motherhood gig, I see how much more I am aware of the world now and our place in it. I used to be more unintentionally rude in public. Louder voice, swearing, carrying-on. The stuff of your 20s. Now, however, I am acutely aware of my space, Ben’s space and our intrusion into other people’s space. My concern about Ben’s loudness and dramatics has influenced my own behavior in public and this, combined with maturity and aging, has made me a more polite, less rambunctious public presence. Yes, toddlers will be toddlers. Screaming, shouting and fussing in public are par for the course. But I also think we owe it to others, to the best of our ability, to create a public space that is enjoyable for all. I think this is one of the things I like about the South. People are just pleasant. No one seems to go out of their way to be nasty or rude or snarky. It’s a refreshing change, and one that is really keeping me on my toes. I could get used to a place like this. I like pleasant. I like pleasantries. I like a smile and a wave hello. It’s nice to be able to say something to someone and not have them gawk at you, wondering why you even opened your mouth in the first place. That wide-eyed, furrowed-brow look you get when you strike up a conversation with a stranger back home. Back home, I don’t randomly go up to people and talk to them. But here? Well, here, I’ve been doing it all the time and it’s been really nice.

Oh man. Anywaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays…

Today we are checking out Savannah. Again, this assumes that Ben and Adam will be up soon. It’s going on 10am EST and there is no sign of that.

So, yesterday was pretty amazing. The Carolina cypress forests and the swamps? Pretty awesome, awesome places. Words won’t do it justice, so when I get some spare moments at the tail end of this trip, I will post the pictures. It was really something I have never seen before. So very different from the North, which made it exciting and interesting. There were, however, spiders the size of our palms hanging in webs over our heads at every turn. I tucked our pants into our socks because, in the muted hysteria of the moment, I had to do something. So, our ankles were protected – poorly – leaving our precious necks, heads and every other body part freely available to the whims of a pissed-off spider.

But this is not why today is a Question Mark kinda day. No, I reserve that for a little issue I like to call “Ben’s Troubling Sleep Pattern.” While we were all taking in the gardens and the swamps, Ben was an active little boy. Not in the swamps, mind you. Then he was strapped in to his stroller. But everywhere he could run, he did. It was great. And then this little thing I refer to as the inadequate 20-minute nap threatened to take over the rest of the day and night. This terrifying little event has been known to wreck havoc on the most routine and ordered days, so you can imagine what it might do during a period of vacationing. Sure enough, the lack of a decent nap made Ben very crabby at around 7pm. Perfect time for bed, yes? Except that Ben fights any bedtime before 9pm. So, we tried to ride out the rage as best as we could. We went to Chick-Fil-A (!!), a southern fast food institution. The milkshake? Yum. But Ben was having no part of the Chick-Fil-A experience and we left shortly after getting our food.

Ben, en route back to the hotel from the Wal-Mart where Adam bought a much-needed belt, fell asleep in the car at around 8pm. Now, this can go one of two ways. Either Ben will stay asleep for the rest of the night or he will treat it like a nap, sleep for about 2 hours and then be awake forever. I’ll let you guess which one happened. Ben awoke at about 10pm and would not go back to sleep again. At one point, say about 1:30 in the morning, when it was clear that Ben was very tired but was resisting the allure of slumber AND loudly screaming his displeasure at our futile attempts, I made the (Ma and other nervous worrywarts, avert your eyes here) decision to drive the child around all over South Carolina until he fell asleep. Thankfully, I was only out driving for about 30 minutes before he fell into a very deep sleep. I brought him back upstairs, laid in bed with him and we all passed out until this morning.

I am now hopped up on about 12 cups of coffee, but I am awake, which is good. Ben just woke up now (it’s about 11am EST) and seems to be in good spirits. We’re going to have to revise our plans for the upcoming days a bit. Today was supposed to be Charleston, followed by Savannah, GA and then a few days on the beach. However, we may just do a few days in Savannah and be done with the vacation. Traveling with a toddler is fun in some ways, but certainly not easy, and he is a pretty easygoing little guy. I’m loathe to say that we’ll play it by ear because I hate planning vacations while I am actually ON vacation, so time will tell on this one. I’m content with the idea of coming home and I’m content with the idea of staying. Both options have big pluses.

So, I think we’ll be in Savannah today and bypass Charleston. Particularly if we leave for home in a few days. If we stay a bit longer? Who knows where we’ll be today. Whichever way the wind blows us.

Oh, hey. The South is hot. No, really.

If all goes according to plan (read: if Adam AND Ben wake up before noon), we are going to check out the Magnolia Plantation and possibly a swamp of some sort and another fancy garden at Middleton Place. If, however, I succumb to heat exhaustion by 12:14pm, we are going to check out the Dairy Queen down the road.

Yesterday and the day before were the days of spotty internet service, so there were no updates to be given since we spent half of the time trying to prevent ourselves from throwing the laptop out the hotel window.

So, a recap!

We made it out of the Louisville area on Tuesday morning (Day 2) without floating away or having our things be carried off by the rising floodwaters, so that was good. The expressway that we traveled was wet but was not flooded, as was rumored, so we actually made it out of the area pretty quickly. I think everyone else was afraid to travel, but we were more afraid of staying put in a small hotel room with an antsy toddler.

Our plan had been to drive all the way through to Asheville, North Carolina that day, but I thought it would be a shame to not take a little rest in the Smokies, so we opted to take the side roads around Sevierville and decided to spend the night in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Our habit, thus far, has been to pull into the parking lot of a major hotel chain and crib the wifi to make reservations to the hotel at Hotels. com since you can get a much better deal through that site. When parked at the Best Western in Gatlinburg, we made our reservation and then Adam walked in the office to check-in. The counter man remarked on the speed with which we checked in following the receipt of the reservation, but rather than fess up to our scheme, Adam just acted like it was a magical, magical miracle.

Gatlinburg was an interesting place. We popped Ben in the stroller to find some green space for him to run around, but were disheartened to find that there was very little of that to be had. It was odd, I thought, being so close to the parks and the mountain and all, but the little town was actually quite the tourist trap. We were unable to find one playground, but we were always a mere three steps away from a Ripley’s Something Or Other or another $20 attraction. It was, in some ways, a bit off-putting because it detracted from the beauty of the natural landscape. In years past, I probably would have been amused by the plethora of gaudy silliness, but ever since our Scotland trip three years ago (almost 3 years to the day), I have reveled in the gorgeous simplicity of green hills and trees and find the more flashy, showy tourist attractions pale in comparison. This is not to say that there is not a time nor a place for these things. I think it will be fun to bring Ben to places like this when this is the purpose of our trip. But it was a little unsettling to see all of that nestled at the base of the foothills because – and you can call me a neo-Luddite  here- I think the draw should be the truly amazing mountain and the park and not Christmastree Town or some other such thing.

But I digress. We walked around Gatlinburg that evening and then ordered in some of the best (shockingly best) paella I have ever ate. We were all in agreement because we all tore into the food like we hadn’t eaten in 20 years. There were but a few scraps of rice left by the time we were all done. Then we all watched as Ben ran around the hotel room in circles for about 3 hours before passing out at about midnight.

On Wednesday morning, we ate some yummy pancakes in a restaurant situated next to a faux waterfall. We then made our way over to the Great Smoky Mountains Park. It is really a gorgeous place. Though we only got about an hour or so into our adventure before a torrential mountain rain pushed us out of the park and back into our car. Thinking that it was about time to make our way to the Carolinas, we picked up the atlas and plotted the rest of our journey. There are two ways to get to North Carolina from Tennessee. The first is by taking the expressway. The second is by crossing a path over the mountain. Naturally, Adam wanted to take the expressway and I wanted to take the mountain. I won, and I think we are all thankful that I did. Well, Ben passed out. But Adam was thankful. The sight is breathtaking, even when the mountains are shrouded in thick clouds. And I’d like to think that the rain and the reduced visibility added a touch of nervous intrigue to the climb up, and then down, the mountain.

Though I had been staring at the atlas for well over two hours, and even though I must have read the name of the town Cherokee a dozen times, it did not dawn on me that we would be driving through the Cherokee Reservation until we came around a bend and an Indian in full tribal dress waved at us. Adam was so excited he practically drove off the road. We were just going to pass through, but I took note of the number of “Indian-Owned, Indian Craft” shops dotting the side of the road and I got it in my head to get Benjamin a pair of moccasins. We debated the merits of several different styles but ended up going with the hard-soled moccasin with beads on the front. He wore them willingly and got a few complements throughout the day for his stylish footwear. Following this, we all ate at Big Boy and Adam and I experienced a modest bout of stomach woe following this ill-fated decision.

After the excitement of the moccasin-buying and the forgettable (at the time, though certainly not later) lunch, we made our way over to Asheville, North Carolina. We got lost finding the hotel, but when we settled in, we were quite pleased with the comfy room. Have you ever slept in a king size bed? I mean, it was heavenly. I didn’t get kicked in the gut once that night. We all had room to spread out, and then some. This thing was the size of our kitchen back home. Oh, that I were kidding.

We debated staying in, debated walking to a restaurant near the hotel and debated just going to the grocery store across the street for some nibbles, but in the end we drove into downtown Asheville. It is a lovely little town. Very hilly, which is a special experience when pushing a stroller to and fro. There was a very adorable cafe called “Tupelo Honey” and in that instant I suddenly understood the name of Van Morrison’s album. It was a small, but delightful, connection to make and I immediately liked the little cafe even though I never set foot in the door. I took note of an adorable little cupcake shop (closed, sadly) and after much wandering, we settled on some ice cream from Kilwin’s. The same Kilwin’s we always visit in Michigan on our vacations there. It felt like a little bit of home tucked into Appalachia.

There were a number of really cute restaurants and bars, but as it was late at night, we agreed that most people out noshing and drinking would not appreciate the likely tantrums of a bored and hungry toddler. So we headed back towards the hotel and got food from the grocery store after all. I got surprisingly good vegetable sushi and Adam shared veggie lasagna with Ben. Then Ben ran in circles around the hotel room for three hours and fell asleep around midnight.

And that leads us to today. Most of today was spent in a car traveling to South Carolina. I don’t know that anything all that memorable occured today while en route. I saw a deer. But that reminds me that we saw a baby moose-like animal at the Great Smoky Park. That was pretty cool.

So we are now chilling in Summerville, South Carolina. It was pretty late (and pretty dark) when we got here, so I’ll report on this place more in the upcoming days. While we’re here, we hope to check out some plantations, some gorgeous gardens and cypress forests and the town of Charleston. Though I should not that our city guide book states that the gardens I want to visit have a “gator count” of over 500 gators. I plan to be well-armed with cuts of sacrificial beef and witty pleas for mercy.

Should be fun!

I am pretty sure I hear hail hitting our hotel room door. Awesome, awesome start to day two.

I hate storms. I have hated them since I was a child. Right now, I am attempting to suppress the sheer terror I am feeling and my desire to run to the nearest homestead to hide in the basement of a stranger. But if a tornado siren starts wailing? All bets are off and my next report will be from the uneasy comfort of a stranger’s underground lair.

Benjamin and Adam? Oh, totally sleeping through the eardrum-shattering thunder. I think I am going to go and hit up the continental breakfast to make me feel better. If I get swept away in a cyclone, I really want a belly full of commercially prepared blueberry muffins and OJ.

Oh, and I forgot to mention this, but Ben’s stay in a hotel last night marked his first hotel visit. Adam was running around after him, sanitizing him every two feet, shrieking about “the germs, the GERMS!” He finally went to bed at, like, 1:40am. Yes, really.