We packed up the turkeys, charged the portable DVD player and made the long and ugly drive to Newport Beach last week.
Lola ate nearly an entire can of raw "diamonds" [english translation: almonds] in the first hour and a half.
We made a quick stop in St. George to spend a night with Reece's grandparents, and the kids reveled in their new-found freedom from the car by rolling around on the grass and (in Lola's case) hugging a lamp post.
I had to snap a quick photo of the world's largest thermometer in Baker, because my children's children will stand in awe that their parents witnessed such a marvel.
I have to give props to my babies -- who, all things considered, were amazing travel buddies.
Things got a little hairy when a chicken nugget was ripped from the hand of a certain toddler by a certain chubby little brother, but overall, they were great.
And the inevitable grumpiness resulting from a stop in Barstow (129387129873 degrees + no $1 diet cokes at McDonalds + inflated gas prices = me looking for something glass to smash) melted away the moment we finally reached my beloved Pacific.
The mountains are beautiful, but my soul aches for the ocean.