Ok, then. Indianapolis was ... hard. Hard and easy. Easy in that I felt pretty much myself, hard in that it's never easy taking three kids on a second long road trip in just a few week's time. More complaints than last time, but since it was a new place (vs. Ohio), it was more exciting for them. I had charge of them for an afternoon while Dr. D visited his father in the hospital, and I surprised myself by bringing them to the Dairy Queen and buying them whatever they wanted (within reason - it was almost dinner time).
But then we got to the hotel and they'd double booked our room, so after a minor moment of flipping out (there was no way I was going to cram all five of us in one room - I know, lots of people do it, but I'm not lots of people - I am so sick of not sleeping), we got ourselves switched to another hotel a few miles up the road. All was well. Went to the pool, slept fine, had a yummy breakfast, more pool, back to the condo where my mother-in-law is staying, and said our good-byes.
A short, sweet trip.
If only I didn't feel so desperately bad about it. About not letting Dr. D go on his own (he didn't seem to want to, but it would have been better for him, but I didn't want to be stuck home alone overnight), about not being as supportive for my mother-in-law as I should be, about being a narcissistic self-absorbed prig. Sigh. Did I mention I'm tired? Maybe I'll write a letter to my mother-in-law. She would like it, and I would get to procrastinate even more!
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