It's the little moments of a trip that I love the most, like watching Chase help Julia make the cranberry sauce from scratch and sneaking a photo of Greg offering Quinn a baby doll to entertain her while I gave the boys a bath on Christmas day.
It's hanging out on the couch with a baby in footy pajamas, having long conversations covering meaningful topics, like gay marriage and faith and relationships.
It's trying to pose four couples for a picture and realizing there is no way to do it that won't look cheesy, so why not pretend we're a choo-choo train? (See bottom.)
It's the night when Quinn is randomly awake and giddy-happy in her pack-n-play from 10pm-12am and Trenton is deliriously sleep talking that entire time. (Mom, what is that? Pause. Mom, can I touch it? Pause. Mom, is that Quinn?? Pause. HI QUINN! in his happy, high-pitched voice.)
It's the hour—after Trenton finally throws up at midnight and finally falls into a peaceful sleep—when Quinn suddenly wakes up feverish and inconsolable, but your husband manages to get her to fall asleep on his chest.
It's noticing Quinn's hand on Trenton's mouth while she drinks her bottle—and being reminded how incredibly comfortable they are with each other.
It's every single conversation you catch Great-Grandpa having with your children, especially the boy who shares his name. It's the peppermints he pulls out of their ears and their belief that it is doing "good things" that puts them there.
It's the slow-mo video of your family sledding down an icy hill. It's the fact that one of your kids is perfectly content using a discarded piece of plastic to "chisel" away at the ice, while the other goes on ride after ride just for the thrill.
Yep, those are the moments I love most about vacation.
And by the way, Trenton is becoming quite the recreational companion for his dad! He's already better on skis than I am! Go T!