We became the Griswold’s the day my second was born. They say that having two isn’t that much different than one. Not the case. Not with the Dubowsky’s, anyway.
Within three months, I had to travel halfway across the country for a work conference. Sure, I could have flown, but with an infant, I didn’t want to leave my family for the few days, so drive it was. 1,000+ miles. With an infant. And a two-year-old. And a husband. Enter: Dubowsky Family Road Trip.
Flashback three months before, to New Year’s Eve – pre-family of 4. We were car shopping, looking to give our Honda Civic a sibling, but more so looking for an end-of-year deal. We test-drove every crossover, SUV, and minivan on the lot. While the minivan was the most practical, the husband wasn’t ready to hang up his manhood, so we focused our efforts on soccer-mom SUVs. Nothing was appealing…maybe because I was actually (unbeknownst to me) in labor. No new car to ring in the New Year. A new baby instead.
Still car-less a week into the whole, family-of-four thing, my husband finds us ‘the car.’ An SUV. With a third row. He saw it, test drove it, and negotiated the price. But he wasn’t going to pull the trigger until: 1. We could see if we could get a car seat in the third row; and 2. I could see it and fall madly in love with it like he did. At the time I didn’t really care about either and would have been happy if it had appeared in the driveway. But why not head to the car dealership 1-week postpartum?
Mind you, my little man was a month early. So he was tiny. Like at this point, about 5 pounds tiny. Completely normal to car shop with a little one, right? The details of the day are still a little fuzzy, but there are some crystal-clear moments amidst the haze. Like trying to navigate the third row and put in a carseat. There is no graceful way to do this, especially when you can barely move from the whole labor-and-delivery thing (note to car-makers with 3rd row jump-seats: a serious area of opportunity here to improve on your design!). I remember breaking a sweat that January day, trying to wrangle the carseat in, pausing for a moment to catch my breath, and looking out the window into the Civic beside me, where my 2-year-old was drinking from her father’s coffee mug. Awesome. It was going to be a long day.
Long story long, we seamlessly (?) buy the SUV after a few more hours at the dealership, and drive it home. Fast-forward three months, and we are preparing to take it on the cross-country trip. We are bringing someone along with us, to help with the baby while I am at the conference, so good thing we have that third row – I knew we had bought this SUV for a reason! We were ready to roll! Third row? Check! Car seat in the third row? Check! Room for luggage for three adults and two kids? Awkward silence.
Enter the roof rack and the Thule. And our status as the Griswold’s. As if the SUV’s gas mileage wasn’t good enough, let’s throw the least aerodynamic cargo box on top of it. Or the most aerodynamic. This wasn’t the 80’s anymore – these things weren’t boxy, they really were sleek. And the slim profile of this aerodynamic Thule probably saved us at least 1 mile-per-gallon in gas mileage over its counterparts, and it could store…nothing. Absolutely nothing.
The only thing that we could fit into the Thule – and I mean only – were two carry-on-sized suitcases. Sure, we could also stuff pillows around the suitcases, because who needs a pillow to nap with on a cross-country trip? Not a big deal – we still had plenty of room in the car for odd-shaped luggage like duffle bags and backpacks.
Or not. Remember that third row? Well, when it was up, it completely eliminated the ability to pack anything in the car.
But wait – we had a hitch! Why not buy one of those cargo shelves that go on a hitch, and bungee all your odd-shaped luggage on that? Completely open to the elements. Did I tell you we were doing this in March, from the Northeast to the Midwest? Not the dead of winter. But not in ideal weather either.
When all was said and done, we had two suitcases and a pack-and-play in the Thule, three duffel bags, two backpacks, a box of diapers, and my breast pump – all under a tarp – on the cargo hitch, and a cooler of juice boxes, sandwiches, and goldfish in the SUV itself. That.was.all.we.could.fit. Oh, and my purse. The purse was a stretch, but given that our gas mileage topped out at about 14 miles-per-gallon once the Griswold’s hit the road, we needed that credit card close…