Pit stop in Panama City

We rolled into Raccoon River Campground in Panama City Beach, FL roughly 6 hours after leaving the bayou of New Orleans, driving through the tips of Mississippi and Alabama in the process. Carrie had joined our journey last night in New Orleans, where she flew in and Ubered to our campsite. Carrie didn’t have her sea legs yet, so she camped out in the passenger seat for most of the trip to avoid getting carsick. We were anxious to get to the nearby beach, but the kids were also enamored with the pool, the playground, and of course the basketball court (Judah). Finally convincing most of them that the beach would be way more fun, we packed up to make the hike to the beach. 

Judah (the one we did not convince) threw a fit about going, so I stayed back with him while he cooled off in time out. Eventually, we made the trek, slowing considerably as we walked past the mini golf course across from the beach, as Judah asked over and over if we would be going there.

By the time we found Bryan, Carrie and the girls, we were sweaty and ready for a break.

Bryan had set up the umbrella his parents loaned us, with our camping chairs underneath. A deep furrowed trail in the white sand evidenced Bryan pulling our green wagon to our spot and I smiled at the girls playing for the first time in warm ocean water. 

I settled down to read from “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,” my anniversary gift from Bryan. The book is actually a compilation of all of Maya Angelou’s autobiographies, beginning with Caged Bird, the only one I’ve read. Sand in my toes, a good book in my lap, my kids playing in the water – this finally felt like vacation.

Eventually, Judah coaxed me up to play catch with his baseball and gloves he brought, while Bryan took a nap under the umbrella’s shade. 

Past dinner time, we headed back to cook up some steak and the kids jumped back into the pool at the campground with Aunt Carrie. 

I rounded up the dirty clothes and tackled my first laundromat session of our trip once the kids were settled in bed. It’s amazing how much $4 feels like when you are pumping 16 quarters into a washer and dryer for ONE load of laundry. As I walked back and forth many times from the laundry room to our RV, I routinely stepped over a pair of little boy forgotten underwear crumpled on the route. Every time I walked by, I checked it again, out of habit, to make sure they weren't Judah's. Carrie eventually came to keep me company and helped fold the clothes when they were done.

The next morning, we pulled out of Racoon River, wishing we could stay longer, but excited for our destination…Disney World!