My Summer Vacation, Part 4:

Day 7:

It’s our last full day in Maine. We decide to head into Portland and take the kids to the Children’s Museum, since they’re having a Dr. Seuss party that afternoon. Plus, it’s free on Fridays, and free is always good.

We’re on the road when we realize this is the one attraction in the entire state husband did not print out directions for. And we have no map of Portland. No worries. It’s a small city, and there has to be signs or a visitor’s booth or something. We’ll find it.

Life lesson learned: Never, never go into frickin’ Portland without directions or a map. We drove around in circles for an hour looking for the place. The signs we did find for visitors’ information sent us around in circles. You can’t get there from here, indeed.

At some point, my stupid brain remembers we have not one but two cell phones in the car, and the phone number of the museum. I call and get directions. Turns out we had been driving in a four block radius of the place all along. Grumble, grumble, grumble.

We stop at the art museum next door and get a city map. The Dr. Seuss thing (and free hours) doesn’t start for a bit, so we’ve got time to kill. The museum’s information lady suggests taking a train ride, so we hop back in the car and drive to the train museum.

Jak-El, who had been a bit cranky (quelle surprise!), perks up at the sight of the train cars in the museum, and the Thomas the Tank Engine train table. He plays while we want for the next train ride. He’s happy, until we announce we’re going outside to get on the real train.

Commence spaz attack. Child cries as we get on train. Child cries while we find seats. Child screams as I force him to sit down.

Dan-El, meanwhile, is the happiest little pooper in the world. He sits on his dad’s lap and waves to all passersby like Betty White in the Rose Bowl Parade.

Jak-El screams for most of the first half of the ride, finally completely calming down when the train stops for a short mid-ride break. A juice box and a cookie convinces him to sit sullenly and quietly (a vast improvement) for the rest of the trip.


Next is the Children’s Museum. After all the sturm und drang, I’m happy to report this was a success. Jak-El enjoyed it, and particularly liked getting his face painted. He choose the crude spider design offered on the sheet of possible face design options, which looked even cruder when painted on his face. “Spider-Man! Spider-Man! I want Spider-Man!” He was thrilled.

We head home, stopping for fried clams and chowder (no clam cakes please!). We eat them and finish off the last open bottle of wine. As always, wine is good.

Day 8:

Time to go home. Jak-El actually helps pack, an amazing feat.

We stop in the center of Kennebunkport to do our only bit of vacation shopping. I’m obsessed with trying fudge from Roly’s English Fudge, the first American outpost of a U.K. chain. (Why, I’m not sure. I like fudge. God save the queen. I dunno.)

We go to the fudge shop only to discover it doesn’t open for another 45 minutes. A few toy store perusals and a stop in a jewelry store to buy some gifts eats up some of the time, and we decide to do a horse and buggy ride for the remainder. Our horse is named Redd. Other than Jak-El being so excited he practically jumps off the carriage at one point, the experience is pretty uneventful, which is nice. Then we get fudge.

Lunch is had at a lovely little Scottish restaurant, McDonalds. We stop at another McD’s closer to home and buy Jak-El the ice cream cone he had been promised earlier in the day if he ate his lunch. He finishes it on the porch as we unpack. Later, I find dried, sticky melted ice cream on the front door. And the porch furniture. And his car seat. And the side of the car.

Dan-El happily plays in the living room while we unpack, overjoyed to again be in an area he can roam free without being “reset” every 30 seconds. (Yea childproofing.)

And now we’re home. And you’ve read a travelogue that took almost as long as the actual vacation to write. The moral of all this? Family is good, wine is good, Portland signage is bad.

It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m gonna go open some wine now. You do the same.