The back seat easily transforms into a playground when the kids are onboard and once, with only the rain as shield, the car became a dressing room.
You step inside and the mixed smell of Burger King's Mushroom Swiss and beer will greet you. I have this feeling that every time we drive toward Miracle's garage for a much-needed car wash, the boys secretly wished they were closed for the day.
I don't remember being this busy in recent years but in the years to come, I'll remember the recent months as the busiest and one of the most hectic time in our lives. We're often THAT busy that we would take turns on the driver seat; Jes would take it when it was time for me to write a story and I'd do the same when it was time for him to do some last-minute editing. He'd drive so I could eat and vice-versa.
Once, in between a meeting and a medical emergency, we -- embarrassments of all embarrassments -- had to plug our printer in the hallway of a private hospital because we did not have the luxury of time to go home or to an Internet cafe to print the presentation we needed to bring to the meeting.
It was, as Jes described it so hayskul and disgustingly jologs. I know he secretly hated me for successfully convincing him to do it there. But we're no celebrities and I'm not vying for the Miss Universe title so I felt we had nothing to lose.
When we're not in the car, we're chasing flights in airports, hailing a cab to catch a flight, boarding a vessel or rushing here or there. People who want to meet with us have to follow where we will be at a particular time. It's embarrassing, really. And stressful. And crazy. And wrinkle-inducing. And the most fertile ground for WWIII.
But strangely, we thrive, almost perfectly.
all photos by me. On the road in Java, Indonesia
