Around hour three, the snack supply became a bartering economy. Trading began. Negotiations intensified. I witnessed a juice box exchange hands for two cookies that would’ve made Wall Street traders proud. The floor became a graveyard of snack wrappers, and I made peace with the fact that cleaning the car would be a future problem.​

By hour five, even I was wondering if York, South Carolina had somehow moved further away since we started driving. The kids’ complaints reached a crescendo. The adults exchanged those knowing glances that say, “Why did we think this was a good idea?” And yet, we kept driving—partly because we’d come too far to turn back, and partly because I knew my sister was waiting with her famous “W” drink, and that alone was worth any amount of highway misery.​

The Magical Moment When Everything Changed

Then we arrived. Baby thank goodness! 

You know that scene in movies when storm clouds part and sunlight breaks through? That’s what happened to the kids’ attitudes the moment we pulled into the driveway. Suddenly, six hours of complaining evaporated like they’d never happened. Doors flew open. Kids tumbled out of the car with renewed energy that seemed physically impossible given their previous state of vehicular despair.​

York, South Carolina welcomed us with open arms and that distinctly Southern hospitality that makes you feel like you’ve come home even if you’ve never been there before. The air felt different—cleaner, quieter, away from the rush of everyday life, WE IN THE COUNTRY.  My sister’s place had a spacious backyard that would become the stage for s’mores and, unexpectedly, the most adorable fashion show I’ve ever witnessed.​

The kids who’d spent the entire drive acting like they were being tortured were now running around, exploring, laughing, and asking if we could stay an extra week. Their excitement was infectious and immediate. That’s when I realized something important: the destination really can erase the difficulty of the journey, especially when what’s waiting for you is quality time with people you love.​

Why Multi-Generational Thanksgiving Travel Creates Lasting Bonds

There’s something profoundly special about spending holidays with extended family outside of anyone’s home territory. When my sister and I decided to spend Thanksgiving together with all my kids, and her Dog ( My Dewphew) we weren’t just planning a meal—we were creating a shared experience that none of us would have in our regular routines. A Tradition so to say. ​

Multi-generational travel takes everyone out of their comfort zones in the best possible way. Nobody’s playing host in their own home, stressing about cleaning or making sure everything’s perfect. I mean for her = STRESSED, Me not so much.To be honest every one was very… present. Available. Ready to connect without the usual distractions of daily life.​

The kitchen became our gathering place, which brings me to one of my favorite parts of the trip: cooking Thanksgiving dinner together- SORTA My sister and I tag-teamed the side  preparation while the kids rotated through helping by running up and down the steps, taste-testing, and occasionally just hanging out, asking us questions about everything.​

We made the classics with our own family twist: a golden-brown turkey that took forever (to get there,, haha)  but was worth every minute, a savory ham for the non-turkey enthusiasts, macaroni and cheese that was more cheese than macaroni (exactly as it should be), and collard greens that my sister seasoned to perfection. Here’s where it gets interesting—we also made white rice, which I know sounds unusual for Thanksgiving, but trust me on this: it’s absolutely phenomenal with turkey gravy. If you haven’t tried it, you’re missing out on a simple but game-changing combination.​

And cookies. Because no Thanksgiving is complete without dessert that kids can actually get excited about.

The collaborative cooking process meant we spent hours together in the kitchen, talking about everything and nothing, reminiscing about past Thanksgivings, sharing stories the kids had never heard, and creating new memories with every dish we prepared. When families cook together, something magical happens—barriers come down, conversations deepen, and you remember why these people matter so much to you.​

The Secret “W” Drink That Made It All Official

My sister’s signature DRANK, was created one that’s become legendary in her household: the “W” drink. Named after her new family name, Williams, this cocktail is her masterpiece, and yes, the recipe is top secret. I don’t even know it, Pleading the 5th. ​

I can tell you this much: it’s dangerously delicious. The kind of drink that tastes so good you forget it has alcohol until you try to stand up and realize you should probably slow down. My sister makes it with care, adding each ingredient with the precision ( eye balling it all, following your gut), its perfected. The presentation alone—the way she garnishes it, serves it in the perfect glass—makes you feel like you’re at a fancy cocktail bar rather than a family Thanksgiving. It is bougie, just how I like it. ​

What makes the “W” drink special isn’t just how it tastes (though it’s phenomenal). It’s that this drink has become synonymous with our celebrations. When my sister starts mixing the “W,” you know it’s officially a special occasion. The kids even get excited about it because she makes them their own mocktail version, so they feel included in the tradition. Y’all better grab some Welchers.​

These signature family recipes and rituals—whether it’s a secret cocktail, a special way of making a dish, or a tradition that only your family understands—become part of your identity. They’re the stories you tell. They’re what makes your family uniquely yours.​

S’mores, Fire Rods, and Backyard Magic

As evening settled in, we migrated to the backyard where a small fireplace waited for us. Armed with fire rods, marshmallows, Hershey’s chocolate bars, and graham crackers, we embarked on the timeless tradition of making s’mores.​

If you’ve never watched kids debate the proper marshmallow-roasting technique, you’re missing peak entertainment. Some wanted theirs perfectly golden and evenly toasted. Others preferred the “catch it on fire and blow it out” method that results in a charred exterior and gooey interior. Arguments were made. Techniques were defended. Marshmallows were sacrificed in the name of experimentation.​

The beauty of s’mores isn’t just the sugar rush (though that helps). It’s that this simple activity—fire, marshmallows, chocolate—creates space for conversation. As we sat around that backyard fireplace, the kids shared stories from school, asked us questions, and we all laughed at marshmallow-related disasters. No screens. No distractions. Just faces illuminated by firelight and the kind of connection that seems increasingly rare in our overscheduled world.​

The sticky fingers and chocolate-smeared faces were badges of honor. These are the moments that become “remember when” stories that your family tells for years.​

The Surprise Fashion Show That Stole the Show

Here’s something I didn’t see coming: while the adults were cleaning up from dinner, the kids disappeared into the bedrooms and emerged having organized a full-scale fashion show and help from my lovely Twin Sister Makeup layered faces. ​

The girls raided closets, assembled outfits, found heels (yes, heels!), and created a runway experience complete with music, poses, and attitude. They took turns modeling different looks, strutting across the living room like they were walking for major fashion houses. The confidence, creativity, and pure joy on their faces was absolutely priceless.​

What started as kids playing dress-up evolved into something more meaningful. We watched them express themselves, support each other, cheer for each other’s “walks,” and lose themselves in imaginative play that didn’t require any expensive entertainment or planned activity. They created their own magic simply because they had time, space, and each other.​

As adults, we became the enthusiastic audience, clapping and cheering like we were front row at Fashion Week. Those moments of unexpected creativity and joy? That’s what family travel is really about. You can’t schedule spontaneous fashion shows. They just happen when you create the right environment.​

8 Survival Tips for Long Family Road Trips (Learned from 6 Hours of “Are We There Yet?”)

Based on our experience, here’s what actually works when you’re facing hours in the car with kids:​

Stock up on variety snacks, not just healthy ones. We loaded up on everything from fruit to candy, and I’m not ashamed. The variety kept kids interested longer than any single snack type would have. Create a “snack bag” for each child so they feel ownership over their supply.

Set realistic expectations before you leave. Tell kids exactly how long the drive will be, show them on a map, and break it into manageable chunks. “We’ll drive for two hours, then stop for lunch, then three more hours, then another break.”

Create a road trip playlist together. Let each person choose 3-5 songs. Yes, you’ll hear some questionable music choices, but the buy-in helps reduce complaints.

Plan strategic stops every 2-3 hours. Even if nobody needs a bathroom break, stretch breaks help immensely. Find rest stops with space to run around for 10 minutes.

Bring audiobooks or podcasts the whole family enjoys. This worked better for us than individual device entertainment because we could discuss what we were hearing together. BUT also bring those Ipads & Headphones.

Don’t fight the screens. Download movies, shows, and games before you leave. Sometimes survival trumps screen time limits, and that’s okay.

Keep a “road trip trash bag” easily accessible. Contain the snack wrapper chaos before it becomes archaeological dig material.

Remember the destination payoff. When complaints escalate, remind kids (and yourself) what awaits: special people, special experiences, memories being made. Sometimes you have to endure to get to the extraordinary.​

The truth is, even with perfect planning, long drives with kids will have challenging moments. But here’s what I learned: those challenging moments become part of the story. The kids who complained for six hours now talk about that trip as one of their favorite memories. They don’t remember being bored in the car as much as they remember the fashion show, the s’mores, the “W” drink ceremony, and feeling special because we all made the effort to be together.​

When the Journey Becomes Part of the Memory

Looking back, I’m almost grateful for that difficult drive. It created contrast. It made the arrival sweeter. It proved to all of us—especially the kids—that sometimes the best experiences require perseverance. I will fly out any time, but this one trip was great.​

Family travel doesn’t have to be perfect to be perfect, if that makes sense. The snack-wrapper-covered car, the repetitive questions, the traffic, the bathroom stops—they’re all part of the adventure. And when you arrive at a place where your sister is waiting with a secret-recipe drink, where you’ll cook a Thanksgiving feast together, where kids will spontaneously create fashion shows, and where you’ll gather around a fire making s’mores and having the kinds of conversations that only happen when you’re away from regular life? Every minute of the drive becomes absolutely worth it.​

So if you’re considering a family road trip but worried about the journey, I encourage you to do it anyway. Stock up on snacks, download some good music, set expectations, and remember: the destination is waiting, and it’s going to be better than you imagine.​

Ready to plan your own family adventure? Download our free Family Road Trip Survival Kit with printable games, packing lists, and conversation starters to make your journey smoother. Subscribe to get exclusive family travel tips and real stories from the road—no perfect Pinterest moments, just honest experiences from one family to yours.

What’s your worst-to-best family travel story? Share it in the comments below. I’d love to hear how your challenging journeys became cherished memories.