So my husband and I have officially become old-fart, fuddy-duddy parents.

We're taking our daughter to Story Land.

Those of you with children, I'm sure, know all about Story Land, that wonderful mini-Disneylandesque park in New Hampshire that has attractions such as the Turtle Twirl and the Old Woman in the Shoe and Professor Bigglestep's Loopy Lab (??).

I vaguely remember visiting the park as a child. Actually, I don't remember much except standing outside with my family in the parking lot. Hopefully, McKenna will have better recollections.

Judging from the map on its brochure, Story Land is approximately a half-mile from the Canadian border. My wise mommy neighbor - who last year visited the park twice - said it takes about 3 1/2 hours to get there. Yikes. The plan of attack is to drive to Patrick's father's house in Tyngsboro, which takes about an hour, have some lunch, and then finish the remaining two-hour drive with McKenna snoozing away in her car seat. I'm rather excited. I can't wait to see McKenna's reaction to everything. She's a daredevil at heart, so I know she'll have a blast. And it's amazing to see her experience things for the first time. Everything is so new to her. We jaded adults see something like the Turtle Twirl and think, "Oh man, this is so cheesy." But McKenna sees this awesome, gigantic turtle and thinks, "Oh my God, look at this turtle! He's huge! And he twirls! I wonder if he would fit in my Little People house? I could put him on the toilet!" That's what she'd be thinking. In reality she'd be saying, "Turtle! Turtle! Turtle! Pee!"

So all of this planning got me thinking about the trips my husband and I used to take, pre-baby. So many were just made on a whim. "The Simpsons are going to be live at a comedy festival in Montreal! Let's go!!" Or the cold, rainy April when I was pregnant with McKenna and desperately needed some sun, so we hopped on a plane to Myrtle Beach for the weekend.

And we have many fond memories of traipsing around New York City. (We'd actually drive our car into the city.) We'd stay in this great little Howard Johnson's near Times Square and go out to eat every night, catch some shows, visit a great many museums and just walk around being dumb tourists. It was great.

And then there was Parisand Rome, somewhere I'll never bring my child. They'd pick her pocket straightaway.

I can't even imagine making such spontaneous trips now. Even a trip to the store has to be uber-coordinated so that it won't interfere with nap time, or lunch, and large rations of juice and crackers must be taken along, as well as extra diapers and a binky.

Someday we'll take McKenna on wild adventures. I can't wait to expose her to different cultures and lands and foods and experiences. But for now, we'll stick to Professor Bigglestep's Loopy Lab, whatever that may be. And enjoy watching as she takes it all in.

Despite having a robust Italian maiden name like "DelSignore," Dana R. Laverty once got swindled by a spineless cabbie in Rome. You can reach her at danarae14@hotmail.com.