When Circe was just a toddler, about the equivalent of 2-and-a-half , her eldest brother packed their family up into the dilapidated commercial van they lived in and moved them all the way across the continent to the other coast, in hopes of finding a job that would let him put a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs all at the same time, instead of one or the other. There were only two seats in the van, the ones up front, so all the kids had to sit in the floor in the back and make do as best they could. By that time it had become evident that the boys were growing (mentally and physically) faster than Circe, as she was the only one still left with solid baby-grey eyes, no sign of change, and was the only one left who didn’t have a solid grasp of language or walking ‘firmly’ yet. Somehow, Arch managed to procure a single carseat, and this seat -- either held in the lap of one of the larger boys or wedged between two of them -- was Circe’s for the entire trip across the continent. She still remembers being bounced around in it and watching wind turbines appear and disappear out the back window as they traveled.