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Leave Her With Grammy for One Second And….

 

 

 

Maggie and I are in A-Town for a few days visiting and it is already a delight being here. Even though it isn’t sunny, life in Anacortes during the summer is hard to beat. Not only did we get to swoop in and visit Suzanna and her boys yesterday, but we also got to poke our fingers in my mom’s garden. Within in an hour of pulling into the driveway yesterday, Maggie was busy pulling carrots, peas, rhubarb and strawberries with Grammy Fidget. Sydney has taken on her standard role here and was up at the crack of dawn wanting to get the party started. I got to go on a run this morning with out pushing a stroller or tugging a dog and it was glorious.

Today we get to see some more friends and Midge too, so it’ll be a fantastic day!! I’ve got tons of pictures, but since my parents are practically on dial up still, it might be later than sooner before they appear here. I’m sure I’ll have to share a few before too long. Last night Barry called me during dinner and I removed myself from the dinner table to talk to him. While I was talking to him, my mom quietly asked me if Maggie could have some ice cream since they were all done with dinner. I shook my head yes and carried on with my conversation with Barry.

When I finished the phone call, I walked back into the kitchen to find Maggie with two little spoons full of ice cream, a huge smile, and the tub of Tilamook’s Peanut Butter Chocolate practically on her lap. Maggie was so proud of her double-fists of ice cream and the melted goodness across her face proved that she approved of the flavor. My mom wasn’t really letting her eat out of the tub, but it isn’t exactly something that wouldn’t happen around here.

We’re off to seek out some adventures today and that may or may not include more ice cream.

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Parental Comfort

On the last day of our NoDak trip, the day that was our longest driving day by far, both Maggie and my dad got sick. It wasn’t pretty and nobody really enjoyed it, but we got through it.  Before we realized that Maggie was going to be a bit of a puke-bucket, I banished my dad from my car because I didn’t want him to pass whatever he had on to Maggie. Of course, a few hours later she decided to puke out whatever was in her stomach all over the backseat. It wasn’t very traumatic because after she puked, she was all smiles and giggles. I blame the sprouts from The Montana Club, but that’s another story.

Since my dad was shunned from our car, the only other option was to hunker down in the back seat of my grandparent’s car and hope to ride out his sickness because the other two cars were already in other states. Seeing his bobbing little head in the back seat peeking out of the window with a blanket pulled to his chin made him seem like a little kid all over again. Truthfully, I feel like I got a pretty clear snapshot of him as a kid and my grandparents as parents to their sick kid in the back seat. My grandma worried while my grandpa’s lead foot helped get them closer to home.

Being sick is plain awful no matter which way you cut it. I know that when I’m sick just hearing the voices of my parents makes me feel better, even if they’re just telling me to get some rest and drink lots of fluids.  I also know that when Maggie feels badly, I’m the one that she wants and I’m the one to make her feel better. More often than not she just wants to be held and I’m more than happy to wrap my arms around her. Strangely, as our caravan moved closer to home at the end of our journey, I couldn’t help but wonder if my dad found the same comfort in having his own parents near by. Do we ever really grow up?