On grandparents, gag reflexes, GPS and other joys of family roadtrips

We had the wheels, the time and we were missing one of my grandmothers, so my parents and Lil E and I took one weekend day to get out of the city and just breathe.

We loaded up the milfivan with kiddie DVDs, bottles of water, giant cups of coffee, and our regular battery of motion-sick-child gear -- Dramamine, a pile of towels, three extra outfits for the boy and one for the mama, and then a prayer for please God, if you have any control over the gag reflex, let it be enabled in these 2-1/2 hours to Indiana and then again on the return trip, particularly in consideration of the penance paid on our last visit to this grandmother when it took double-time with all the sudden stops to catch, clean up, change and clean up some more with a crying and miserable kid in too many gnarly gas stations. Then, like good little test drivers, we sat in our parking space for a half-hour trying to figure out how in the hell to activate the wireless earphones so that my dad and I wouldn't have to hear Handy Manny all the way to Indiana (it gives me shivers just to think about). That dilemma was followed by how to get the satellite radio rolling up front (and not on that creepy Hair Nation station and, for the sake of not murdering the retired folk, definitely not the Margaritaville station). That led us to a nice long discussion over erratic button-pushing to get my grandmother's address inputted to the GPS lady (who, by the way, began to sound a wee bit irritated by the end of the day, I swear).

Because the technology wasn't
lovely/distracting/exciting/frustrating enough, we had to stop at
Dunkin' Donuts to get breakfast on the road. Clearly, one of us could
have killed all necessary animals and home-baked all high-carb breads
and prepared them all and placed them lovingly in paper wraps in a
hand-stenciled bag in the time it took us to convince the GPS lady we were
going to Indiana and no longer be driving in Illinois. Alas, it was a
family trip, so instead we had to yell our overly-complicated breakfast
orders to another increasingly irritated lady on the other side of the
car window. Thank God this one delivered coffee to us. If the GPS
people could figure out how to give out directions and coffee, they
would have that minivan perfected.



In some part of my life, I must have been uncharacteristically pious
(or at the least, forgiving of something un-Jesuslike or sweet to some
old man crossing the street) because eventually, the ride got smoother.
The GPS lady guided us toward my grandmother's with ease, letting us
know in hundreds of feet when we were approaching turns, the wireless
earphones held up for one whole episode of Handy Manny
and then the drugs kicked in and the boy slept soundly across from my
mom (also sleeping soundly) until we pulled into the drive.



Once there, we had a lazy day that we all needed. Lil E played in the
big yard and explored a bit of the surrounding forest. We all had naps
on the enormous brown sectional couch and then went down to the
riverside park to play. After all that preparation, it was an exhale.



Before we said goodbye to my grandmother until Thanksgiving, packed it
all back in and then sat in her driveway for another 20 minutes to rev
all those features back up (during which time, my 89-year old
grandmother peeked her head in the window and asked sweetly, "Does this thing have OnStar? Because that seems REALLY nice!"), my favorite moment was watching Lil E run through the yard with a cat from next door.



He gently petted her head and dangled gold and red leaves that she
batted with her tiny paws. He sat down next to her on the grass and
talked to her as if she was a sweet, sleepy baby. And then, when he
realized the patio and a tree stump would make a great performing
stage, he jumped up and called out to the cat companion, "Come on, kitty! Let's dance!"



And the cat just looked up at my boy, bouncing around and shaking
everything wildly and then went back to licking her outstretched legs.
It was my boy dancing for the kitty cat that held my attention,
though.  I took quick and unaligned photos that I knew would be small
reminders of the pictures I was taking in my mind.

Comments

[zoe]

wow, i wish we could see the pictures in your mind...because they sound so cute! my son has motion sickness too, as do i. we have had many, many vomit filled road trips. nothing like stripping naked on the side of the highway while semi drivers honk.