A while back, I had talked to my folks about an extended visit during the summer. Evan would be up to his ears in 16-hour days prepping and then attending San Diego Comicon, the most busy and important part of his work year. So we booked our tickets and alerted the East Coast: the Brockway+Metcalfs (sans patriarch) are coming! Stock up on the bacon, pinot gris and tortellini!
Saturday, July 1st, we puttered. Sunday, we puttered and packed.
This is what The Goose packed for 13 days on the east coast. 6 princess dress-up costumes, a feather kitty Mardi Gras mask, her foam lego sword and shield, and about eleventy bajillion Archie comic digests.
Needless to say, I edited her suitcase a bit.
Monday, we woke at 5am and packed snacks. We rustled the kids out of bed, got them dressed, and took off for the Burbank airport. It was a grueling mile and a half.
We gave Evan many smooches and set off to deal with security. We chatted with many lovely grandfolk on line and got directed to the "families and people who can't take their shoes off unassisted" line. Little do they know that my kids can go through security like a frequent flier trawling for an upgrade. They've flown to Seattle, Dallas and Cabo almost every year of their tender lives. At two, they all knew how to haul themselves out of their strollers, take off their shoes, and place their (personally packed) backpacks on the conveyer belt.
Burbank has the new full body x-ray scan kiosks. Now, I feed my kids mostly additive free foods but will happily vaccinate them with everything that comes down the pike. But I'm not thrilled about those kiosks. Luckily, the friendly TSA agent happily put us off into a corner without my asking and we were able to go through the metal detector and fend off a pat-down. I wouldn't have a problem with a patdown, nor any other bricks and stones kind of security. I'll happily go through the x-ray kiosk -- my droopy bits would only frighten the technicians, and I am done with procreating and nursing. But I'm not crazy about putting my kids through an untested, new technology. If that makes you wait a couple extra minutes in security, tough nougies for you, friend.
We made our way to the gate -- not a hard task, since there's barely a dozen gates in Burbank -- and plopped down to wait for the boarding call. Oscar immediately started to yammer about Pokemon, and a kid nearby drifted over and they started to chat. When the call sounded for "people that are boarding with small children and those that might need more time" I gathered my tribe and went. When I fly with Evan, we board according to our row numbers, but when I fly with the three kids by my lonesome, I take advantage of going ahead of all those creepy mouth breathers that hang out by the gate, ready to pounce. When I fly with the kids, I check bags, so our only carry-ons are their personal backpacks that will fit nicely under the seats. We have no need to fight for overhead bins.
Arlo, The Goose and I filled a row. Oscar was on the aisle across from us. He shared the row with an attractive 20-something chickie. Amazingly, the seat between them remained empty.
So, I apologized to the hipster girl, and sent Oscar off a couple rows to find his new friend. He occupied the empty seat for the next five hours. and Oscar and his new pal Julian played Pokemon, Fruit Ninja, and various games on O's new Kindle Fire for the next five hours. Every so often I needed to shush them, and every so often I forced ham and crackers and cheese into Oscar, and then I checked with his mom and fed them M&Ms little by little. But they totally dug each other; Julian's mom had a quiet flight, and we exchanged emails and hope to set up a playdate in the future.
We landed and I found a text from the folks that they were waiting for us! It was a great surprise, since I expected our local car service to pick us up. We made our way off the plane and there they were, Grandma Betsy and Sampi, in the living flesh, waiting with grand full-body hugs.
The drive home to Pawling was long -- a couple hours, with some annoying bumper to bumper stuff. But I was so happy to chat with my dad, and my mom regaled Oscar and The Goose. Arlo passed out about fifteen minute into the drive after a two minute temper tantrum. That boy is nothing if not predictable.
We spent a couple lazy days in Pawling, tormenting the cat, wandering around the woods looking for the perfect slingshot stick, and swimming at the local park. IN A LAKE. A kinda green and murky lake. But it was gorgeous nonetheless.
Mom and Dad grilled steaks, fried eggs, read books, opened endless numbers of yogurt tubes, cajoled many bites of broccoli down crabby gullets. I downloaded both seasons of Downton Abbey and devoured them, sitting on the screened-in back porch, swinging in a hammock chair and balancing a glass of wine on my knee. We missed Evan to pieces, but he was working long hours prepping for Comicon, and made time to talk to us every night and text multiple times a day.
My camera ate the first couple days of photos, so photos will be sparse in the first few posts. I will try and make up for it with my sparkling wit.
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