Crispie Treats and Cousin Time

My Uncle John makes the world's best rice crispie treats. Hands down. Once I even requested a pan of them in lieu of a cake for my 14th birthday. This was just an extra perk when our cousins visited last week.

My cousin lives in Arkansas and has a mini-her that's about a year older than my mini-me. Needless to say, we don't see them often, so this was the girls' first meeting. Boy was it a hoot. We started with a cookout at Uncle Eric's house.



Mine is the one that looks like a drowned rat. She suddenly decided it's awesome to run around barefoot (even if her feet get dirty) and play in the rain (even though she hates the shower). Don't get me wrong...I'm TOTALLY fine (maybe "overjoyed" would be a better description) with her willingness to do these things. I'm just confused at the sudden change. Anyway, they used the piece of plastic in Gracie's hand as a dog leash and took each other for walks around the yard. I love preschoolers hard at play. They're ridiculous.

On Tuesday we took our lovely offspring over to West Virginia's one and only amusement park. Close your eyes for a moment (after you read the description, of course) and try to smell a combination of dirty grease, hot asphalt, and corndogs. Now spin around in a thousand circles until you are about to throw up a corndog that you didn't even eat. Ok, open your eyes. You either just flashed back twenty years and were flooded with memories from childhood or maybe that was your first trip to Camden Park. Either way, I just saved you $20.99.

The girls had a blast. They don't know each other at all (in fact, Gracie kept asking what her cousin's name was) but they sure were holding hands and running all over the park like they were lifelong BFFs. (Three words: Move. Back. Home.) My favorite part of the evening was that Ainsley wanted to do everything. Twice. No hands. This was me as a kid. I think they got switched somehow. I hope that if they hang out a few more times before they have their own kids then maybe some of that will rub off on Grace. That would be great.

On Friday we went over and went swimming with Ainsley at her Grandparents' house. My kid loves the water as long as it's nowhere near her face. I cannot comprehend this, because I think I stared swimming then I was three days old. (That's right folks, and I was a December baby, too! And I walked to school uphill both ways in the snow and once in wind that surely would have blown piglet away.) Ainsley is a year older and ten times braver, so of course she was everywhere in the pool. I kept pointing this out to Gracie and saying things like "See? Ainsley puts her whole head in and it's not melting her face off!" She would reply something like "That's ok, I'm fine," and continue her delicate water play.

Ainsley finally had enough of this pansiness and said "See, I'll show you" and with her much bigger size and all of her cousinly love she grabbed the top of Gracie's head and pushed her under. She let go after the bubbles stopped...ok, ok...it wasn't that long, probably like a millisecond. But when your pansy child gets an unexpected baptism, it seems like a lot longer! Anyway, Gracie came sputtering up and looked at Ainsley as if to say "What. was the POINT. of that!?" It didn't help her psyche that my mom, her two cousins, and I were rolling on the grass laughing at her. (That's how our family rolls. "What? You ran a tent stake through your hand? Take an aspirin and put a slab of bacon on it. And don't forget to quit whining about it. It's fine. Man up.") In case you're still on edge-she survived.

She also forgave her cousin. We went back in the house when the kids started turning purple and they played awhile longer. When I started thinking that the Drama Queen might off someone's head if she didn't get some rest soon I started warning her. She began to insist that we didn't need to leave because she wanted to stay and snuggle with Ainsley in her bed. I went to retrieve them from this cuteness a few minutes later and they were hiding. (Seriously kid? I invented that move.) When they returned to the living room the begging began.

"But Mommy! I wanna stay here with Ainsley!"
"Well honey, I would like that, but we have to go."
"But AINSLEY said I could STAY!"
*enter Ainsley, stage left. Delivers sharp elbow jab to Gracie's ribs. Hisses through clenched teeth.* "You weren't supposed to tell them!"

We all died from laughter again. This time at Ainsley's expense. Sorry kiddo-Gracie just has too much to learn about these kinds of things and no cousins around to teach her! Ha! But when you move here, you can teach her. Good plan. See you soon!

Wishing they were home for Christmas

It's been two years since my Grandparents left for Utah--something I don't talk about much, mostly because I'm supposed to be funny. That's how I usually handle the serious that life throws my way. You know, with humor. I cringe when people tell me of tragedy in their own lives. Partly because I feel for them, and partly because I cannot function in these situations without trying to make light of them.

Anyway, I haven't found anything remotely amusing about Granny and Pawpaw's relocation, so I just don't say anything. I've been thinking a lot about them since Christmas, because The Kid unintentionally broke my heart on Christmas Eve. It was our third Christmas that we didn't go to Granny and Pawpaw's house for Christmas Eve, and even though the last few were something of a ritual, I can't forget that it's what I'm supposed to be doing.

We were sitting at our house with Mom and Dad after a Christmas light drive with the kid, trying to create new traditions. We ate pizza and opened one present each. I strategically gave The Kid her package that "Big Pawpaw" sent her, because I had already peeked and knew they contained a pair of Christmas PJs that she would love to sleep in that night. I also figured that for me, it would be the only small way I could pretend they were here.



When I told her who gave them to her, her face lit up. "Big Pawpaw and Granny?! Awwwww...I think he would like to see me. And I would give Granny a hug so she'll feel better." She doesn't know that there isn't a cure for Alzheimer's, but I sure do wish a hug would do it. Or at least that I could be young enough to believe that it might. Or at the very least that my child could give it a try. It sure wouldn't hurt.

I sat there, soaking in these statements "from the mouth of a babe", and I just wanted to die. I didn't even know she knew (or remembered, since it was apparently mentioned to her at some point) that Granny was sick. I went to visit in May, and all I told her was who I was visiting and that she couldn't go because she was too little for the airplane. If only I could be as sensitive as my child, then I might begin to deal with some things.

My dad called Big Pawpaw to let The Kid thank him, and I know he couldn't hear a word she was saying, but my heart was longing for him to know her. She told him she would like to come and see him, but she was too big to fit on the airplane. So she may have been a little confused on the reason I gave her...it was still better than "You can't come with me because 1) I can't afford to buy you a ticket 2) I'm afraid I won't be able to keep up with everything and you in the airport in Atlanta when I have to change planes alone and 3) I don't want you to remember Granny sickly and dying when you didn't know her before."

I guess when she's older I'll be able to tell her all about them. I was never as close to them as I wanted to be or wished I was, and if I had known how quickly they would be gone, I would have tried even harder. Maybe this summer we'll go on some bike rides by their old house. I might even take her down to the boat docks to feed the ducks. I know her memories of them won't be her own, but maybe some day we can share mine. Until then, I hope I can learn to share my daughter's ability to know just the right thing to say.