The Grandparents, (my parents), Ron and Elva Cox of Seeley Lake, Montana, walking along the beach near Schooner's Landing in Newport, Oregon.
I used them as my excuse. I wasn't actually scheduled to work last friday and although I could have gone in, (and it would have looked better), I explained that my parents were coming over from Montana and that my mom has some serious health issues, and if it was ok, I would start coming in regularly on Monday.
It's a good thing that I didn't realize until Monday afternoon that the job I'd thought was mine wasn't mine yet and that there were at least three other people wanting it. Glad I didn't ask for any additional time off--which I'd considered because I've got to do some birthday shopping for Sam soon and she'll want to go along if I do it on the weekend and that just isn't going to happen.
It's also a good thing that no one from work met my parents because, frankly, my mother has never looked so good. Actually, I'm sure she looked gorgeous in her youth, but from the adult child's perspective, ( you know, I don't know if I can get through this one without inserting my foot in my mouth at least once), Mom looks thinner and more energetic than I remember ever seeing her. Most of my adolescence she was at least two sizes bigger--I don't remember ever seeing her this small. I admit, I'm a little envious, but also hopeful.
We don't get to see my parents very often. It's more than twelve hours between our houses and that just doesn't fly with Samantha. Somewhere between hours six and eight of driving, Sam starts to chirp with more and more insistence, "The room. The room. The room. THE ROOM. THE ROOM!" So if one wants to arrive at Grandmother's House fairly sane, one must find a motel at the mid-trip point, usually for us that means the Super 8 with the indoor pool at Cheney, Washington. For my parents the sleep-over point could be just about anywhere, but then, they aren't entertaining Sam.
Entertaining Sam...the other great fun about traveling anywhere as a family in the car these days, is that we resemble so many other families whose kids fight and bicker for the duration of the trip. In our car it goes something like this:
Sam: Return 12 [referring to the track of the CD we're listening to and she also tries to pick all the CDs--without shame].
Miranda: That's the last time, Sam.
Sam: Return 12.
Miranda: No, Sam. I told you that was the last time.
Sam: Return 12, Return 12 RETURN 12! RETURN 12!
Miranda: MOM!
me: Miranda, I'm the one in the passenger seat having to return the damned thing and this makes me feel like I'm back at the bar trying to satisfy the horrible taste of multiple, obnoxious customers. I don't want to hear her keep squawking.
Miranda: [mutters under her breath and makes sounds of supreme disgust with me, her sister, and the whole situation].
me: Last time, Sam. Then we're going to listen to something Miranda wants.
[after putting in a new CD to keep Miranda happy, we get...]
Sam: Return 12...Return 12.
Miranda: No, Sam!
Sam: Return 6. Return 6. [Because of course, Sam knows all of the tracks on ALL the CDs and she is going to continue to request what she wants. It's the nature of autism].
But that isn't the reason we don't see my parents much. It's a lot of the reason, but not the whole reason. It's just too expensive these days. There's the motel room, the meals, the gas, and then there are four pets at home who aren't goldfish. If only they were.
My parents are a little more mobile than we are, with a built in doggie nanny who wants to keep their dog. But they are the busiest retired people I know. So, because of the distance and "extenuating circumstances", we don't get over to see each other as much as we would like.
So this has been a really good visit so far. So far, it has been a couple of hours on Friday, and then all day Saturday.
The beach was wonderful. I've always loved Newport and the day was beautiful. Sam was ecstatic, as usual, at getting to go to the beach. She not only got to play in the surf, get completely soaked and chilled playing with Miranda, but she got to go back to Schooner's Landing and go swimming in a very warm, indoor pool. Sam is never as happy as when she's in water, unless she's at Disneyland, and then she tries to get in any water she can find there as well (just ask her Aunt Cheryl who will probably never go back to Disneyland with us again). As usual, we ate lunch at Mo's. This time it was Mo's Annex. We are a very predictable, routine, ho-hum kind of family and we intend to stay that way.
Now, for the sake of innate laziness and overwhelming fatigue ( bad sign, I write this on Monday and have four more days of work this week), I will share some of our beach pictures.
I love this one of Sam and Miranda. Sam was actually running hard because the water was so cold.
I should have timed this picture a little better so that you could see this hole Miranda was standing in. The walls of the rocks are covered in anemones that Miranda loved to poke and torment. Great fun.
Miranda poking the anemones while Grandpa observes and Grandma observes the two of them.
Mick is holding the girls' shoes and coats while the three are intrigued with the same little tide pool.
Tomorrow: More from Newport.
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