I might possibly be crazy.
Today I loaded my kids, my over-90-year old grandparents, and my twenty-week pregnant self into the car and drove “Up North” for an overnight trip.
Three across the back seat. Two in boosters, three needed help buckling.
We would require a hotel suite, preferably near a certain relative’s house so we’d be close enough to visit before continuing on to the farm where my Grandpa was born.
As my dear Aunt Jan put it, I’m the organizer and she’s the shopper. And so, we find ourselves at Great Wolf Lodge. It’s a massive hotel complete with (way too catchy) theme music and a water park.
I’m happy to report that we’ve made it this far…so far. I asked for a suite that would require the least amount of walking for the grandparents. This put a only 1.5 miles from the lobby. Or so it felt when trying to be slow enough for the walker.
The suite is complete with a log cabin replica and bunk beds. No don’t worry, I let my Grandpa have the top bunk.
Just kidding. He’s on the pillow-top bed and my Grandma got the pull out couch. ( it was either that or I was going to go track down a step stool to get her on bed).
Happily, the hotel has wheel chairs (no really it’s for my Grandma. And they got a nice long nap while we played in the water park all afternoon. (I kind of wanted the nap myself.)
Said relatives came to the hotel for dinner and a visit. Thanks to the water park, the kids and I promptly excused ourselves to swim (still no siesta).
I’m totally worn out from lugging tubes up the two-story water slide steps but… The kids had a great time and I think my grands did too.
Tomorrow we reload and head further north. Lunch at the birth place, relatives to visit, stomping grounds to retrace, and then home to our cozy own beds.
Half-way through the adventure and I still think someone should’ve talked me out of this endeavor. But look- aren’t they just so cute? Makes it totally worth it… I think…
And now, some shut eye…
Oh to be in your 90s and still up for an adventure. Thanks Linnea for allowing this adventure to happen.
You see, the thing about it that gets me the most is that you *want* to do things like this. Spontaneous camping trips with 6-week-old Amelia. Surprise trips to Germany with your first kid and carry-ons only. Overnights to places most people wouldn’t go without at least four days to spare. Spur-of-the-moment trips to Philly, month-long stints to the east Coast as a lone-wolf parent… you look forward to these things to about the same degree as they would make me want to rent my sackcloth and beat my chest. FASCINATING.
If I rub your pregnant tummy, will a little bit of that get transferred to me? I want to want adventure, but that switch seems to be broken.
Your grandparents are so lucky to have you.
You’re right. I do these things on purpose. I tend to do them last minute. I see the logical quick steps to make, the logical check-list, the way to make happen whatever it is I decide to do. But it’s only after the fact that I think of the what ifs or details that might have talked me out of such undertakings.
To be sure, I thrive in these semi- harried situations…but there are moments when I stop, take a mental snapshot, and wonder what the hell I was thinking.
These things tend to work out, so I don’t really plan to change my midis operandi anytime soon.
Speaking of which, did you day you wanted visitors with a little baby and five carry-ons next summer?
(as are we all)
I can only imagine the “adventure” you had! But oh, the memories you created! And the memories your grandpa was able to recall. Precious times! I admire your courage, Linnea.