My son has, for the first time, gone to spend a week with ny parents in the mountains. Well, not a full week, five days, but it’s a good long time when you’re only eight-years-old. He has vacillated back and forth between being excited about going and adamant he was not about to leave here during his summer vacation to go anywhere, let along Mimi and Gramp’s where he was sure to have a good time.
My mother prepared for the trip by collecting all sorts of things they could do in leaflet form and printing out other items, putting it together in a large envelope and mailing it to my son. He got the package and then got on the phone with Mimi to discuss which things he most wanted to do.
This morning my son and husband headed off in the car for the three-and-a-half hour trip to where my parents live in the mountains. My son was upbeat and my husband was ready to address some technical issues they’d been having that are just his sort of specialty at fixing.
They arrived late lunch and had Mimi’s vegetable soup before my husband started in on their punch list of electronic and computer-based work items. My husband headed out late afternoon and has just arrived home as I started writing this post.
My mother and I have been texting back and forth, making sure we had everything covered, such as what time is bedtime and don’t forget to ensure he actually brushes his teeth because he’s started trying to get away with things lately that he doesn’t prefer doing.
Tomorrow they’re going zip lining. My mother has a week’s worth of activities packed into the four days he’ll be there before they drive halfway back, meeting in the middle to hand him off. I think he’s going to have a good time. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it when he gets home.
The Big Boy Update: My son loves listening to the Movie Music station in the car. Today on the way to the mountains the theme for Edward Scissorhands came on. He read the title and asked his father what the movie was about. After my husband explained, my son said, “I bet Edward Scissorhands always does scissors when he plays Rock, Paper, Scissors.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I was playing the daily videos from Sammy, our dog trainer to my daughter this evening. Sammy describes what’s happening because she knows my daughter can’t see the videos. The dogs were at the edge of the water at a local lake. The terrain was tricky with rocks and a steep edge of dirt and rock wall about where the trees were. Sammy described what the dogs were doing, saying they were going to try and get up onto the cliff as her dog, Abe, loves to play King of the Mountain. My daughter got suddenly upset sating, “What!? A cliff?” I had to explain, using objects around us, what Sammy meant when she said “cliff” wasn’t an actual cliff you could fall off of. My daughter, after understanding the dogs hadn’t been in danger, said, “okay, because I was about to tell Sammy she could never take care of Matisse again."
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