Remembering Grandma

It was a good thing that I decided to make the trip back to Iowa for Grandma’s funeral kid-free, as right out the shoots my flight was delayed in Asheville for three hours, causing me to miss my initial connection in Atlanta. Luckily I was proactive when first learning of my delay, and I booked myself on the last Atlanta-to-Omaha flight of the night. Otherwise I would have been spending the night in Hot-lanta for the second time in as many plane rides I’ve made in the past two years.

But none of this was that big of a deal, as I was able to belly up to the bar in the Asheville airport for a much needed beer, and had already planned on renting a car in Omaha to drive the two hours to the farm. And when I landed in Nebraska at 10.30 Wednesday evening, all it took were three seconds outside in the freezing Midwestern air to wake me up enough to start my journey home.

This was the first time I had ever rented a car by myself, and I was pretty proud of how well I navigated through the terminal, picked out my Jetta and got my GPS set. However. I’ve been spoiled with all my automatic features in the Caddy, and it wasn’t until I had driven halfway through downtown Omaha that I realized the reason I couldn’t see how fast I was going was because I hadn’t turned my lights on. Whoops! So that was why all those other cars kept changing lanes to avoid me. Just when I was starting to feel good about my independence.

So I refreshed with a giant cup of McDonald’s coffee in Missouri Valley and proceeded to drive the next hour and half on two-lane roads through about eight small Midwestern towns, recognizing their names as I considerately slowed down to 35 and dimmed my brights through each one of them. I finally made the turn onto my parents gravel road at 12.30, and was face down in my pillow by 12.40. What a day!

The next day I woke up to find both my Dad and Mom having gone to work to tie up loose ends for the remainder of the week, and Libba and my sweet, sweet baby niece were able to catch up and mentally prepare for the next few days.

Up to that point, I was more focused on getting back to Iowa than the reason I was there. And now it was time to start grieving Grandma. 

This picture was taken the last time I had seen Grandma. It was nearly a year and a half ago that I brought a three year old Taylor and a four month old Luke back to the farm for a week. We brought my baby boy up to meet his great-Grandma at the nursing home one afternoon, and even though the Alzheimer’s had stripped her recognition of me, she was more than happy to hold Luke. Because he was a baby. And Grandma loved babies.

Will and Devon arrived from Fort Collins that evening, and it was the first time my parents had all three of their kids together at the farm since Taylor was seven months old. So while circumstances weren’t ideal, it was pretty special for us all to be there. And I’m certain Grandma was watching us from heaven with a big smile on her face.

And we weren’t the only grandkids to make the trips in to help bury and celebrate Grandma, as all but four of my numerous cousins made the journey to Iowa from all corners of the country. I was able to hug and catch-up with family members that I hadn’t seen in 10+ years, and we all had fun sharing our memories of what an amazing Grandma we were all blessed to call our own.

And because Grandma truly was such a wonderful woman, it was agreed that someone should speak for the family at the funeral. And since I was kid-free and able to gather my thoughts so well, I volunteered. I was honored to be able to share my stories with the gathering of people that all loved Grandma, and I know I got most of the congregation to laugh at least once during my speech. Which was so appropriate, as Grandma was always the first to laugh at herself. Nothing was ever too serious with Grandma.

Here is the speech that I wrote, and even though I strayed from bits and elaborated on others, I just wanted to share what was written:

I'd first like to thank all of you for being here to help our family in celebrating and remembering what an amazing woman my Grandma was. She was the best Grandma a kid could have. And since hearing the news of her passing earlier this week, and in my traveling back to the farm and being surrounded with my family, my mind has been overwhelmed with all the wonderful memories I have of this remarkable woman.

While we were growing up, Grandma and Grandpa's house was always our second home. Their door was always open, and all the grandchildren knew we could always find a frozen Snicker's bar in the freezer if we wanted something sweet. But all Grandma would have to hear were the words, I'm hungry!, and POOF! there was a hot, delicious four-course meal ready for you. Your jeans were always a little tighter when you left Grandma’s house. 

She was an amazing cook. Every Sunday we would gather with our Demers family at Grandma's house and feast on meals that most families saved for holidays and special occasions. We would assemble around the two separate tables, one for cousins and one for the grownups, and stuff ourselves silly, yet always saving room for one of Grandma's famous from-scratch cream puffs with homemade chocolate sauce for dessert.

Being able to spend the night at Grandma's house as a child was like going on vacation. My sister, Libba, and I would cover our faces in Grandma's makeup and try on all her jewelry, then get clean in her jetted bath tub, munch on Grandpa's homemade caramel corn and then fall asleep, only to wake up to our choice of one of the many marshmallow-filled breakfast cereals she kept in her lazy susan. I will always think of Grandma when I see a box of Lucky Charms. 

We would help her clean out Dicky bird's cage, play pool or ping pong in her basement and sometimes she would gather her grandkids around her kitchen table and teach us how to play cards. And for as kind and sweet and loving as Grandma was, she was pretty ruthless when it came to playing cards. Grandma ALWAYS won at cards.

And when thinking about all my wonderful memories of Grandma, there of course are some pretty funny ones as well. When I was in grade school, Grandma joined me in class one morning for Grandparents Day, where we were able to work on our assignments together. That morning we happened to be working on solving some math problems, and collectively Grandma and I scored the worst in my class, which totally stressed out my teacher as she had designed the assignment in that everyone would get a perfect score. And when Mrs Stevenson regretfully told the two of us how awful we did, Grandma just laughed and waved her hands in the air, as if saying, It's just MATH. It's not that important. Let's sit down and play some cards. I bet we'd win that assignment.

Something else that was an open joke with Grandma were her driving skills. Or lack thereof. I always remember being securely buckled in as children when taking trips to Storm Lake, and then being offered the wheel once we were old enough to drive with our permits. But, as Grandma said, None of her bad driving episodes were ever really her fault. It's just that all of her cars were jinxed. Best. Excuse. Ever. 

So she was fun. And she just loved every one of us to bits. And since moving to North Carolina ten years ago, my visits with Grandma came less and less frequent. The last time I was home before this was nearly a year and a half ago, and we brought my daughter and newborn son up to see her at BV Manor. And even though she was so changed from the Grandma I grew up with, I saw that familiar smile and recognition in her as I helped her hold her then-newest great grandchild. And I will always hold that in my heart as my last time seeing her, just like I will always have all of my special memories of growing up with such a wonderful woman. We love you, Grandma!

The funeral went smoothly and was a wonderful tribute to a fabulous woman. Grandma was very loved, and there were many people who wanted to help share in remembering her.

But a major snag in the day was that my sister had woken up that morning running a fever and feeling sick. As soon as I saw her face and heard her symptoms, I just knew she had the flu virus that I had suffered through before Christmas. And because she had teeny tiny Parker with her and had been breathing all over her sweet babe, it was decided that they both needed to see a doctor to evaluate if Tamiflu was necessary. And being that we were in rural Iowa and the closest Urgent Care was an hour away, I drove them up to Storm Lake for a visit to the Emergency Room directly after leaving the funeral.

Poor Libba! She had flown up to the farm to be there for the funeral and had to miss it in order to stay quarantined. I knew exactly how awful she was feeling from the sickness, but I knew she was more upset about not being able to say Goodbye to Grandma. So terrible. But, thank goodness, little Sweet P didn’t get sick, and my Mom and I were able to help take care of the baby while Lib got some rest.

My flights home were very early and uneventful. I had never been so happy to see Chris and the kids as I was when I walked through the concourse in Asheville. It was an emotional, exhausting week, yet one filled with lots of love and laughing and stories about my amazing Grandma. I will miss her terribly, 

Taylor becomes a bona fide farmgirl. Our adventure to Iowa, Part 6

Chris and I moved to Asheville over eight years ago, yet when people ask me where I’m from I boastfully say, Iowa! See that Tiger Hawk license plate on my car? I represent. But as much as I like to deny it, I am raising a southern belle. Taylor was born here, and this is her home. And including the fact that, until recently, she refused to wear anything but dresses, my little Princess can be quite the priss-pot. So I was interested to see how Miss Girly would handle ten days on the farm.

But after catching fish and mooing at cows, Taylor continued to get down and dirty, whether it be soaking herself, and her Yaya, with the hose in the front yard:

Jumping off the dock into Taylor Lake:

Riding in the back of a pickup truck:

Or climbing to the top of the sand pile:

But don’t worry, folks. Even though she took on the rough-and-tumble persona, she was still all princess at heart. Check out the awesome Toddlers and Tiaras inspired pose my sister taught her:

Thanks a lot, Lib. Don’t worry, I shall remember these fabulous quirks you taught my kids when you and Dirk bring your own impressionable beings into the world. Yep. If anyone ever asks why whenever they try to take a picture of Taylor, she strikes a pose and says, Fabulous!, I’m gonna totally blame her Aunt Beeba.

Spending time with Beeba. Our adventure to Iowa, Part 5

Even though my sister only lives five-hours-and-change from me and we get to see each other more often then we do other immediate members of our family, there was something truly special about being able to spend time with her at the place where we were both raised. And even more awesome than that was being able to watch her share some marvelous moments with my kids.

They really do love their Beeba. And so do I.

Our nonstop midwest playdate. Our adventure to Iowa, Part 4

Since our trip back to the farm was for ten days, it allowed me enough time to see and spend quality time with members of my extended family and many hometown friends. And because Taylor is quite the three year old socialite, she was more than happy to show off her Yaya and Papa’s digs to everyone that visited us. And so was I.

And the very first visitor we had was my college roommate, Emily. Funny that Em and I only lived together for one of the five years I was at Iowa, but she will always remain the only person, other than my husband, that I successfully cohabitated with. She’s my soul-sister, and the fact that she and her husband moved to Lake View from Colorado a year ago makes me extremely happy that I can see her whenever I get back to the farm.

And our very next visitors were my Aunt Sandy, Uncle Scott, cousin Angie and cousin Erica and her two super loveable kiddos, Cole and Ava. And while T is always excited to spend time with her Auntie Em, having some pint-sized cousin-buddies at the farm was a true treat. She showed them Taylor Lake and they patrolled the farm, looking for frogs, mooing at cows and acting thicker than thieves.

Our following playdate was with none other than the infamous Stella Doxtad, daughter of my brother-from-another-mother (and father) James and his lovely bride, Emily. They were kind enough to lend us all the baby gear we needed for the trip, and I was so happy to see their smiley faces for a morning playfest while we were back. Miss Stella was super pumped to see “the baby”, which could only be referring to my little big man, who is equal in size to this sweet toddler. But she still insisted on “holding” Luke, and then was very excited to show Taylor her new, fancy swingset.

On Thursday my sister, Libba, flew in and we took a trip up to Storm Lake to have a park playdate with our fellow blogger and fellow Pirate and Hawkeye, Billi, and her two girls. What’s wonderful about this thing we call the blogosphere is that even if you don’t see a certain hometown friend for, like, nine years, you can still feel like you practically know her, not to mention her fun-loving girls. We adults had a blast catching up and rubbing Billi’s pregnant belly. TOO much fun, actually, as while we were busy gabbing all three of our little misses decided to soak themselves in the lake. Whoops!

Friday morning, Libba, my Mom, my Dad and the kids and I took a trip back up to Storm Lake to run errands and get in-and-out of the car a million times like circus clowns. And the most important of those stops was to see my Grandma, who has been living at BV Manor and fighting Alzheimer's, and introduce her to her newest great-grandchild, Luke. And while it’s always tough to see a loved one in such a deteriorated state, seeing the smile on her face as she held my son made my heart ache. It was a moment.

And our final big playdate of the trip was the soiree that Lib and I hosted at the farm for some of our fellow bloggers. For the past three years, I have been documenting my and my family’s life experiences on this site, as well as following other hometown friends adventures as they navigate through motherhood. We are a tight-knit group. And I couldn’t be more happy about it.

And the blogger-babies seemed pretty happy about getting to know each other as well.

And I must give an obvious shout-out to a special blogger that is overly near-and-dear to me, and that is my high school bestie, Steph. And she made a special trip up from Kansas City with her kids to join us for the fun. And it made my trip all that more special.

So there you have it. Lots of playtime during this trip, and I feel so happy and blessed to have all these fabulous people in my life. And I wish we could play together more then once or twice a year, but I will always cherish all the memories that we snapped together this trip.

Luke cuts teeth. Our adventure to Iowa, Part 3

The Monday after we got to the farm, my Mom took the day off of work and we took the kids up to Storm Lake to visit my Grandma, run a few errands and have lunch. And as I was standing in the toy department of one of the stores, trying to reason with my Mom in that Taylor didn’t need ANOTHER Princess doll, Luke started fussing in the Bjorn and I patted myself down and realized I hadn’t brought any pacifiers in with us. So I just stuck my thumb into his mouth for him to suck on and felt something sharp. Something NOT just newborn baby gums sinking into me. Um. WHA?!

And because he was facing away from me and I couldn’t see into his mouth, I stopped trying to block Taylor’s Princess prize and asked my Mom, Hey, look in Luke’s mouth. Are there teeth in there? And she did a little face-to-face investigating and chirped back, YES! He has TWO teeth! And instead of being all, Yea! My son cut his first tooth! I was all, Seriously? SERIOUSLY! Luke! You’ve got to be kidding me! And then I stomped off to the baby aisle to load up on numbing meds.

And here’s why I wasn’t super thrilled about his teeth coming in. Well, two reasons really. One, Taylor’s teething process was an absolute nightmare. She was constantly fussing and crying and irritable. Her nose would run, her diapers would be awful and I would lay down each night with twinges of guilt for double-dosing her with Tylenol just to get a good night’s sleep. And reason number Two that I was slightly annoyed was because my little man was already an aggressive eater as it was. Adding sharpness to it didn’t sound like a lot of fun for me and my body.

And when I called Chris to inform him that his son was one step closer to sharing a steak with him, he gushed and said, Wow. He’s WAY tougher than Taylor was when she was teething! She cried for a whole month leading up to her first tooth. And he was right! Taylor was so fussy while she was prepping those pearly whites to pop, that it was almost more painful waiting for them then when she actually got the teeth. I think I was dosing myself with painkillers as much as she was.

But Luke hadn’t been fussy or at all out-of-sorts in the days before I found those two little prickers. In fact, I had just flown across the country with him strapped to my chest, and he had made zero fuss and had been overall easy throughout our entire journey. And then he just wakes up one morning with teeth. I am starting to feel better and better about our second go-round with teething. Hopefully he makes potty training a much better experience too.

Taylor finds Nemo. Our adventure to Iowa, Part 2

Immediately after pulling up the lane to the farm and giving my Dad a big bear hug, Taylor started poking around my parent’s house trying to find new trinkets and treasures that would be occupying her time while we were there. And just like a mouse to cheese, she spied and gravitated right towards a hot pink Barbie fishing pole that her Papa had bought especially for her and stored right in the entryway. And even though she had never fished before, she snatched it up and held onto to it for the next few hours and said, When we gonna go fishing?

So the next morning we woke up to soggy, dreary weather, which delayed our fishing excursion until the afternoon. But even though we couldn’t get outside and to Taylor Lake to drop a few bobbers, the Princess and her Papa practiced her cast and reel inside the house, as at the end of her Barbie pole was attached a sparkly, rubbery fish. And Taylor would grab the fake fish and run and drop it in one of the rooms in the downstairs, skip back to my Dad anchored in his armchair and together they would reel in their catch to the center of the family room, all while my Dad would scream, Here it comes! Here it comes! Pull it in! Pull it in!

It was adorable. So I knew that when the rain finally stopped and we were able to walk down to the dock and drop in her first worm, her first catch was going to be pretty awesome. And it was.

And because my Dad stocked Taylor Lake full of Blue Gills, each time his granddaughter cast her line she got a bite within minutes. Which was smart, because a three year old’s attention spans only last about that long.

So Taylor caught and freed at least four fish before she was done with fishing for the day. And while Chris was super bummed that he missed her first catch, he was happy to watch the video and the adjoining images that I captured during the big event. And I’m sure that it won’t be the last time the Princess fishes. Especially as long as they keep making hot pink fishing poles.

Leaving. On a jet plane. Our adventure to Iowa, Part 1

So about two months ago my Mom called and asked if there was any way I could fly back to Iowa with both the kids before the summer was over. Chris was busy at work, and the only way I could get back before Fall would be to make the trip just me and the bambinos. And I clearly remember the day she asked, because it was following one of those weeks where I felt like I couldn’t even successfully transport my kids from the front door to the car without a major catastrophe. And my response to my Mom was all, Um. NO! Flying by myself with two kids across the country sounds more painful than pushing another nearly-ten pound baby out of my body. Thanks, but no thanks.

But then I had three successful days of parenting in a row, and when my Mom brought it up again, I didn’t make gagging noises or pretend like someone was stabbing me, so she gently offered a few words of encouragement and then told me, You know, Brooke. I totally flew by myself with you kids when you were six, Libba was three and Will was only four months old. If I can do it with three, you can totally do it with two. And since I’m apparently a masochist and up for a challenge, I replied, Well... OKAY! Let’s do this.

So leading up to our big plane ride, I started telling Taylor all about the fabulous trip we were going to take to her Papa and Yaya’s farm in Iowa, and how we would get to ride in an airplane to get there. And how, just as a super special treat, she would get to chew bubblegum in the plane. And, y’all, she was so excited her head almost popped off. Papa and Yaya! Farm! Airplane! GUM! There was enough anticipation surging through her three year old body that on the morning of the big trip she came running into our room squealing, Today? TODAY? Do I get to go on the plane to Yaya’s farm today?

And after Chris helped us check our bags, gave me a pep talk and watched as I navigated through airport security without any real hiccups, we preboarded the plane and I got all settled in for our first flight to Detroit. The portable-DVD player was charged and ready to play Cinderella, Luke was comfortably snoozing in the Ergo and I lined the backs of the seats in front of us with coloring books, snacks and, of course, the bubblegum Taylor had picked out at the grocery store a few days before: Strawberry Shortcake flavored Extra-brand gum.

And while hyping the whole You-can-chew-gum angle definitely helped get her excited for the flight, we really should have PRACTICED chewing it. Which I didn’t even think about – Because she swallowed eight – EIGHT! – sticks of the sugary goodness before they even shut the cabin doors. And each time she crammed a new piece in her mouth, I would lock eyes with her and say, Now, Honey, DON’T SWALLOW IT! Chew it! Like this. And I would smack my mouth open and closed so dramatically that my cheeks started to cramp. And she would chew hers too, until I would get distracted and look the other way. And then she’d look at me and say, I need another piece, Mama.

So needless to say, after we landed in Detroit, wiggled our way out of the plane, got out into the concourse and she looked at me and whined, My belly hurts, I need to go potty! I grabbed her hand and we sprinted to the nearest family bathroom, which allowed plenty of room for me to help her get onto the toilet while balancing my 20-pound infant in the carrier in front of me. And as if that wasn’t enough of a fiasco, the toilet-flushing sensors kept failing to pick up Taylor’s little body on the potty and kept automatically flushing at super-sonic force while she was trying to get rid of her bubblegum-gut rot, causing her to shriek and scream and jump off the seat with each flush. It was an absolute dumpster fire.

And once we settled that situation with a $5 Pepto tab bought at the airport newstand, found our gate and got our seat-assignment readjusted, I called my Mom and said, So I know you’re running a few errands in Omaha before you pick us up, so can you please get me a giant beer and have it waiting in the car? Because Mama needs a drink! And her response was, Do you want me to bring it into the airport so you can have it right when you get off the plane? And I was all, That might be a bit overboard. I think I’ll be able to wait until we get into the car. Maybe.

But our flight from Detroit to Omaha was actually quite lovely, in that both kids simultaneously snoozed for about an hour, allowing me to stop sweating for a bit, quietly munch some airplane pretzels and pick out my holiday wish list in the Sky Mall magazine. And then we landed, found my Mom waiting for us, got our luggage and got in the car to make our two-hour drive to the farm. And, as promised, I was able to stop and get an enormous can of Bud Light in Harlan to sip on the way back home. Yeah, who am I kidding? I drank that beer so fast. You would have been impressed.

And then we arrived at the farm. And thus began an awesome, fun-filled vacation filled with lots of quality time spent with family, friends and the place where I grew up. And I shall tell you all about it. Stay tuned.

The shortest longest roadtrip ever

With Chris switching careers in 2009, it was almost impossible for us to find any big openings of vacation time in the following year to make our annual trip back up north to visit our families. So when we landed a ten-day window of opportunity late last month, we jumped on it and planned an impromptu vacation up to my parent’s farm in Iowa and his parent’s house in Northern Wisconsin. We didn’t have a ton of time to contact the locals and set up big meetings, but we were happy to get to see some familiar faces that we hadn’t been able to look at for the past few years. So here it is, Bloggers, my official post on our ten-day, 2,630-mile roadtrip back to our homes. Get comfortable. This is going to be a long one.

So let’s just start with the drive from Asheville to the farm. Three-and-a-half humans, one chocolate lab and our Envoy packed to the brim, we left town at five in the afternoon to start our journey to Northwest Iowa. Our directions had us in the car for 18-hours, but the last time we drove home through the night, it only took 16, so for some reason I was thinking we could make it in 15. Ah, shame on me. Just those quick thoughts swirling in my head must have tempted the Universe, as we were stopped in standstill traffic three times within the first two hours of our adventure. Torture.

But, THANK GOODNESS, for the portable DVD player. For real. I don’t know how people traveled with toddlers before them. In the 18-hours, on the nose!, it took us to get to the farm, Miss Taylor only got out of her carseat twice. Once for dinner north of Knoxville, and once for breakfast in Waterloo. I couldn’t have asked for a better child in the car. To which we rewarded her with an endless supply of gummies and kids-meal toys, not to mention she got to watch Cinderella on a constant loop the entire time the car was running. She was in heaven. And I’m pretty sure if we would have turned around in Indianapolis and driven straight back home, she still would have thought it was the best trip ever.

So we drove up the lane of my childhood home midmorning on Saturday, and were overly relieved to squeeze my parents and brother, stretch our legs and brush our teeth. Back-to-back fried food meals and sleeping in the car is not the best way to lead up to a good first impression, but there we were getting to meet my brother’s girlfriend, Devon, for the first time. And, happily, she didn’t turn around and run. Even after her dog and Ruby got into a fight within the first ten minutes of our arrival. Nothing like breaking up two manic pooches to shake off an overnight, cross-country haul. If I wasn’t pregnant I would have asked for a Bloody Mary with my lunch. But instead I took a two hour nap and awoke completely recharged and ready to tackle my vacation.

And after watching a frustrating Hawkeye loss, we all headed into Holstein for dinner at Rubles. Chris was introduced to Armadillo Eggs during our trip back to Iowa in 2008, and has been detailing them to everyone he knows ever since. For those of you who haven’t been to Rubles, an Armadillo Egg is a hollowed-out jalapeno that’s stuffed with pulled-pork and cream cheese, then wrapped in bacon and smoked for a day. It’s life changing. And follow a few rounds of those with a barbeque sundae, ribs and other tasty treats, and we were set for the rest of the night. And by set, I mean in total food comas. Dunzo. Off to bed.

On Sunday morning I finally got my camera out of my suitcase, and set out to explore the farm with Chris and Taylor. Last August when I visited, my parents had just put in a new pond, which they dubbed Taylor Lake, and it was still filling in. So to see a new body of water with a dock and beach was amazing. I only wish we could have visited during warmer weather and been able to swim. Well, the dogs still swam. But we just opted to fish and enjoy the views.

The boys shooting their guns. I’m pretty sure Chris views the farm the way Taylor would view Disneyland. Endless entertainment.

Ruby the farm dog.

Oh, and Sunday was not only our first full day of vacation, but it was also our SEVENTH anniversary. Yea for us! It’s hard to believe that Chris and I have been a couple for 11 years now, but it’s also hard to imagine what my life was like before him. And it was such a treat to be able to spend our special day with family, and also be able to see one of my bridesmaid’s from the wedding, Emily, and her husband, Mike. Now that they are living in Lake View, which is just a short-drive from the farm, we were lucky to have them stop by for a few hours and a lot of laughs.

On Monday, Will and Devon headed back to Fort Collins. It was wonderful to be able to spend some time with my brother and be able to meet Devon. I am so very proud of him for so many reasons, and I hold him very close to my heart.

The rest of our last day in Iowa was spent visiting my Grandma Young, buying a crazy amount of beef sticks and skinless brats and making a brief stop to see James and Emily, and meet their precious girl, Stella. And what an absolute sweetheart! I could have just put her in my mouth, she was so cute. And Taylor loved her too... A little too much.

Tuesday morning we sadly packed up and said Goodbye to my parents and the farm. It’s never easy driving away... Especially when I have no idea when I’ll be back. And just think – The next time we get back to Iowa, we could possibly be a family of four. BAM. So all of you lovely Midwesterners that I didn’t get to see this trip, next time you see me I’ll have an infant AND be able to share a bottle of wine with you. Double the fun.

So we left Iowa and headed north through the absolute nastiest, windiest weather we had ever driven through. Correction, that Chris had ever driver through. Because with torrential rain, crosswinds of 40mph and a topper on our SUV, no way was I driving. So while Chris was battling tsunami-force winds, Taylor, Ruby and I were watching Cinderella for the billionth time in the backseat. And after white-knuckling it for eight hours, we drove into Greg and Sue’s driveway just in time to stuff ourselves full of Thanksgiving dinner.

And let’s just talk a little bit more about all the food we ate this trip. We’ve already mentioned the barbeque and fast food, now top that with turkey dinner, Halloween candy and a whole pan of Special K bars. Good stuff, people. A total calorie-fest. And even though I was on a major junk food bender, I’m still going to blame my tight pants on being 16-weeks pregnant. Let the holiday season begin!

Oh, and on Wednesday morning we woke up to SNOW. And because we left super mild temperatures in Asheville, and because everyone kept raving about how nice the weather was up north, I packed exactly one pair of jeans, one sweater and a bunch of short-sleeved shirts, tunics and leggings. So Wednesday we got to go shopping. Yay!

And before hitting the stores, we stopped at Chris’s Grandma Bernadette’s house to visit with her and all of the other relatives that were there. Bernadette’s house is the hub for all Amys activity in the area. And being that she birthed nine children, who in turn all had big families and everyone pretty much lives within 30-miles of Superior, it’s pretty much an all-out Amys party all day long at Grandma’s house.

Four generations of the Amys family.

We were also lucky enough to have our visit coincide with Chris’s Aunt Adele’s trip, who was also braving the northern temperatures while she was away from her home in Key Largo. And even though we have been fortunate to spend time with Adele’s daughter, DeAnn, and her grandkids while they visited their summer cabin in North Carolina, we hadn’t been able to see Adele since she came up for our wedding. But because Adele is a regular follower of this blog, she felt like she hadn’t skipped a beat in spending time with Miss Taylor. And our sweet T was equally as enamored with her Great Aunt.

And because we were going to be driving all day and night on Sunday and not able to take our princess trick-or-treating, and also because we still had tons and tons of family members to see while on our short trip, Greg and Sue hosted a Halloween extravaganza at their house on Friday night. Giving Taylor one more opportunity to wear her Cinderella costume and eat lots of sugar.

We had a few other princesses at the Amys costume gala, namely cousin Angel’s daughter, Brynn, who was dressed at Sleeping Beauty. And let’s just say the Princesses Aurora and Cinderella got along splendidly at the party. They were inseparable. And unbelievably adorable.

And not just the kiddos got dressed up, as most of the adults put on some disguises as well. And not just of fictional characters, they impersonated other Amys family members. Cousins Rod and Steven came as Chris’s dad and brother. Good stuff.

We even managed to get a group photo of everyone.

And the kiddos even got some trick-or-treating practice too.

Princess Taylor, enjoying the fruits of her labor.

So the party was a blast, and Saturday was spent recovering and eating left over candy. Because, honestly, by that point it was Go Big or Go Home as far as calorie consumption was concerned. Seriously. I was eating the final Special K bars for breakfast as we pulled out of the driveway on Sunday morning. And the drive back down south went as smoothly as it could, 18-hours on the nose, with us finally parking our car in our driveway at 4.30 in the morning on Monday.

And the roadtrip recap reads: 42-hours in the car through eight states during ten days. Many, many family members and friends seen. Lots of food eaten. Enormous amounts of fun had. And now, after that much time basking in the uninterrupted glow of grandparent-attention, one very spoiled little Taylor.

We are very grateful for the time we were able to spend with everyone, and hope that we won’t have to wait so long to see everyone again. But if any of you ever need a break from the winter-cold, we can surely show you a good time down here in Asheville. But I would recommend flying. Or investing in a portable DVD player.