Grammy and Grandpa, August 13, 2012

We make frequent trips to Orlando to pick visiting friends and family up at the airport, but I think this was the first one Devon really understood.  It's hard to explain long distance living to a toddler.  One day people come, later on they go.  It doesn't make any sense to someone who has yet to comprehend how very big the world is and how sometimes we have to live apart from those we love.

"Tomorrow we are going to the airport to pick up Grammy and Grandpa!" I said to him the night before.

"Talk A-Grammy?" Devon said, pointing to my iPhone.

"Grammy and Grandpa are coming to our house, Devon!"  He paused to think on this a moment, and the flush of recognition slowly spread across his face.  Perhaps he was thinking of Christmas, the last time we were all together.

"To o-UR  ho-USE!" he shouted, turning up the ends of every word like question marks in his excitement.  He ran a few energetic circles around, stopping to show me the guest bedroom where they would be sleeping, the basketball hoop where they would throw balls for him, and the stroller they would use to take him "swimming in the cool".

 We waited in the cell phone lot for an hour, long enough for a late afternoon Florida downpour to subside and lightning to move far enough away for the luggage to be safely unloaded.  The interior of our roomy van was starting to feel a bit cramped, with me hopping over the seats from middle to back to front again because I didn't want to open the door and get wet.  Bottles of water I brought for the travelers were emptied into sippies so the kids had something to do while they waited.

Devon kicked his legs in excitement as he saw Grammy and Grandpa swing their suitcases into the back of the van and climb into the car next to him.  There weren't many quiet minutes to contemplate the joy of finally being together.  In the Cracker Barrel on Semorran Drive they plunged headlong into the three toddler lifestyle, moving plates away from grabby fingers and spooning soft mashed carrots into hungry mouths.

Just like that, life got a little easier.  We're used to two adults and three children in our house, or what is commonly called "zone defense."  Normal means being outnumbered.  When the count shifts to four adults and three children, it shows.

Grammy sits by Devon as he eats his "cheevies and yorgitt", making sure he takes little bites and doesn't slop on the floor.

There are extra hands to push the strollers, so Mommy and Daddy hold hands on their nightly walk.

Grammy and Grandpa open their suitcases and lots of new things appear.  Devon, usually averse to anything touching his head, suddenly won't leave the house without his new Cars cap.

It helps that Grandpa always wears his cap, too.

When Devon grabs a comb and tries to comb his hair, Grandpa shows him how you have to remove your hat first.

Devon gets Big Boy Underwear!  The adults sit around in a semicircle as Devon sits on Froggy Potty, staring at him like the goose that lays the golden eggs.

The girls get new outfits!  Twins are just so much fun to dress.

Thanks to the new Bubble Puppy, Mommy can press a button and make bubbles while holding a girl with the other hand.

Melina isn't sure what to make of her first bubble time.

She soon decides she likes it.

Carrie and Melina get wonderful handmade blankets from a dear friend.  Before I graduated from college, started work, bought a house, and had three children, I really enjoyed quilting.  It means a lot to me when other people handmake things for my kids to enjoy now that I don't feel I can spare the time.

Grammy gets the kids hooked on 50's dance music on Pandora.

When the girls get sick, she holds them.

Grandpa puts together the girls' new wagon on their birthday.  It takes an hour and a half and two calls to the Radio Flyer hotline.

When he's not doing something with the kids, Grandpa is behind the video camera.  Devon climbs up into his lap and begs to watch the footage he's just captured.

That explains why Mommy's such a whiz with her camera phone.  Yep, it's all genetic.

We enjoy our favorite evening walk at the Jaycee beach boardwalk.

We watch some parasurfers and marvel again about actually living in a beach town.

It's so nice to have extra hands to hold the camera and take a picture.  So many times I am enjoying a perfect moment with my family and wish I had a spare hand to take a photo.

Or twelve.

Two weeks go very quickly in a house with three toddlers.  We go out to eat a few times on our last weekend together, remarking on how the kids have grown even in such a short time.

We talk, laugh, and enjoy our time together, even as the shared meal starts to feel a bit like The Last Supper.  Grammy and Grandpa have to go home.

The reality hit Devon hard this time.  We loaded the much thinner suitcases in the van and drove them to the airport.  Devon's usual bouncing good humor was periodically interrupted by pensive moments I rarely see in a toddler.  Devon watched as we unloaded at the Southwest gate and kissed goodbye, removing his shoes and pushing his hands into them.

As we pulled away from the curb, Devon's suspicions were confirmed.  "Grandpa!  Grandpa!" he called, clapping the shoes on his hands together and starting to cry.  I watch in the rear view mirror as my son, now just old enough to understand, discovers loss for the very first time.

He didn't wake up the next morning asking "Where did the Grammy go?  I don't know where the Grammy is!" like he usually does.  He gets it now.  We can't always be together.

It isn't any easier on the adults, none of whom are strangers to living apart from family. Years ago it was my mom looking forward to visits from my Grandma Meth.  She was the one being picked up from the airport bearing gifts, wisdom, and a pair of extra hands.  The two little girls in the picture were myself and my cousin Naomi.

We enjoy our times together, saving up pictures and memories to get us through long months apart.