Don't Make Me Go Over That Mountain

The countdown began last Thursday - only four more days until I was to pick up my granddaughter, Mackenzie and travel to Morgantown, West Virginia to meet my daughter, Beth and grandson, Kyle for an overnight stay. Mackenzie's mom and dad graciously granted their approval for her to take the trip, so I would have the only child from both my son and daughter together.

The last two years, since my move from Ohio to Maryland, I have made the trip to West Virginia to meet my daughter half way to pick up my grandson, Kyle for the Christmas holidays. Of course, I don't get first choice of the days I get to see Kyle because I get in the queue for the days my daughter wants to celebrate the family holiday, and then I come behind the x-husband and then the local mother-in-law and local ex mother-in-law. So, you can see, anticipation and patience are like a wild tossed salad for me as the holidays roll around.

In order for Beth and me to rendezvous in a location halfway between our two points or origination, we have to cross mountain - mountains that pile high with snow and deep with fog on many occasions. So, we opted to stay over at a hotel and stage a family slumber party rather than both of us getting back in the car and tackling the ride back all in one day.

We both looked forward to the stay over, so I went to great lengths (I do most everything at great lengths) to locate a hotel in the area with an indoor pool. An added plus in my selection was that the hotel was also right on the water with two wonderful wharf restaurants within walking distance.

So, we meet in the lobby, hugging, filled with holiday joy. Beth and I are loaded down with Christmas presents and each have a small miniature like adult wrapped closely around our waist and ankles. While it is really quite difficult to walk in this manner, we neither one wish to unglue the child as it is a wonderfully delightful form of endearment.

We go up to our room and quickly fill all available space with our one night stay over paraphernalia - game boy's, puzzles, snacks, radios, overnight bags, Christmas gifts,
"floaties" for the not quite ready to swim child, coats, hats and gloves. Shoes are tossed in spare corners and the territorial battle begins for the beds. I serve as the referee and my daughter graciously acknowledges that she "can sleep anywhere." Hmmm, I am not sure the right young woman has gotten into the elevator and followed me to my room. I remember a daughter who could not go to a picnic for fear a fly would find her baked beans, who opted to go without a coat if she forgot hers rather than to wear someone else's, who packs her purse to overflowing for fear she will overlook "something" she needs - but, she is a mother now, so maybe she is going with the ebb and flow.

I, on the other hand, must be in the bed by the door as all grandmothers protect their young from what could be night warriors trying to enter the sanctioned room.

The evening wears on. We take the hotel shuttle to a nearby restaurant on the wharf and feast on great pasta and pizza. (I forgot to mention that Beth and Kyle left their winter coats in their car which has been nicely tucked away three blocks from the hotel by the hotel valet service.) The children are delightful with manners worthy of our pride. Back to the hotel for an early evening swim and to our room for a bit of TV and movies.

Here is where things get interesting. The tap tap tap of the keys on the Game boy begin. The click click click of the TV remote is serving as a backdrop to all other noises surfacing. Now enters, the cry of "I am really hungry." We are safe on the cry for food as we still have snacks left over and the drink machine in the hallway provides a nice assortment of soft drinks and juices. The tap tap tap and the click click click take a bit more work, but we are trying our best to be kind and in the spirit of Christmas.

Did I say we? I meant "I" as my daughter thinks nothing of the noisy interruptions - it appears she has become quite accustomed to them. But, I am not. I am a grandmother who does "things" with their grandchildren. We entertain and share and cajole and hug and kiss. And, we don't tolerate small nuisances well after about four (4) hours. In fact, I am fairly sure that I recently read a report that said grandparents begin to wear down with surface noise after 3.1 hours.

My granddaughter then moves into the phase of realizing she misses her parents and a small crying noise erupts from my end of the room. The tap tap tap and click click click somewhat surround the crying and raises the decibels of noise up a notch. I comfort my granddaughter, remembering that I just shared with you that grandmothers hug and kiss and cajole. She settled down, but was beginning to tire of the long day and was ready for bed.

The challenge lies here. My daughter and grandson had been staying up into the wee hours of the morning over the holidays and were just beginning to get their second wind!

The granddaughter and I covered our heads with the blankets and tried to go to sleep with my daughter turning the TV down. It worked for awhile, but nothing is good for ever, so after about 40 minutes, she and Kyle agreed to try to go to sleep.

I wish I had a camera so I could show the pictures of what followed, but you are just going to have to use your imagination. A rather large lump appeared under the covers in Beth and Kyle's bed. The light from the hotel window shined on the lump in such a way that I was sure that the Loch Ness Monster was in the room. Making this all more interesting was the fact that my grandson had a flashlight under the blanket trying to finish his electronic game. So, the tap tap tap of the keys was continuing while a wildly gyrating light was moving about.

Let's pause for a moment and reflect on me for a moment. Before I turned forty years old, I had a great deal of patience. I have recently misplaced my patience, so I began to sigh somewhat heavily - all the while tossing the blankets on our bed around. The dance of "no sleep" was at play. My daughter was doing the same thing on her side of the room. Our similarities as mother and daughter were strikingly on track this evening.

I asked my grandson to "turn that darn light off and go to bed." My granddaughter's upper lip was still trembling slightly so she jostled a bit when she heard my voice rise. The slumber party was turning south in family spirit.

The saga continued for about twenty more minutes and I then said (I do believe, however that I spoke the following words gently.) "Kyle, it really is time to turn that electronic gadget off and put the flashlight away and get to sleep." "You are way too young to be playing the night away and we are trying to sleep."

Then I added a statement that sounded uniquely like the President of General Motors, very full of himself and certainly very out of character for me. "Don't make me get out of this bed in the middle of the night and go over that mountain."

Up rises the Daughter of the President of General Motors from the middle of the adjoining bed with the following retort. "No Mother, Don't make me get up out of this bed and drive over that mountain in the middle of the night."

I rise from under my pile of covers, hair askew, and lipstick slightly worn to a tint in the night light from the windows and said. "Hmmm, for once this evening, we seem to be exactly in sync." here goes that Mother-Daughter kinetics again. Well, it is a family slumber party and she is my daughter. Lights out. Night Night.