ROAD TRIP! Road Trip. road tri...

Adventure comes in many forms and exhaustion is almost always the price. Ours began two weeks ago, bodies packed tight in our mini-van and headed for Provo, then Vegas, then Burbank and back.


We began rested and eager, our two year old leading the chant road tip! road tip! road tip! We stopped for an hour in Fruita and let them run, enjoying the night air, and our little ones, in no particular hurry--our goal to enjoy the journey. The kids were asleep (and grumpy to be awakened) once we arrived at Syl's and invaded her 2 bedroom condo with five extra bodies. Atticus insisted on falling asleep on top of me (after much wiggling) and then being carefully transferred to his pack and play. Zola and Abe were eager to prolong sleep in favor of seeing their, much beloved, older cousin Tommy--but we managed to wrap them in their sleeping bags and lull them to sleep with promises of tommorow. We spent two days wandering in Provo Canyon, taking walks along the river and catching up with family. We ate pizza and spent an evening on the couches in Von's living room. All my sisters came Jean brought me cookies and Mel teased me about something I'd rather not mention. Syl took care of me, when she's the one who could use a break. It was a relief to be together, to be with people who know, love and understand me. It was the first time in a long time that Denver felt very far away. I miss my sisters.


As an added bonus we caught up with some of our favorite non-related people, the Aanderuds who fed us M&M's and Twizzler's (just like old times) and took us to Veteran's, the community pool turned water park. I remembered the pool as enormous, from my swim lesson days, but it wasn't at all. It's strange to have passed all those years with the image of a pristine, gigantic blue rectangle, a few teenagers sun bathing around it's perimeter full of deep, endless, ice-cold water. I imagined riding on the backs of dolphins and killer whales. It was my ocean without waves. Now it's a busy puddle. I think I prefer the child version. I will keep it.


On to Vegas after a harrowing night of being kicked and mauled. Atticus took residence in our borrowed bed leaving Jon and I with less sleep, energy and patience. However, In-and-Out arrived in St. George, which did much to lift our spirits and the drive to Vegas was shorter than we thought until we realized we didn't have the right address for Mike and Jen. Mike is one of Jon's very best friends. They've know each other since they were eight years old and Mike hung up on Jon when he called to suggest they get together and play. It was a rocky start, but, much like our visit in Vegas, proved a reliable oasis. Jen fed us and put us in our own Casita. We spent countless hours in their amazing pool and enjoyed the company of two people who know how to relax and go with the flow, not to mention the free teeth cleaning for my kids. We were sad to leave (not realizing we would see them again in one weeks time.)


Burbank California, filled with brown hills and conservative relatives was our next stop. We arrived at Grandma and Grandpa's, the kids reeling with excitement--grandparents, cousins, beach--it was too much. Eighteen people in a 4 bedroom ranch is too much. We shoved food into our children's mouths as they ran by wildly and we didn't put them to bed until their heads began to spin and we were afraid they might self destruct. We laid awake more than slept, but it was good to catch up (a minute here or there, amidst the general chaos). We spent a lovely, windy and chilly day, at the beach where Abe napped, Zola hunted for sand crabs and Atticus would not stay out of the water, despite near constant shivering. It was good, except Atti caught cold.


Abe got his first play gun from Auntie Karen, which to my chagrin, he thourouly enjoyed. I tried to walk away when I caught wind of the many convrsations about the virtue of guns, the evils of welfare, and high taxes--all of which were blamed on Obama. There was no acknowledgement that the problems we face now were created by the past 8 years of lowering taxes and the immoral focus on emacing more and more material wealth. Walking away is a technique that I've taught my kids--if someone is bothering you, you can just walk away. In most cases it's magical, unfortunately there wasn't anywhere to walk to. I was surrounded by these people I have great feelings of affection for, except when they open their mouths about anything political. And my tolerance was very low because I hadn't really slept in several nights. That part was particularly exhausting and I was disappointed in my inablitly to let go of my own political prejudice. I think I managed to get through the weekend without making an unkind comment, but my head was full of arguments about having a little compassion and looking at the facts--not according to FOX news. Grandma Zola made a comment about David, a new member of the Warner clan, feeling like they were just like him. I've had a decidedly different experience, but, in addition to the frustration I've experienced, I have also learned to appreciate and learn from those differences. What I've learned is that the group all together in a small space is difficult for me, but the individuals that make up the group are really fabulous. There were a couple of nights when we sat and talked, once with Brad and Hillary, and once with Kent and Zola. I like those. When it's quiet and you get to hear about peoples lives. There is always a funny story about one of the kids and Zola (grandma) will start laughing until tears come from the corners of her eyes. They are Jon's eye's forty years from now, and I love them.

After everyone left we spent the next couple of days in grandma and grandpa's backyard and had a frogging adventure up a local canyon. We captured two pacific tree frogs--hippity hoppy and hoppsofar (or something like that). According to little Zo, one was a girl and one was a boy. Evidently, she knows how to tell. Grandma had the perfect container, an old jelly bean jar, and some screen so we made them a home. I give her a hard time about saving everything, but you never know when you'll need to construct a home for a couple of frogs. I was grateful for her stash. We were excited to take them home to Colorado until we found out we'd inadvertantly broken the law. ooops. We released them later that evening.

By Wednesday Atticus was runny and cranky, Zo and Abe were fighting and we were on the road back the oasis in the dessert where we swam, put the poopers to bed and fondued for the next several hours. In the morning we swam again and, reluctantly, piled back into the car. Next time I need a vacation I'm going back to the Nelsons. At this point I was tempted to torture the poor children and drive straight through--13 hours, at least, to be home in my King Sized--extra firm bed, limbs stretched as wide as creation with little chance of touching anyone. We drove to Provo instead.


Syl and Tom were waiting with food. My sweet big sister and her boy. Tom is one of the most pleasant 12 year olds I've encountered. He played with my kids, was incredibly patient, helped clean up--I remember him as a happy baby, big, soft, smiley and open. Miraculously, he is still all of those things. His little cousins insisted he come out on the balcony to wave goodbye as we left on Friday. He happily agreed and they waved and waved.


The drive home was long. When we arrived Atticus only cried for a couple of minutes before snuggling into his familiar crib. Abe, visibly relieved, smiled sleepily and crawled into the bottom bunk. Zola grinned, wide awake, and was out in seconds. Jon and I sat on the couch and took several deep breaths. The dogs laid by our feet thumping their tails. We didn't unpack.


When we went to bed I laid down, closed my eyes and saw the ocean, feeling the waves, watching the water meet the expansive blue sky, then red and white desserts, their earth vibrating with heat, and the endless blue sky, then countless green valleys with soft wind blown grasses and the enourmous blue sky, then canyons, winding and cut by the wide roaring river, covered in pine and aspen and the eternal blue sky.