Family, Family, Everywhere

"Shall we buy a very large farmhouse, where three generations of our family can live together?", I asked Michele, as we finished a family-filled weekend, and were driving back home after dropping our daughter and her two children off to another relative for a few days. They had spent the weekend with us.

"I don't think so," she said, tiredly.

It had been a very bonding weekend, with weird weather (rain and fierce wind and balmy temperatures after 50" of snow-to-date).

There was the power outage from dark, dark 4:00 AM to still dark, dark 6:30 AM, when starting the generator in gale-force winds was unattractive, and we reverted to candles, and were thankful for the mild temps.

There were the periods of waiting, waiting, waiting, while everyone got organized for something or other.

There were the chuckles a clowning one year old causes, and since she is past puking, I was happy to hold her, though she is such a leadbutt the small of my back is sore (I don't know how our petite daughter does it. She is clearly a strong woman.).

There was sweet-spirited Jack, the five year old, being surprisingly patient with all the waiting, and being entirely receptive when I suggested distractions as his patience was stretched a bit too far. I introduced him to his first trot on a treadmill. I made the mistake of asking him if he wanted to take a bath with me, as he had a few years ago (this was a moment of desperation, when I sensed him descending into a sour stage of fatigued revolt). He accepted my invitation, and it was a learning experience for both of us.

 There was the midday confluence caused by Alex, our son, bringing his wife and three daughters over. Now we had two babies, one happy and one not, and three older kids that squealed, slammed doors, chased each other and kept the adults and dogs alert.

"What do you want to do for supper?", Michele asked, staring a bit through the car's windscreen as we returned from passing our daughter and her kids to another family member.

"Jimmy John's," I answered.

"What about grinders from Mama's?"

"That must sound better to you," I observed, "or you wouldn't have mentioned it. Grinders it is, with a Greek salad on the side."

Michele's eyes were drooping, and she didn't respond.

Interacting with family craziness is marvelous, important and layered with happy stress. Getting back to normal afterwards is as welcome as your own pillow in your own bed in your own quiet house.

Sleep fast people. A new, goofy week starts tomorrow.