To GrammaPapa's house we go!

Yesterday the girl and I said to heck with this nonsense - let's go to GrammaPapa's house! It was a last minute decision, fueled by leftover guilt from not visiting for First Thanksgiving and the fact that J was going to be either at the hospital, sleeping or on a plane flying across the country for the next five days. Well, that, and the fact that the mere mention of a visit to GrammaPapa's house sent E into a fit of excitement that simply would not be quelled. The added benefit of a subway ride, a train ride and a ride in her brand new car seat made it something akin to the best day ever for E, and the most exhausting day ever for her mom.

The subway ride went smoothly, once J had run back to the house to retrieve the missing suitcase. He saw us on our way and went home to sleep as our 12-hour journey began. The subsequent train ride was also a success, except for the half-hour post-nap crankfest. And the car ride was surprisingly enjoyable, given the fact that it was the last leg of a long journey and someone in the car had a poop blowout that necessitated a full wardrobe change. Fortunately, the blowout came mere minutes before a stop at Cracker Barrel, so the absorbency of the new car seat was not tested to its limits.

When we finally rolled in to Kingston right around bedtime, E's second wind kicked in and she ran around the apartment like a wind-up toy let loose on a freshly waxed floor. She was smiling, she was laughing, she was showing GrammaPapa all of her tricks, and I thought she would never go to bed. But eventually we convinced her to show GrammaPapa how she can take a bath and how cute she looks in her jammies, and by the time we got through story time and on to song time the gig was up. She had nothing left and was out in record time.

I hummed and hawed over the decision to go or not to go. Extra work? Yes. Possibly disastrous results traveling alone with toddler? Yes. Worth the effort to see my daughter with GrammaPapa, smothering them with running hugs and kisses and hearing her tell me to go back to New York City because she's staying at GrammaPapa's house? Yes.