Flying the Coop

Ranking high on the list of the most spontaneous co-spousal decisions we have made in our marital history is unquestionably the one we made last Sunday night at 11 pm to go to Utah for Thanksgiving. This was going to be our first solo Thanksgiving....we would be absolutely alone to eat whenever and whatever we pleased...with plenty of elbow room. Sighs of relief from Corey....gasps of lonely panic from me. I felt gloomy all day, and right before I crawled into bed Sunday night, Corey mentioned he had meetings on Monday and Tuesday night. My lonely panic swelled. I unpremeditatedly hinted at the possibility of me leaving the next day and Corey flying out as soon as he could on Wednesday. He could ski. It would mean no elbow room, possibly no sitting room, and legs extending far over the end of the guest beds. He could ski. It would mean a 7 hour layover flight arriving past midnight on Wednesday night. He could ski. It would mean so many kids bouncing around, that one can barely have a conversation. He could ski. If there had been any trace of snow on Mt. Spokane and if Corey didn't have such a bad case of ski anticipatory jimmy legs, I don't think there would have been a wishbone of a chance of abandoning our turkey to thaw and bleed all over the refridgerator (I didn't have to deal with that bloody mess until Monday).

I left the next morning at 11 am and after 3 hours of the 12 hour drive, I cursed myself for ever coming up with this crazy 750 mile idea. Then I remembered my mother's homemade rolls. I would drive 1000 miles for one of those. The kids were really great in the car busying themselves with books, drawing, and Nintendo DS. I needed potty breaks more frequently than they did. The final 3 hours, however, the powerful pull of cousins took possession of their souls and they became excruciatingly annoying. "How much longer? How much farther? How many more miles? What time will we get there? How many more minutes?"....as if rearranging the question will change the outcome. I finally resorted to the pathetically empty threat of ,"If you ask me one more time, I will turn around and go home."

We arrived. Two days later, Corey arrived. All of the long driving hours, the noisy kids, the late flight, the small beds, the chaos, the knee knocking tight fit at the Thanksgiving table and the astounding lack of decision making ability when 3 or more of my siblings congregate.....all of this discomfort was swallowed by a few miraculous moments that were created by just being together.

Great Grandpa Stacey is swarmed by adoring great-grandchildren

Grandma P. teaches Ansel some checker strategy

Grandma P. orchestrates singing time

Ansel spends quality time with his cousins that he thinks are his brothers.

Emmy gets in some climbing time on Grandpa P.'s apple tree

Corey and I get our day of skiing at Alta.

Emmy sacrifices book space to make Ansel comfortable.

This is the only picture I have of Savanna on the trip mainly because this was the only time I really saw her on the whole trip....sleeping on the drive home.