Monday morning brought the final round of goodbyes with our friends. But thankfully, the vacation wasn’t over for any of us. Cicely, Alicia, and their families would be driving up the Oregon coast for another stay few days nestled between the water and the trees. Aimee, the kids, and I would be headed inland to visit my aunt and uncle in Portland. We were able to see them in Whiteriver before the pandemic, but this would be the first time we’d be visiting them in Portland since we had kids. All six of us were looking forward to it. So we packed up the car one last time and hit the road. The kids barely made it down the driveway.
In spite (or perhaps because) of their exhaustion, the kids did remarkably well for those final six hours of our road trip. All in all, we covered about 1,200 miles that week, and I only questioned our decision for about seven of them.
Our two stops were at a park in rural Oregon and a delightfully funky cafe in Eugene. Same state, remarkably different places. It was nice to see both.
We rolled up to Richard and Shelley’s home around dinner time. It’s a charming house on its own, but especially so when mixed with wonderful childhood memories of spending time with them and my cousins there. They’ve lived in that house since before I was born, and it was fun to watch my kids start building some of their own memories.
Despite my cousins having long-since moved out, there were plenty of toys to play with from my recently retired uncle’s child psychology office. He had been sending his clients home with a toy of their choice for the past several months, but hung on to a few of the ones that previously belonged to his kids when they were younger. So there were some great early-80s Fisher-Price gems that Quinn and Mimi enjoyed just as much as if they came off the shelf yesterday.
After dinner, we had planned to walk to a nearby park. The kids had been in the car all day, and some outside time would be good for all of us. But we barely made it three blocks before bladders and the hour caught up with us. At least four of us were pretty exhausted, and I suspect a fifth was as well.
Back at the house, Richard played a ragtime piece on the piano as we brushed teeth and got ready for bed. He’s an accomplishes pianist, and it was nice for the kids to see what could eventually come from from the piano classes that Mimi is barely three months into.
The sleepover that night wasn’t anywhere near as epic as the ones the week before. Thankfully. But Mimi and Quinn got to snuggle up together on the futon for about ten seconds before everyone fell asleep.
On Tuesday, the kids slept in later than any other morning I can remember. It was way past second breakfast—bordering on third—before our family had eight eyes fully open. We had a lot of week to sleep off.
Thankfully there wasn’t much of an agenda that day. We talked through our options over breakfast, and the Oregon Zoo sounded like a particularly nice way to spend the day. Lots of outside time, leg stretching, and of course, animals. Richard asked Mimi what she was hoping to see, and she replied with bunnies and flamingoes, of all things. None of us were convinced that we’d be seeing either at a Pacific Northwest zoo, but we headed off downtown to find out.
The Oregon Zoo is remarkably well done. It’s built into an existing Cascade forest, so if you didn’t notice the elephant signs or concession carts, it would be easy to forget that you’re not on a hike. We meandered through the delightful elephant, giraffe, and orangutan exhibits, then we stumbled upon the…wait for it…bunnies!
Mimi ended up being two for two. There was a flamingo exhibit just around the corner. The perfect zoo.
By early afternoon, all of us were starting to fade. We headed back to the house for a mega nap, and then had a little happy hour on Richard and Shelley’s front porch. Then, 24 hours after our first attempt, we finally felt able to bite off the trip to their neighborhood park. It was great. A nice playground, a little splash pad, and, being Portland, some top-notch people watching.
Dinner was some delicious takeout, and then we all settled in for a night of sleep that was just as excellent as the one before it.
The next morning was our last one of the trip. We didn’t need to be at the airport until the early afternoon, so Richard and I made a quick donut run as we had done a decade earlier. But since this one was post-children, I bought fewer of them and was able to eat even less. But they were still delicious, even if I had to live vicariously for a few of the flavors.
We still had time left for one last activity, and set off for the oldest rose gardens in Portland, a city full of rose gardens. It was particularly beautiful, as our trip coincided with their peak bloom. Mimi, who had taken to picking flower petals any time we looked away that week was beyond thrilled when some caretakers noticed Mimi salivating and handed her some of their clippings.
After some time on the nearby playground and then several rounds of goodbye hugs, we set off for the airport. It was an easy drive and we were plenty early. But I still had to repack all of our bags once we took out the car seats. Besides, we had learned long ago that a few extra minutes at the airport are more than worth it when we’re shepherding a couple of kids. Although, in all honesty, Mimi had been shaking off her travel cobwebs the entire trip and was now back to leading the rest of us through the airport.
We breezed through security and killed a bit of time checking out the taxiing airplanes. Even our only remaining post-security task was easy. Our seats were dispersed across the airplane, but the gate agent didn’t have any trouble finding an entire row for us to takeover. Although he did ask before printing the boarding passes if we really wanted to give up the opportunity for free babysitting. Fair question.
But as it turned out, our seat assignments barely mattered. Quinn slept almost literally from wheels up to touchdown. Mimi put on her headphones and lost herself in a children’s nature documentary. I would have barely noticed her if I didn’t feel an excited tap on my shoulder every three minutes to alert me to another baby animal on the screen. Who knew that even pigeons could be cute?
Phoenix was starting to see the first rumblings of a monsoon as we made our approach. As is often the case on summer afternoon flights over the desert, the turbulence was considerable. But it was all lost on the kids. Quinn melted hearts and cut the tension with his occasional exclamations of “That made my belly have butterflies! Belly butterflies!!” It brought the house down every time. Both kids had charmed the flight attendants so much that every time one of them passed by our row, another set of Biscoff cookies landed on their tray table.
With the turbulence the only remotely notable thing on the three hour plane ride, we then set off for the Admirals Club to pass some of the three hours we’d be at PHX. Bedtime quickly came and went, and the longer we tried to keep the kids reasonably quiet, the more futile our efforts became. At one point, Quinn became convinced that every approaching plane was a 747 jumbo jet. His cries of “Jumbo Jet! That’s a Jumbo Jet!” quickly went from adorable to moderately entertaining to grating, and we figured that it was time we let the other visitors get some benefit out of their club membership. We packed our bags and made our way back to the public areas of the terminal before (or perhaps just as) we wore out our welcome.
Putting their over-tired loopiness on full display, Mimi and Quinn took to running the entire 100 yard walkway separating the four terminals at Sky Harbor Airport. And I’m talking full sprint.
Those Biscoff cookies really pack a punch.
At one point, I’m near-certain that Quinn fell asleep with his eyes open while taking the moving walkway back to the starting line.
But then they were right back at it. It was something else, and quite a few travelers were cheering and congratulating them every time they reached the end of one of their sprints. I was exhausted just watching.
Unsurprisingly, the kids were barely conscious on the flight to Flagstaff. The only way we knew that they were even awake was when one of them spotted a lightning strike in the storm that spanned our entire 45 minutes in the air. But they even had a way of making even that seem more exciting than concerning. These kids are fun. And after 8 days, 1,200 miles, 4 flights, and a half-dozen sleeping arrangements, they’re still fun. I think that really says something, and I’m already looking forward to our next trip with them. But maybe this time I’ll say yes to the free babysitter.
