So we went to see the grandparents.   We hadn’t been to Nashville in what seemed like a long time, and G needed to meet her cousin.   On previous trips, she was too young to relate to another child, and Mac, for her part, was going through a bit of a “me” phase as well, so interaction between the two was either nonexistent or unpleasant, or both.   Hopes were running high on this trip that both had matured enough that it might actually be fun, and maybe they might <gasp> play together.   Could it happen?   A milestone.   No one was sure.

We prepped our respective monsters. Deb told Mackenzie her cousin Genevieve was visiting.   I told G we were going on the plane to see Granny and Grandad and Aunt Deb and Uncle Andy and Mackenzie.   She seemed to get the Granny and Mackenzie part pretty well.   She knew from previous Granny visits that Granny lives in someplace called Nashville that requires a plane ride to get to.   So I think she got it that we were going there.   We arrived, after a blissfully empty plane trip on Southwest marred only by the fact that the DVD crapped out with about 45 minutes left in the flight.   She handled it pretty gracefully after the initial bout of depression.   We looked out the window and got excited about trees.   We read books.   We were impressed how fast we were going.   We let our neighbors know we were impressed by squealing loudly.   We ate cookies.   We took a potty break in the tiny bathroom that I didn’t think could fit a toddler and her preggo mom, but we managed.   We were impressed by the blue flushy stuff in the toilet.   We finally touched down.   Whew.

Granny and granddad met us at baggage check.   This did not go as smoothly as previous reunions.   Last time G saw Granny, she remembered her instantly and ran right to her and gave her a kiss.   This time, she was scared.   She shivered and wanted mommy to hold her.   Hard to say if the fear was due to Granny and Granddad or bears.   For some reason, she has lately decided that bears are outside the window fairly often, and this is scary.   Apparently, bears like to hang around arrivals at the Nashville airport, but thanks to G’s warnings, we got to the car safely.   Here’s how the bear warnings typically go:

G   (visibly trembling):     I’m scared!

Me:   scared of what, baby?

G:   Bears!

Me:   (Giving her a hug) Bears! Oh no!   Where?

G:   Outside the window!

Me:   Don’t worry!   Bears are scared of mommy…they can’t hurt you now.     Hugs!

G   (trembling slightly less and holding on for dear life):     I love you mommy.

So sweet.   I wish someone would scare away my demons this easily.

We get to the car without getting eaten by any bears.   So far, the trip is going well.   G starts chatting about Mackenzie.   We tell her she is in Mackenzie’s booster seat.   From this, she extrapolates that everything, including the car, is Mac’s.   I am sure Mac would be pleased to hear that she now owns a very nice travel pillow and a late model Honda Accord.   Eventually, G accepts that maybe the car is Granddad’s and the pillow is Granny’s.   She still wants to meet Mac though.   So we call…maybe we can visit Mac on the way home.   But it turns out that Mac is asleep.   Oh the disappointment.   So we go home to Granny’s in search of snacks and rest. The much awaited meeting will wait.

A few hours later, we take a stroll around the block with G bundled up in snowpants, two jackets, a hat, socks on her hands, and her blankey.   It was chilly, but we wanted to see the luminaries, a one-night-a year Christmas tradition in Brentwood.   They were beautiful, but the stroller and the dark night worked it’s magic on G and she dozed off.   So we went home and rolled her into a bedroom and let her sleep.   Of course, this is when Mackenzie shows up.   So now, we must explain to yet another child that this much-built-up mystery cousin is not yet available.   More disappointment.   Will the meeting ever happen?   We eat dinner.   Mackenzie gives us regular reports on G.   (“She’s still asleep.”   “She rolled over.”   “She’s making funny noises”)   We finish dinner in peace.   Yaay.   Then we get the inevitable report:   “She woke up”   and the crying starts.   G has not woken in a good mood.   She’s cranky and scared and can’t figure out who all the people are who are staring at her.   She clings to me and cries for a few minutes.   We snuggle on a chair while she sorts things out.   Finally, she ventures out on her own, and Mac surrounds her.   This is not going well.   G panics.   More crying.   Hmmmmm.   We go find some toys.   Progress ensues.   We find more toys.   We find Granny’s stuffed animal birds.   We carry them all downstairs.   We bring down all the Fisher Price toys (one at a time).   We are all buried in toys now but the girls are finally doing something that resembles playing together.   Maybe this will work out OK after all.   Whew.