Wisconsin Wonderment

You may laugh at me, but I really do think a 48-hour "vaca" is a wonder. A change of scenery, some new faces, a chance to relax—it's all wonderful to this chica.

When I went to Wisconsin a few weeks ago to visit my sister and her family, I had a terrific time. I even survived four (short) flights with a toddler.

The excitement began on April 24, when David, Noah and I parked at good old Columbus airport. As it turns out, there aren't any lines on a Friday afternoon at 1 PM. So the three of us waltzed around the concourse, letting Noah "push" his travel stroller to his heart's content. He also had a fascination with the escalators, so we went up and down, up and down, up and down. I think I actually got dizzy after a while, so I decided it was time that little man and I tackle the security line.

I don't like goodbyes, so it was no surprise when I got misty bidding farewell to David. You'd think we just met, but it's been six years since we first met. I know he gets bummed out to be away from Noah, so we made it quick and Noah and I zoomed up to the security check. Let me say this: I've now completed 11 flights with Noah, and the five legs that my mom traveled with me were infinitely easier than the six I flew solo, so to speak.

Imagine this process: take shoes off self & toddler and dump in bin; take coats off self & toddler & dump in bin; take laptop (for viewing movies, of course) out of backpack and dump in bin; throw away sippy cup we forgot about that is also full of liquid; toss backpack on belt; take squirmy toddler out of stroller, fold stroller one-handed, wrench stroller on belt; take a deep breath while grasping back of toddler's shirt; dig for ticket and ID in back pocket; and finally—to the relief of the folks in line behind us—walk through the metal detector.

And then repeat in the opposite order. WHEW!!!

I will give it to Noah, he was a dream on all four flights. He wriggled endlessly and kicked the seats in front of him with reckless abandon, but he didn't fuss or cry once. In fact, I even nodded off on two of the flights while he watched Bob the Builder and Dr. Seuss. To my little boy, I say thanks for keeping mommy's sanity.

And before I knew it, we had made it to Madison. And in that tiny little airport, we perfectly timed picking up our bags with the arrival of Jen, Andrew, Brendan and Adam (Chris was taking advantage of the gorgeous weather and getting in a round of golf).

This year it took Noah far less time to "thaw" in the presence of folks he doesn't see often. By the time we buckled him into his carseat in Jen's van (next to Ev's seat), Noah was smiling and openly delighted to be surrounded by big kids.

Friday evening was our busiest stretch. The weather was balmy so we stopped at a baseball game of one of Jen's students. The boys dove right into wrestling; Noah was in his glory. Then we stopped at Culvers to pick up some Wisconsin favorites: fried cheese curds (sounds scary, tastes great) and frozen custard (ice cream kicked up a notch). We ate our feast at Jen's house, taking only long enough to scarf down the goodies before the boys demanded to play outside.

Evan showing off his bean bags. Look at that chocolate face (chocolate mint, to be exact)!

These big kids can't possibly be my nephews!!

Noah? He was still in his glory. There was dozens of things to ride, hit, kick, bop, scoot, throw and zoom on, and no one seemed to mind him taking the grand toy tour.

Noah on Ev's bike, newly claimed.

And Evan on his bike, reclaimed.

Bedtime came awfully fast that night, driven by Noah's lack of nap and playing himself into a stupor. So once all four boys were tucked into bed, Jen and I had a chance to unwind. And we did! We cracked open a few beers and parked ourselves in front of the television. We laughed at really silly things (like some bad local news TV graphics), and we chatted away until our yawns increasingly filled in the pauses. Chris must have thought we were nuts, but he didn't say anything.

Overnight, the temperature dropped about 20 degrees, and the rain started falling in buckets. So Saturday was a much more lazy day. We ran errands with Jen, watched the boys play endlessly with their light sabres (one of Noah's new faves), and I even got in a 2-hour nap! Holy cow it was fantastic!

Noah's ready to take on Andrew in what appears to be an uneven match.

Light sabre duel!

It was also a lazy evening: we ordered up a viewing of Madagascar 2 (which I thought was adorable and highly entertaining), and then the adults segued into the end of Harry Potter 2 (or 3? or 4?).

Noah portrait, taken by either Andrew or Brendan

Auntie Tif & Evs being goofy

Noah, Brendan & Andrew

Jen had treated me with too many yummy things that day, so with a full belly and a sleepy head, we all crashed early. I think that day my poison ivy had reached fever pitch, so I tossed and turned, willing myself not to itch and trying not to ooze on anything.

Sunday dawned overcast, rainy and chilly again, but we headed off to church anyway. Andrew had been invited to acolyte for the first time, so we even went a little early to practice (Brendan and Chris stayed home that day since B was under the weather).

Andrew (left) lighting the candles (aka: acolyting)

...and carrying the flame out of the sanctuary, a grand Methodist tradition.

Noah and I didn't actually get the chance to sit through church. We made it through the opening songs, and then his restlessness took us right on out of the sanctuary and downstairs to the nursery.

Our table in the back of the sanctuary... right before we had to bow out due to the wiggles.

Once we got back to Jen's house, we only had a few hours left to hang out before heading back to the airport. Noah just played his little heart out, including running right into Jen's upper deck railing.

Bummer of a boo-boo.

The boys, as always, were lamenting about us having to leave. I find that terribly sweet. Brendan, especially, hoped we could stay longer (just like last year!), despite the fact that he was running a fever and didn't feel so hot. I, too, wished I could linger a few more days, where I didn't have a Web site deadline looming, home renovations to complete, laundry to wash and sort, etc. But, the airways were calling by 3 or so, and Jen whisked us off to the airport.

Andrew chillin' with Noah on the stairs.

Visiting my sister as an adult is so much more fulfilling than the 10-year-old version of myself would ever dream it to be. Though I have always wanted to be like my big sister, and I have often followed the choices she made to try to live out that dream (even down to the clubs I chose in high school), I never appreciated then that we could really love each other too. As preteens and teenagers were too busy fighting over clothes, curling irons and who had to clean the bathroom to understand that we have a perspective about each that no other woman in the world has. We know what it's like to grow up as daughters of our parents and we've lived together through every challenge that helps shape a young person's life. That kind of insight is priceless and takes years of putting up with one another to cultivate.

Now, as adults, I lament the fact that our families live so far apart. I see Jen & crew only 4 times a year, at best, and it's simply not enough. I love that the phone and the Internet make it so much easier to be present in each other's lives, but it's just not the same. I'm a little bit envious that my mom and my Aunt Peg live so close to one another. They can visit (and laugh, and argue) with each several times a week. And they get to experience their lives together.

For Jen and I, we'll have to settle for our yearly visits and our blog entries to keep up our sisterly friendship. And maybe someday we'll live closer, and our boys can have the same adventures we had together... or maybe not. It makes me a little anxious to think about that! :)