We Here Already?

We’re at my auntie’s house. My aunt is a children’s book author and the kids went to bed with quite the storyteller. We took a side trip to Atlanta at the last minute on Tuesday to visit an old friend from Portland school days. Tavi and Bea fell madly in love with her pink house.

I’m feeling less severed now. Coming to family (who ironically never lived in Tennessee when I did) made a difference. I felt more southern in Atlanta as well – somewhere I never lived, but it reminds me a lot more of Memphis there. We arrived in Atlanta early and had lunch with my friend and then she directed us to the Atlanta Zoo and Grant Park. We had a great time and my cheap little dates chose the pictures of the animals over the price of admission. They romped on the playground and we did a little sightseeing. When Elizabeth came home, we went out for some yuppie BBQ (E’s description) and came home for sweet tea vodka drinks while the girls watched “Finding Nemo”.

It was fun to catch up with my pal but during the night I woke to the familiar sound of rain pounding over me. The rain here is very different to the wet stuff we have back at home. If the native Inuits in the north have multiple words for snow, we have as many for rain in the precipitious northwest. But the wet accumulation pouring overhead was much heavier than the spritzing I deal with from October to June in Portland. The rain continued all morning as we struggled out of Atlanta and back up to Tennessee. Driving through the Smoky Mountains was so trying and arduous, I had to make a long stop for gas in Whitwell. That drive is a little harrowing on a clear day; adding the downpour made my palms sweat and my whole body burst into tiny painful pinpricks of adrenalin every time I set my foot anywhere near the brake. I even felt a little hydroplaning action under the wheels more than once curling through the bends and sharp turns.


Once off the mountain, the skies opened into tarps of clear blue against the autumnal scenes of changing leaves and a very appropriate soundtrack of Gillian Welch. Tavi and Bea were tucked soundly in the backseat so I enjoyed the peace and cruised all the way into Nashville. We arrived in good time and Tavi and Bea showed off their pumpkins, Mama and Baby, before beginning their chores of destruction on a home that no longer employs three-year-old grabbers-of-breakable-objects and juice-on-carpet-spillers.

At each new destination, Tavi and Bea ask where the previous occupants are. Where’s that kid? Where the pink house? Where’s that girl? I find it amusing that they drive for hours in a car and expect to be in the same place upon arrival. They have adjusted to spans of time on the road, but the concept of space eludes them. I tried reading a little Einstein at bedtime, but they asked too many complicated questions like, “Where’s my Aladdin movie?”

While we were stationary in Knoxville for a few days, I took Tavi and Bea to the store and a little sightseeing. As soon as they were buckled in, they were ready to go for another long haul. When we arrived at the grocery store a mere ten minutes away, I opened the door and they had pulled all their toys out and I found them deeply engaged in the tedium killing activities they enjoy over hot cocoa and endless stretches of open road. "We here already?"
Tavi is now using the I-need-to-get-in-the-car plea when she is transitioning with difficulty. I had to sit with her in my aunt’s driveway for about ten minutes while she adjusted to new surroundings once again.

We will rest this morning and head to Memphis this afternoon. My reunion is tomorrow.

Comments

[Candice]

Has Tavi been wearing that dress since the party?
Can't wait to see you back in Portland.

[corit]

Almost time for the girls to turn 3, can you believe it? Had I known you were going to Atlanta would have directed you to the Varsity for an orange slushie. Safe travels you three.