Recently my daughter and family moved into their first house. With the packing, moving, working, closing, Grandpa and I came to town for a few days to keep the girls. We arrived on Monday. We chose a nearby hotel with a suite so we could have kitchen, living room and a bedroom to put Molly down in a quiet place. It also served a hot breakfast & dinner, which was perfect for us with a 4 yr old and 1 yr old.
We checked in first to unload our baggage before picking up the girls and all the things that accompany little ones of that age group. When we picked them up, the trunk of the car quickly refilled with suitcases, pack-n-play, favorite dolls and stuffed animals, diaper bag, and blankets that are a must at nighttime. At the hotel, Emily became our official elevator button pusher: 3 for the floor to our room, 1 for the floor at mealtime and to get to the pool. There were lots of mini-adventures during the first 24 hours – Molly’s haz-mat diaper, going to breakfast with wrong way Mouse and wrong way Molly, and Grandpa taking Emily swimming – before Grandpa had to leave to get back to work. Dropping him off at the airport, I noticed both the girls were napping. It would be my last moments of quiet since I’d be keeping them by myself on our last hotel night. Back at the room we had a fun bubble-splash bath and we all slept soundly that night.
My plan was to check out the next morning and take them to their new home to get settled. That morning Emily & I read her favorite Bible stories, built pillow houses for Mouse and Rudolph while Molly busied herself trying to open every door, cabinet, and window without success. I began to corral our things for packing onto a bellman’s cart while they played. We had suitcase, pack-n-play, diaper bag, pillows, toys, gift bags – some ransacked & some saved for opening at the new house – and groceries. I loaded and re-loaded until everything was arranged and all I had left was the pack-n-play. Molly had a fresh diaper and a full bottle, Emily was busy helping “ride herd” on this 13 month toddler whom Grandpa had dubbed Wrong Way Molly. Every time you put her down she toddled off in exactly the wrong direction! Wrong Way Molly also has a thing for hiding her bottle – she has a knack for throwing it into drawers, corners, couch cushions – anywhere it will be difficult to find.
The girls followed me into the bedroom where I proceeded to collapse the pack-n-play. I have one at home and they are SO convenient, easy to put up and take down. At least mine is. This one was a bear. I re-read the directions and tried again, succeeding only in getting it halfway folded. It was getting close to check out time, the girls were getting hungry and I was getting quite frustrated. After a few minutes, Emily piped up: “Grandma, do you know what my mommy does when she’s frust-erated?” “No, Emily, tell me.” “She just tries and tries 100 times until she gets it. That’s what you have to do.” Indeed. I thanked her, calmed down and tried again. But time won out, and I ended up cramming the ¾ folded contraption unbagged on top of the luggage on our cart. It would have to do.
The next challenge was how to safely maneuver the loaded cart and Wrong Way Molly out the door, into the elevator, down to the ground floor and out to the car with only a 4 yr old to help me. But then, Emily is no average 4 yr old – she stepped up into a leadership role. While she held the heavy room door open, I held Molly firmly on one hip and with my free hand guided the cart out into the hallway, pocketing a room key at the last minute just in case I’d missed something. Emily was our line leader, steering the cart and singing the whole way as I pushed from behind. She pushed the elevator button, and when it opened I told her to wait in the hallway until I could position the cart inside the cab. She did, but it took me a long time to get the cart in. As I was just about to tell her to step in, the doors closed, leaving a stranded Emily in the hallway with her Grandma & sister inside the elevator! Thankfully I found the “open” button quickly. The doors opened and I could see on Emily’s face it was almost panic time. She ran in and got right by my side – that was too close a call. The thought of her left alone up there if I hadn’t been able to stop the elevator in time unnerved me. I clasped her hand tightly and when we arrived at the ground floor we managed to get the cart and us out all together.
Feeling relieved, we started down the hallway. Molly began to fuss and I reached for her bottle. It was not in her hand or the diaper bag. Yikes!! THAT was one item we had to have and quickly. Emily and I looked up and down the hallway but no bottle in sight. Slowly I realized she must have dropped it on the way or thrown it somewhere in the room.
Talk about a dilemma. I wasn’t about to make that trip up to the room again with the kids and cart, and I certainly wasn’t about to leave Emily with our cart to go look for the bottle. There was only 1 option. I said a prayer of protection for the cart, took Emily’s hand and said, “Let’s go find Molly’s bottle.” Emily was concerned about our things and what if they were gone when we got back. So was I, but we agreed God would have to take care of it.
Back down the hall, push the elevator button, back to the 3rd floor, down the hall to Room 327. Thank you God for the room key in my pocket! We entered the room and began the search. After a frantic few minutes I spotted the bottle down in an empty brown shopping bag right where Molly had thrown it, probably while I was wrestling the pack-n-play, too busy to notice.
One final look around and then we were off – this time with bottle clutched in Molly’s hand. Down the hall, into the elevator, push the buttons, spilled out onto the 1st floor and down that hall. Was the cart sill there? YES! Thank you God! As we started pushing an angel disguised as a building maintenance man rounded the corner and offered to help. We gladly accepted, and in moments we were safely outside. We thanked Mr. Martinez and I assessed the situation. My car was 4 spaces over from the ramp we’d have to use. It was almost on a hot June day and I was sweating already. I decided to have Emily stand by the cart at the sidewalk’s edge, and more importantly in the shade. I instructed her not to move, to stay by the cart and watch me as I deposited Molly in the car and moved it closer so we could load it. She assured me she wouldn’t move and I knew I could keep my eye on her. I left her holding a gift bag with brightly colored tissue stretching up out of the top.
I unlocked the car and started the AC. Then around to the back to secure Molly in her car seat. Back in the driver seat I adjusted the air vents and pressed “max”. With the car in reverse I turned to look over my right shoulder before backing out and did a double take as I saw our cart, packed to the gills, speeding across the parking lot by itself! Holy Hawks!! Where was Emily? What if she ran after it??
I rammed the gearshift into park, flung the door open and heard, “Grandma, Grandma!” I ran over to Emily, standing exactly where I’d left her, bag in hand, a totally bewildered expression on her face. “Emily, are you OK? Good girl for NOT running into the parking lot. What happened?” “Well, I was going to hang the bag on a hook on the cart but I never got to because the cart just rolled away!” Looking to the direction she was pointing, I saw our Rollaway Cart. Yes, that was definitely ours: 3 suitcases, pillows, a Cinderella sleeping bag, Bear & Mouse hanging on for dear life, bag of groceries, laptop bag, diaper bag, gift bags, & cpap bags hanging from hooks on the side topped off with Grandpa’s wet swim trunks spread over the top bars to dry. Totally a Beverly Hillbillies look. I looked back at Emily, waiting expectantly to see how I would react. She didn’t know if she should be scared, worried, laugh or prepare for rebuke. All of a sudden, I was done. Toast. The scare of Emily almost stranded alone on the 3rd floor, anxiety over leaving the cart unattended, frantic search for Molly’s bottle, wrestling with the #$&(^$#)@ pack-n-play, and now the Rollaway Cart, stopped by a curb, openly displaying the guts of our hotel stay for all to see, but amazingly intact. I just lost it. I started to laugh. And I kept laughing, big belly laughs, hysterical double-you-over laughter that caused laugh-tears to roll down my cheeks. Emily started to laugh too.
So there we were. Laughing uncontrollably in a Hyatt hotel parking lot at high noon on a hot summer day with my baby granddaughter unattended in my car running with the AC full blast and door wide open, halfway backed out of the parking space, and our rollaway bellman cart illegally parked catty-wampus next to a curb in the middle of the hotel parking lot.
It was probably only a minute, but it seemed like forever before I could start to stop laughing. Actually, Emily and I are still laughing about the Rollaway Cart, but that day we were able to get it under control enough to pack the car and drive to their new house where Mom & Dad awaited their girls. Still chuckling, I gathered myself and got us back on track. Telling Emily to use the sidewalk to go to the car to check on Molly, I headed over to the Rollaway Cart and hauled it back to where Emily was faithfully waiting. Molly was happily drinking her milk, unaware of our hair-raising adventures. As I strapped Emily in we looked at each other and started laughing again. The entire rest of the day it went like that. We’d be going about our business and exchange a glance and start laughing all over again. At supper Emily said, “I’m still laughing about the Rollaway Cart!” so we told the story again to Mom and Dad. Weeks later, she came to visit me at work and as we lunched with co-workers she would say to each new person who entered the room, “Let me tell you about the Rollaway Cart……”
Haha this post totally stressed me out! Are you surprised? :)
ReplyDelete