La Familia

Paxton and I made the annual trip to visit my family and friends in my home state of Pennsylvania last week. I would go more often if not for the high cost of travel. I love spending time in Western PA. It's absolutely beautiful there, and I adore all of my family there. My mother's parents (who I call "Nana" and "Papap"), my father's mother (who I call "G.G."), my father's siblings ("Jess" and "Amy"), my father's wife ("Kay"), my childhood friend ("Heather), my Texas friend who relocated to Western PA ("Jessica"), and a woman I've known since I was two ("Pam") all live there, and I try to make the time to visit each of them in the few days that I visit once or twice a year. As the days go by making my departure date to PA closer, I get giddy with anticipation, particularly now that I have Paxton with whom to share the love and experience.

In the past, I have split my time between Nana and Papap's abode, and Kay's house. This was more understandable when my dad was still alive. I loved spending time with my grandparents, but I mostly wanted to spend my time with Dad. Sometimes it was difficult, because I felt like a square peg in the perfect fit of his new family. They had inside jokes and a shared history and immense love and understanding of one another. I was this awkward Texan who didn't watch enough sports, didn't like the same kind of music, simply didn't fit in. But I loved my dad. I ached to understand him and be understood by him. I wanted him to tell me I was pretty, and that he was proud of me. Most of our visits were tinged by sadness on my part. But I adored him.

Now, I still spend part of my visit with Kay. After years spent competing for my dad's affections, we now find ourselves in a very small, very intense club. We both miss my dad immensely. We see him in one another. I think we want to protect each other. I've known Kay since I was nine-years-old, but only came to really love and appreciate her a few years before my dad passed away. I consider her family now. She was my dad's family, so she is mine.

This visit was different, because a few days before I arrived, Kay's father had to be hospitalized. Her extended family came to look in on him, and stayed at Kay's house, where Paxton and I had planned to stay. It wasn't an issue, because Paxton and I were happy to continue our visit with my grandparents. I always feel at home with them. They make me crazy sometimes, but they also make my heart big, especially now when I see them with their great-grandson. They love him so much. And his immediate comfort with them was astonishing to see. He followed Papap so closely, that when Papap stopped, Paxton literally ran into his legs. He would offer to share his food with Nana. He carried their giant stuffed tiger all around the house with him. He gently inspected all of Nana's knick-knacks, much to Papap's great concern. It was wonderful to see our family grow and improve. I've never felt closer to my grandparents.

My father's side of the family is more reserved and I didn't have the same closeness in my childhood with them. Often, I feel that I must sit with my back straighter when I am with them. I must suck in my stomach, sneak to the bathroom to comb my hair, and be careful not to drop my gerunds when I speak. It isn't exactly a comfortable setting. But my G.G., in particular, seems to love Paxton very much. She makes us feel welcome. My aunt is a little more fear-inducing. She was quick to scold Paxton for any sort of toddler curiosity he exhibited in their home. A perfect example of our differences was this conversation:

Amy: Paxton--no, no. Don't touch the cover for the arm of the chair.
G.G.: Oh, don't worry. He's putting it back.
Paxton then looked briefly at both of them, locked eyes with Amy and wiped his mouth with the arm chair cover.

To Amy, I'm pretty sure we're backwoods hooligans. First we have our wedding in a campground, our reception in an old wooden dance hall, and then we have a toddler who doesn't yet know how to use coasters (seriously--she brought that up). When Paxton proved how intelligent he is in little ways like showing his aptitude for sign language or successfully completeing a rather difficult puzzle on his first attempt, I felt like Amy thought we were just showing off. Perhaps that was just my assumption, and didn't have a basis in truth. I'm simply happy to have a family who loves my son. That's all that really matters.

My adorable friend, Jessica, moved to Western Pennsylvania a couple of years ago with her now-husband, Chuck. They are both wonderful people. It is a blessing for me to be able to see her when I visit my family. She has an addictive personality. She makes everyone she meets immediately loosen up and smile. Paxton was no exception to her charms. He absolutely loved her. When I said her name, he grinned from ear to ear. He calls her "Jecca". He is pretty sure she hung the moon.

Traveling alone with a toddler isn't a breeze. I carted Paxton, a carseat/stroller, two carry-ons and a purse from plane to plane. I had no time to relax with my magazines en route, as I was constantly tending to Paxton's whims in hopes that he'd stop kicking the seat in front of him. I carried every light-weight snack, book, car, and game I could think of to constantly entertain him so that he wouldn't have a meltdown with no one around to distract him but me and an airplane filled with frowning strangers. It was stressful. Next time we fly to Pennsylvania, I'm willing to put forth another $250 for Chris' ticket just so I can have the support of another loving adult. It will be worth every penny.

To cap off our week of family fun, just days after we returned home, we were visited by my adorable sister-in-law, Sarika. This was the first time she has seen Paxton since he was four-months-old. She and my brother live in Los Angeles. I have been dying for them to meet the toddler version of their nephew. My brother, especially, will find in Paxton a little soulmate. They are two boys cut from the same cloth. They could probably sit together with a few Hot Wheels and be completely sated for hours. Paxton already knows about cars, trucks, SUVs, taxis, buses, Jeeps, Tizzy's car (Prius), vans and trailers. Aaron could teach him a ridiculous slew of more vehicle information. Sarika took pictures of the pets, the Hot Wheels, the Converse shoes Paxton was rocking and promptly sent them to Aaron so that he could be a part of the visit. I hope we can make a trip to L.A. soon to see them in their element and meet their son, Otto (a beautiful black dog with his daddy's bad attitude).

I feel rich with blessings. Family was never as important as when Paxton arrived. I ache for him to feel a sense of connection with his roots. I want him to always know how valued and adored he is. And I want him to learn how crucial it is to look out for our family and to treat them with love and respect. It's a lesson that I did not always take to heart. But I will do everything in my power to teach my son that lesson. If only so that he doesn't put me and Chris in a home at his first available opportunity.