Our last day at the beach with our grandchildren started with room service breakfast. Leo and Lucy had experienced room service breakfast previously with their parents and decided this is the best thing. EVER. Our hotel, the Fairmont Miramar
, offered room service via an in-room iPad ordering system. I had the option of adding chocolate chips to their buttermilk pancakes, so - of course - the kids had a "healthy" breakfast.
They should have been hungry. Falling asleep while watching a movie after dinner last night, Lucy and Leo slept a very serious TEN hours before waking this morning. Lucy and Leo shared a bed all night and Lucy only woke us all once with a loud exclamation of LEO, YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL. The darling girl did not wake during her announcement. Pretty sure I woke six or seven times over the night to cover the kids in blankets, only to discover they (and by they
, I mean Lucy) had kicked the duvet off once again. Leo sleeps all night, undisturbed. (Yes!)
While enjoying their room service pancakes, Leo and Lucy asked me to - once again - tell them the story about the time their Mom had mistaken diced onions for rice. This tale is quite famed in our family lore, so I again told the story to Leo and Lucy.
As I wrote in a blog post from 2011
, I told Lisa's children the details: Their mom was born while we were living in The Philippines. As a result of being raised through toddler-hood in Manila (and subsequently moving to Taiwan), our sweet baby was possibly not your normal All-American Kid. (We've never told her though, so just keep quiet.) When Lisa started eating solid foods, we offered rice and mangos. She thrived on rice.
So... short story long... we take our toddler to Oregon to visit our families and (thinking we are being great parents) treat our Little Girl to the Golden Arches! (No McDonald's in Manila at this time.) We place our precious nearly-two-year-old into a high chair and put a hamburger (Happy Meal!) in front of her. She looks. Eyes wide. She touches. Lisa takes off the top bun, and finds little bits of chopped onion on the burger. Her eyes light up. She puts the tidbit of chopped onion in her mouth, thinking the onion is rice... and howls! Actual tears are streaming down her cheeks. Then Lisa grabs her plastic spoon and bangs the handle down on her high chair tray (ala rioting prisoner) and begins to chant: Baby Wants Rice! Baby Wants Rice! Baby Wants Rice!
Lucy and Leo think this is the funniest story they have ever heard. They laugh and laugh. Lucy asks me to repeat the story THREE times. The grandkids plot-out a way to make a fake "Baby Wants Rice" riot at their house next week.
This was a very fun morning with the kids. It is such a fun stage as Leo and Lucy realize their mom was once a child/baby and we were/are her parents. Leo asked several questions over this weekend about my Dad and Dave's Mom and Lenny's grandma... trying to get the hierarchy sorted-out in his mind. Lucy is too young for this timeline, but now understands we are the parents of her mom and thinks we can ground Lisa at any time: Are you the boss of My Mom?
We should. I can't tell you how much Lisa would relish in being grounded at this stage in her life!
Being a grand parent is the best part of life!
After breakfast, the kids donned their bathers and we headed down to the pool. It wasn't too warm this morning - sorry for all you freezing peeps around the US, but it was under 80-degrees in Los Angeles today. Maybe due to the hotel wedding last night, or the cooler temperatures - the pool was nearly deserted this morning.
40 pounds - the dude can make quite a splash!
His sister makes no splash. Lucy hasn't figured-out the cannonball aspect of a cannonball. Lucy just screams CANNONBALL as she jumps into Dave's arms.
Victoria on PBS.
The first few hours after leaving our grandchildren are so hard. We miss them so much! It was a great weekend and a great idea to spend it exploring a new place. Great memories and so much fun. Dave and I only had to deal with one negative aspect. Leo and Lucy fought every dang time about who would push the elevator button. Every. Dang. Time.
I hope this is their most serious sibling issue.
Until my next update, I remain, your ground floor correspondent.
RV PARK: The Motorcoach Country Club