Red House: Part Nine

Read Part One
Read Part Two
Read Part Three
Read Part Four
Read Part Five
Read Part Six
Read Part Seven

Read Part Eight

The one thing The Princess is obviously not happy about right now is this life jacket business.  All she wants is to get this thing off of her, and the three stupid grown-ups in the boat won’t allow it.  As we idle away from the dock, she fights with everything she has to get out of that life jacket.

We’re doing our best to explain, of course.  Unfortunately, this seems to be one of those abstract concepts that just can’t translate between me and my non-verbal girl.  Trapping her in a bear hug, I whisper in her ear that she is going to love this.

Am I confident?  Hell, no.  Does she know that?  Not if I can help it.

On my signal, Umpa hits the throttle and the boat goes up on plane.  There is a terrifying moment in which I can’t see The Princess’s face, and I’m almost sick with worry that this will be too much for her.

Over the last few years, The Hubbs and I have made so many tiny adjustments to the way that we do things.  One by one, the adjustments seem miniscule.  Put them together, though, and it's something akin to a mountain of sand.  It all revolves around The Princess or – more accurately – her invisible friend: autism.  A laid-back person by nature, I am much more in tune with every little aspect of my surroundings, constantly scanning for anything that could threaten her peace.  I miss a lot of things along the way, but my greatest fear is that I’m trying to control too much.

Because, even though I can’t see her face, I can feel her arms flapping against me.  And I can hear her squeal in delight.  She begins to bounce in my lap, and I can see her cheeks pushed out in a gigantic grin, even from my post behind her.  She loves it.

And the fruit snacks are pinned between my leg and the seat, forgotten and flapping in the wind.

Stay tuned for Part Ten.

Red House: Part Eight

Read Part One
Read Part Two
Read Part Three
Read Part Four
Read Part Five
Read Part Six
Read Part Seven

Getting The Princess out of the water and onto the dock is proving to be a bit more difficult than I had anticipated. Did I mention the fact that the lake is over fifty feet deep out by the swimming dock?

Thank goodness we’re the only family down here right now. Grunting, holding a squirmy Princess in one arm and grabbing onto the ladder with the other, I heave us out of the lake. The Princess is not happy, to say the least.

Huffing and puffing like hippo with a hernia, I flop myself into the small shaded portion of the swimming dock. The Princess, who is still unwillingly attached to me (whoever invented the little handle on children’s life jackets, I love you), is pulling with all her might to get back to the water.

Whirling around to stare me in the eyes, she gives me the look: the one that tells me I have mere seconds to rectify the situation before I lose her. Unwilling to let autism win this one, so soon after we’ve arrived, I spring into action.

I call out across the dock to Gumma and Umpa to let them know we’re coming, then crouch next to The Princess and tell her we’re going to go on the boat. I ask her to walk with Momma over by Gumma and Umpa, and I promise the holy grail: fruit snacks.

Holding hands, we make our way to the stall that shall be our boat’s home for the rest of the trip. The whole way, I’m giving her a play-by-play, trying my damnedest to let her know what’s coming so she’s not caught off guard. Sometimes I feel as though I’m talking to myself, but the mild embarrassment is worth it if she understands even a fraction of what I’m saying, so I keep going despite the heat in my cheeks.

We’ve arrived on the finger pier next to the boat, and I’m crouched down again, looking her in the eye. I explain that I’m going to hand her to Gumma, and that we will all ride in the boat together.

The look she gives me in return is priceless. Grinning, she turns to Gumma and raises her arms.

Stay tuned for Part Nine.

Red House: Part Seven

Read Part One
Read Part Two
Read Part Three
Read Part Four
Read Part Five
Read Part Six

The water barely even feels cool against my skin.  I have to dive down about six feet before I feel any real relief from the heat.  Coming up for air, I find myself face-to-face with The Princess, who is laughing her you-know-what off.

Apparently, it’s funny stuff when Momma dives over ya.  Who’da thunk?

We giggle and splash by the swimming dock while Gumma and Umpa get the boat in the water.  I’m trying to show The Princess how to propel herself forward by kicking, but – hard as she tries – she can only seem to go backwards.  To me, this is entertaining as all get-out.  A fierce look of determination as she angles herself toward me in the water is quickly replaced by utter confusion when she starts to go backwards.

As we’re both laughing about the fact that her little transmission seems to be stuck in reverse, Gumma comes around in the boat.  They’ve successfully launched, and Umpa is going up to the resort compound to dump the trailer.  He’ll be back to meet us in a few minutes.

It’s time for a boat ride.

Stay tuned for Part Eight.

Red House: Part Six

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Read Part Two
Read Part Three
Read Part Four
Read Part Five

While Gumma and I unpack, Umpa and The Princess explore the cabin that shall serve as home base for the remainder of our trip.  She grins and runs at top speed from one end to the other, giggling the whole way.

It’s about a hundred degrees outside, and by the time we’re done unpacking we can’t wait to get in the water.  All four of us hop in the truck and head down the treacherous hill to the dock area, which is about 20 feet higher than normal.  The regular parking lot is under water, and people are using the road as a boat launch rather than driving over to the marina two coves away.

Now, let me preface this next part by reiterating how much I love my Pop.  He is far and away one of my very favorite people on this earth.  But he’s got a bit of a temper.  Sorry, Pop.  Love ya, man, but you can’t deny it.

When we get down near the launch area, there is another vehicle ahead of us.  This vehicle is, honestly, blocking the road unnecessarily.  There are a few kayaks poking out of the bed of the truck, which could easily be walked down to the water from the parking area to our left.  Granted, the folks in and around the truck seem to be taking their sweet time, but it isn’t nearly as catastrophic an event as Umpa would have you believe.  To hear the cuss words streaming out of his mouth in increasing volume and see him pounding the steering wheel, you’d think someone had popped him one in the nose…or worse, insulted his granddaughter.

The atmosphere in the truck is quickly turning toxic, and it suddenly occurs to me that The Princess and I don’t need to deal with this.  We’re not at the marina; we’re at our own dock, for crying out loud!  I grab my little girl in one arm, her life jacket in the other, and march off toward the dock to get her properly outfitted.

Now that she’s secured in her life jacket, The Princess can safely walk out and explore the dock.  The very moment she realizes she’s walking on a floating thing in the middle of the water, she loses all pretense of disinterest or composure.  Her eyes get as big as saucers, and every part of her little body begins to quiver, she’s so excited.

I take her down to the swimming dock at the end and carefully lower her into the lake.  She bobs there for a few seconds with a bewildered look on her sweet little face.  Never in her life has this little one seen so much water.  Finally, awe replaces the shock.  She looks up at me on the dock and cackles.

I laugh and jump in.

Stay tuned for Part Seven.

Red House: Part Five

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Read Part Two
Read Part Three
Read Part Four

I think this is the first time in my (ahem, cough, cough) years of going to Red House that we’ve actually arrived prior to check-in time.  The Grumps, while I love ‘em to pieces, are those people.  You know the ones: they’re perpetually late and the family tends to tell them things are happening two hours before they actually are?  Yep, that’s my folks.

Today, though, we’re all so jazzed that we actually get out of Bob’s hotel before the regular check-out time.  Another first for The Grumps, I’m sure!

Leaving the bustling town where we’ve spent the night, The Princess and I watch our surroundings turn more and more natural, the roads more and more red.  I feel my blood pressure going down with every mile we travel through the beautiful landscape.

Along the way, The Princess sings and smiles, dances and plays.  I just can't believe how well she's doing with all this car travel.  In a million years, I never would have guessed.

Within a couple of hours, we’ve arrived in town, completed our grocery shopping, and wound through the turny, hilly, red-paved roads that lead back to the lake.

Umpa parks his truck and boat near the front office, and I finagle my little car into a gravel patch right next to the pool.  Reaching into the cooler in the boat, we pull out a couple of PBRs, pop the tops, and breathe in the fresh air.  We can't help but grin.

We’re here.

Stay tuned for Part Six.

Red House: Part Four

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Read Part Two
Read Part Three

The next morning, The Princess is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by 7:00.  Whatever it is that we’re doing with all this driving and sleeping in funny places, she’s on board.

Gumma and I drag The Princess out of our room in her swim suit.  She’s been game for everything we’ve thrown at her since leaving Gumma and Umpa’s house yesterday morning, and I am in awe. 

We walk hand in hand across the red-paved parking lot to the deserted pool.  The closer we come to the water, the flappier my girl gets.  When she finally realizes that we are actually going in, she lets out a squeal of glee that melts my heart. 

We get in the shallow end, and she happily bounces around like a rubber ball.  I pick her up, and she kicks.  I blow motor boat noises in the water with my mouth, and she cackles.  She sits on the edge and splashes into my arms.  We make no less than eighty-five laps around the shallow end before heading back to our room, where Gumma has returned with breakfast burritos from Sonic and Umpa, Jessie, and Arlington are patiently awaiting The Princess’s return.

Snarfing down a couple of burritos each, we pack up our stuff and load the cars back up with the necessities we had brought in.  It’s just starting to get hot out, and I’m getting excited.

In only a few hours, we’ll be at Red House.

Stay tuned for Part Five.

Red House: Part Three

Read Part One
Read Part Two

I simply can’t believe how well she did in the car on the way to Bob’s hotel.  I mean, I don’t even remember being that agreeable on my trips down here with the fam when I was younger, and I didn’t have as credible an excuse as The Princess would have.  I’m just floored with how well it went.

Yes, the first leg of our trip was a smashing success.  And The Princess knows it.  She’s tearing back and forth across the hotel room, from the door to the bathroom and back, in a frantic attempt to burn off some steam.  The kid just sat in a car for ten hours, for goodness' sake.

Giggling all the way, she and Arlington make that mach-speed trip from the door to the bathroom and back no less than eighty thousand times.  Hair flowing behind her, smile plastered on her face, she kicks it into gear and runs.

By the time she starts slowing down, The Grumps and Momma are getting famished.  Leaving Arlington the Attack Giraffe back at the hotel with Jessie to guard our precious belongings, the four of us jump in my little car and head down the hill to Applebee’s for dinner.

Little Miss Picky shows us her true potential in the back corner of this smoky Applebee’s.  After successfully polishing off her mac and cheese, she turns her fork on Momma’s plate, proceeds to eat half my broccoli and then starts trollin’ the Grumps’ plates for more.  Apparently, I’m not the only one who craves veggies after an entire day of junk food being eaten at 70 miles an hour.

After dinner, we head back to meet up with Jessie and Arlington.  The Princess resumes her running after going – again – in the potty with the funny blue water.  She and Arlington zip back and forth like a couple of track stars.

By the time she collapses on the bed with me, the soles of her feet are black as tar.

Stay tuned for Part Four.

Red House: Part Two

(Let's just continue on as if we hadn't just taken a month-and-a-half break, shall we?  If you need to catch up, read Part One here)

Cruising down the road, following The Grumps’ truck, we’ve got the windows down and the radio up.  That’s right, The Princess is jammin’ to Zac Brown, dancing in her seat.  She doesn’t like Rascal Flatts, though.  Slightly creepy how much like her momma this little gal is turnin’ out to be.

Ah, hell.  Silly old Grumps have decided to take us through H-Town, where the main road has been under major construction for more than a year now, and traffic crawls at the best of times.

An hour later, we’re still jammin’ to the radio in our little car, though the windows have gone up and the air has been turned on.  I catch her eye in the rear view mirror, and she flashes me her pearly whites.

We drive and dance, snack and play.  Each time we stop, we hit the potty.  Momma’s always armed with a fresh Pull-Up, but – joy of joys – we don’t need even one during the ten-hour first leg of our trip.

We pull into the parking lot of Bob’s hotel, where we’ll be staying the night before completing our journey in the morning.  We go inside.  She tinkles on the toilet and laughs at the blue water in the bowl.

Stay tuned for Part Three.