Dear Addie,
This week, we made a few adjustments to our original plan, and you and I went road-tripping up to Michigan with Nana and Papa. Twelve hours in the car while potty training sounds fun, right? We got this; let's do it.
After three weeks of Nana and Papa visiting, it was time for them to head back north for Papa's big 70th birthday party. With our consistent chaos of schedules, it was clear this would have to be a divide and conquer to get to party central, and flying with you is still not exactly in the cards - among many things, your love & obsession with flushing toilets is strong. I can't imagine what you'd do now with an airplane toilet. Talk about a powerful flush! You'd never want to leave the restroom, not to mention I'd have to cram myself in that tiny space with you, but I digress. Packed with anything we could need, from snacks to clothes, to sensory activities, we were ready to start our adventure in an unfamiliar car, with a potential hotel stay along the way (another challenging thing for you) to a place we had not been in a few years. No turning back now!
A little back story: when I drive with you, let's say, just about anywhere, you ask me to change the radio about a hundred times. Change please, change please, change please and this is with headphones! In your defense, there are specific instruments in songs that your auditory system does not appreciate. Ok, I get it. Also, whenever we pass a McDonald's, I hear, "A cheeseburger, please!" You know what you like and dislike and are very vocal about it. Is that a teenager thing? maybe. Now, back to road-tripping with Nana and Papa, you asked to change the station maybe five times, never requested cheeseburgers when passing a ton of McDonald's along the way, and stopped three times to use the potty, staying dry the entire twelve hours! What on earth?! All I hear now is Taylor Swift's song "It's Me, Hi, I'm the Problem It's Me." in my head. But all joking aside, you did amazing! You never even requested or played with any of the activities I brought; you just held your beloved blankie and gazed out the window like it was all familiar, and you knew where we were going, smiling and stimming the whole way. But could you have really remembered this drive years later? Did you really know? The answer - yes.
We arrived at Nana and Papa's, and you immediately walked into the kitchen to find the fridge magnet toys. Toys that have been affixed to the front of their refrigerator since your brother and sister were young toddlers. Even with us visiting only every couple of years, they know you love them, so they leave them up. However, it looked a little different this time as they recently got a new refrigerator, and the front was not magnetized, only the side. No problem for you; you just placed it leaned up on the floor in front of the fridge because that's where it should be - in front. No mind that we will all be walking over it and kicking it. Next up, you went straight to the basement to find the toy box, and yes, once again, it was just sitting waiting for you. You dumped it out and spent the next hour inspecting each toy, stimming with so much joy.
Addie, I had no idea what to expect on this road trip, but from the drive to Nana and Papa's house and your routine when arriving, I realized this whole journey for you was like riding a bike. I've always said first impressions are everything with you. Your memory is like a giant card catalog system, and there is no doubt in my mind that looking out that window on our twelve-hour drive, you knew exactly where you were going, and there was calm in the knowing for you. Something we can all relate to.
So proud of you, baby girl. Now let's celebrate Papa!
Love,
Mom