Suddenly a grown up

Contrary to many parents, who worry that their child will got lost in the bustle of a busy airport, or morph into a screeching demon when the flight is preparing for take-off, I'm most concerned at check-in. For days before our trip commences, I have visions of suspicious airport staff who, after reading two (albeit only partially) different last names on Edan and my tickets, subsequently demand to see some kind of legal documentation verifying that I can be trusted to travel safely with this pleasant little girl who might be my child. When I don't produce it, they'll call their supervisor, who will call security, who will call the FBI, and before you know it I'm locked in a windowless, white-walled interrogation room, blinded by the single fluorescent light that's swinging overhead, while being barked at as part of some "good cop/bad cop" routine by two guys who think I'm a threat to national security.

But this never happens. And actually, our flight to Florida was easy -- helped along by Good Dog Carl, Hop on Pop, a Christmas-themed Dora coloring book and a potpourri of snacks packed lovingly into tightly-sealed Ziploc bags. Edan is a traveling rock star.

* * *

Every time we visit with my family, Edan has a favorite. Up until now, Nanny (my mom) has been the clear-cut front-runner, but on this trip, Grandpa edged out into the lead (not that, in a house full of eight doting adults, there was any competition for her attention...not at all).

But from the moment she sprinted through the departure lounge, and into his open arms, Edan was more or less hooked on Grandpa. Then my father sealed the deal with the following patented grandparent maneuvers:

Exhibit A: He introduced her to their pool.
Exhibit B: After showing her the pool, he revealed 12 multi-colored rubber duckies, that really wanted to swim with her
Exhibit C: He showed her Beauty and the Beast, even though I was obviously trying to trick her out of watching it

Edan was sold.

Not that Nanny didn't hold her own -- she was in charge of bath time, and introduced Edan to all our old toys (which are awesome). Plus, my sister made some serious waves as Fun Aunt Kristin -- who had slumber parties every night, and was the only one Edan allowed to read to her before bedtime.

Above all, if this trip proved anything, it's that my mom and dad have graduated to the major leagues of grandparentdom, and are now fully capable of being more fun and entertaining than any of Edan's parents. Plus, they have way cooler stuff.

* * *

Also on my to-do list for this visit was a quick trip through adolescence. I'm a total pack-rat, but because I went to college overseas, and then moved -- almost completely without warning -- to a tiny apartment thousands of miles away from home, I left a room full of old sports trophies, 4th grade writing assignments, and punk rock CDs from bands with names like Against All Authority sitting at my parent's house. My mom had since packed it all into boxes, and it was time to take it off her hands -- either home with me, or into the garbage, once and for all.

Edan can only just grasp the concept of days and weeks, let alone decades, so she couldn't understand how I felt, sifting through boxes of old books and baseball cards, amazed that I'd been alive long enough to have stuff this old. She liked pointing me out in high school thespian society photographs (or wherever), and was enamored with some medal I'd won in a 7th grade writing competition -- but eventually got bored and ran off with Fun Aunt Kristin, while I tossed my winning story back into the box, leaving it to be thrown away.

While it was nice to spend a moment thinking about my 8th grade trip to Washington DC, or wondering what Jason, Johnny and Aaron were doing these days, all I wanted to keep was stuff I thought Edan might like when she got older.

* * *

Things change. For as long as I can remember I've worked hard to make sure that happened -- pushing, rushing, and struggling to shape every year into what I imagined it could be, or into whatever it was that I thought I wanted.

But our trip, in a thousand ways, was just like the ones I took with my parents -- when I thought Grandma and Grandpa's house was one of the best places in the world. And my life, oddly enough, is shockingly similar to how I imagined it would be -- at age 10.

So while I flip through the only yearbook I kept from grade school, or remember Edan's face as she gave Grandpa one last squeeze, it occurs to me that I'm suddenly grown-up -- almost completely by accident.