Before you read this long blog post, I want to apologize for the stream-of-consciousness. There is a lot to say and not much time to blog it; I intended to keep a tidy California 2011 journal. It's still just nothing more than an intention.
Okay, so first up- Irwin and Barbara
Los Angeles' sweetest old couple just happens to be connected to the Weeks family. Aunt Liz's uncle and aunt live in a Mediterranean mansion that is nestled amongst other beautiful homes on a hill overlooking Sunset Blvd. and Santa Monica. They are about four miles from the Pacific Ocean in a house built in 1927. The front door alone was unbelievable. A huge custom-built door that is so heavy it's on some sort of sliding steel ball-bearing thingy majigger (ask Matt). Original Mediterranean mosaic flooring was on the side porch and their secret garden back yard boasted an orange tree, two avocado trees, a fig bush, roses, hydrangeas, and tomatoes. It was like Corbin could sense the fragility of our hosts and was on his BEST behavior. He said please and thank you, kept his napkin in his lap, smiled, tried quiche/salad/chicken/rice and all very gratefully. We were really proud of him, and of course, he's never met a stranger. So, Barbara was his instant best friend when she overheard him asking about where their laundry room and vacuums are located, she just perked right up and said, "come with me, sweet thing. I will show you." Irwin served in World War 2. It was amazing to talk to them and hear about all their worldly experiences over decades and decades of marriage. When we pulled up into the driveway he announced to us, "I'm 88!" It was the cutest thing ever. Conversations between Irwin and Corbin were funny as both have significant hearing loss. Here sat Corbin with an ear cup and hat on which both muffle everything and Irwin at the other end of the table with two hearing aids. I interpreted for them ;) Having dinner with them was one of the highlights of this trip.
"We're at the happiest place on Earth, damn it!" An extremely crowded Disneyland Wednesday night did not a happy place make...
All in all, we've had a nice visit. Given the circumstances, we've all managed stress really well. I think it's a little bit hilarious that my first real break down happened at Disney. Yup. I cried my little eyes out amidst the stress of vacationing chaos. I think my anxiety about seeing Corbin's ear and his graft site on his skull have been haunting me for about a week. I've had several nightmares that we're going to see rotten flesh. I know that sounds morbid, but it's true. I am totally freaked out. I guess I feel like there's no undoing what has been done and I just pray to God that it looks like an ear. I fully expect swelling and redness and flakiness and that whole bit that Dr. Reinisch has warned us of, but there is still that unknown factor. And I'm scared. Corbin has been complaining about itching lately. I'm so glad that he gets the ear and head washed today. Poor buddy!
The one day that Corbin decides to show that he's still a three year old who is very capable of grumpiness just happened to be the afternoon we experimented with a trip to "the happiest place on Earth." We learned two lessons- 1.) do not take said grumpster to a theme park on an off day and 2.) when 5pm rolls around, the adults come to play at Disney and it's even MORE crowded than when moms and tots are out in the morning. Bleh. Nevertheless, Mema and Granddaddy are real troopers and we all made the best of it. We all rode the Buzz Lightyear Astro Blaster ride. We could take agresssion out on Zurg, the evil emperor with the little laser guns. We saw the evening parade, and Matt and I rode the Haunted Mansion ride. That's about the only thing we could find for under 45 minutes of waiting. We had two awesome half days at Disney, but this last visit was fodder for a cynical montage. I just kept picturing in my mind's eye the "It's a Small World" tune with still photos fading in and out of families in total melt down. There was no shortage of ill-behaving children of all ages: moms dragging kiddos by the wrists, brats screaming at parents, adults blowing up at each other (almost always clad in Mickey ears). All this with sickeningly cartoonish and peppy music all around. It really did make me laugh out loud several times when I thought about what an awesome SNL sketch could be made from it. We scarfed down some less-than-spectacular pizza, hit the gift shop, and called it quits. The tram ride back to the car was pleasant. Corbin announced in a really sweet voice, "I'm very sorry for being grumpy." Ah, never too little too late on those kinds of apologies.
The car ride home was hysterical. Corbin was pretending to attack Chili Cat and told us he was a Meanosaurus. It's now my new favorite word.
