Robbie and Nona


My last entry focused, much to my mom’s disappointment, only about the adult trip to Vegas.  Meanwhile, she had a weekend full of stories, pictures, and videos to share with Robbie.  Because no one could describe it quite like the woman who experienced it first hand, let me please present, for the first time, Nona the guest blogger!  What follows is an excerpt from her Monday, Monday memo that goes out to her staff.  Enjoy!

My family has been known to do some crazy things and this weekend will be right at the top of the list.  When we were all together over Thanksgiving, Hilary, my middle child, lamented the fact that she would be turning 30 soon (How did that happen!!).  As she mulled over how she wanted to celebrate this milestone, the idea of a siblings’ trip to Las Vegas emerged.  A major snag was the fact that Erin and Justin had no one in Boston who could keep Robbie overnight.  In a reckless moment, I volunteered to go to Boston so that they could all be together for the weekend.  My husband Tom, though not a sibling is the biggest kid of all.  He loves Las Vegas and quickly volunteered to go and serve as a tour guide and chaperone.

So on Friday afternoon as most of my family headed west, I headed east for an adventure with Robbie my two-and-a-half-year-old grandson, Barkley their dog and four cats that also have Sesame Street names.  And what an adventure it was starting with finding my way through Boston in the dark and the rain after missing an exit and a GPS that took me in circles!  A dear friend from my teaching days at Morton, who moved to New England several years ago, drove up from Connecticut on Saturday to lend moral support and a helping hand.  We had a great visit and managed to take both the dog and the kid on a long walk to the park to enjoy a beautiful January afternoon.  She was and still is an amazing teacher—Robbie has now learned to draw triangles and circles in shaving cream!

Church this morning was an adventure in itself.  Having packed the prerequisite juice, snacks, and books, all was well during the first half of the service, but then the snacks and juice ran out and things went downhill from there.  When Robbie leapt  from the pew to the kneeler, loudly proclaiming, “Good jumper, Nona!” and those around me looked as if they were praying that we would disappear, I knew it was time to go.  As we gingerly made our way to the closest exit and were nearly out the door he wailed, “No, Nona.  Go back!  Sing song!”  Needless to say we did not stay for that final hymn, but at least I know that my daughter does!



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