My kids are lucky enough to have half of their grandparents within a three-hour drive.
This didn’t happen by accident, of course. When the Diva was a newborn, Scott and I knew we needed to get closer to our families. We drew a big circle around Pittsburgh, my hometown, and Rochester, my husband’s. Any town inside that perimeter would do. So here we are - and we’re happy to be here.
Now that the kids are older, which means that they are less physically demanding, we have the luxury of shipping them up to their grandparents whenever the kids have the week off and we do not.
Or, frankly, when we all have the week off but need to get away from each other for a few days so that the adults in the family can get something done without being interrupted every 12 minutes by demands for a snack.
We’ve done this enough now that we have a system in place. Rather than have one adult drive all the way up to Rochester and back in one day, one parent drives to a McDonald’s near Syracuse where he or she is met by a grandparent. Lunch is eaten; kids and luggage are handed off; everyone drives home.
The kids get to have a fabulous time doing all of the stuff a big city has to offer, like riding escalators and going to the Museum of Play. My husband and I get to live like childless savages who eat on the couch in front of the TV.
A few days later, after various batteries have been recharged, we do the handoff in reverse.
For this last break, I was the adult who made the drive. We went in my car, where the kids are close enough to touch each other, rather than the minivan, where there is too much distance between the back seats for a kid arm to travel.