Our California Adventure

Brenna and Cassie

Kaylee and Johnathan


We did it. We did it and we survived.

Take two grandparents, blend four grandchildren (ages 15, 12, and 4-year-old twins), add two days in Disneyland/California Adventure, mix in one day at Sea World, and what do you get? A grand finale to the summer of 2007.

Those of you who read my last blog know that on a whim my husband and I decided to take our son's kids to Disneyland. Four days after our decision, we were on our way. The trip was full of firsts for these kids, as they had never flown before, been in a city bigger than Portland, or been to Southern California. "Look, Grandma! They have real palm trees here."

I got to sit between the twins on our flight down. As we were building up speed down the runway Kaylee said, "Grandma, I'm scared. I need your hand." And with her other hand, she covered her eyes. Johnathan loved the speed, but was quick to express his feelings when we reached cruising altitude above the clouds. With all the disgust he could manage (which was quite a bit) he exclaimed, "But God's not HERE!"

Johnathan and I had another adventure together. John was across the room at the Golden Horseshoe Saloon with Kaylee asleep on his lap, when Johnathan informed me his stomach hurt and he needed to go to the bathroom...NOW! So I hurried him to the nearest facility, only to find the usual line snaking outside from the women's restroom. I was afraid he wouldn't be able to wait so told him to go into the men's and I'd wait for him right outside the door. Wait, I did, for about 5 or 6 minutes.

Then a man came out of the bathroom and said to the women in general, "There's a young boy in here and he's complaining."

"He's probably mine," I replied. "What's he complaining about?"

"I think he's asking for his grandma."

"Yep, he's definitely mine."

At that moment the janitor I'd recently seen enter the restroom poked his head out the door. "There's a little boy in here and--."

"I'm his grandma," I said.

"You'd better come in. I think he needs you."

I explained I really didn't want to go into the men's room, but the janitor insisted the coast was clear. Trepidation oozed from my pores as I entered this hallowed place. As soon as I did, I saw a bunch of men lined up at the white porcelain altar. I cupped both hands around my eyes, creating a narrow tunnel by which I could navigate my way to the far stall. "I'm not looking! I'm not looking!" was my noisy mantra as I progressed, but it brought me no peace.

I joined Johnathan behind the closed door and helped him finish his business, trying hard not to listen to the sounds around me. When we were done I opened the door a crack and yelled, "Is it safe for a woman to walk through?" The only response I got was a flurry of flushes. Again I yelled, "Is it safe for a woman to walk through?" My dear friend the janitor replied, "Yes, it's clear." As I opened the door wider he continued, "Well, mostly clear." (He'd make a terrible weatherman.)

Johnathan and I finally made it back to the rest of our group. "From now on, you have to take him to the bathroom," I told my husband. But in all honesty, I have to admit that my foray into the men's room was my most exciting adventure in Disneyland. It was like mixing a little of the Peeter Pan ride with Splash Mountain, plus some spinning Peecups (oops, I mean Teacups) with It's A Small World.