Mike's Marathon Blog

Another weekend gone, another vacation in the memory books. Many of you don’t notice the weekends passing, but we sure do. There’s not too many left until we have a guest joining us. Ten more weekends of no plans, no responsibilities and no worries.

I have been visiting North Conway since I was a baby. Many of my childhood memories with my family and cousins come from up there. I shouldn’t even say childhood. I’ve been to North Conway half a dozen times every year since I was 12. This past trip was definitely an eye-opener. It’s not just the parents and kids visiting North Conway any more. It’s now the parents, the ‘kids’ and OUR kids!

We always reminisce when we’re sitting around or driving past a memorable spot. The stories are endless. The same ones are told every time, but somehow they never get old. This weekend, in the midst of the laughter and chatter, I couldn’t help but look around the dinner table at all the new faces. Not new people, just new faces. Instead of parents, there were grandparents. Instead of kids, there were 30-year olds (two of which were pregnant). And next to one of the 30-year olds was an actual new face: a 15-month old baby. Trips to North Conway are officially different!

My aunt was telling Jacky about a night when my cousin and I were literally beating the snot out of each other and how she had to physically break it up and punish us. My cousin is a girl, but in my defense a very strong girl! She always reminds us of the winter we were into stealing. We didn’t steal jewelry or anything like that. We would ‘borrow’ silverware from restaurants, trays from McDonalds, cardboard cut-outs from movie stores and signs from trees. When we got back to the house, we would tape our ‘trophies’ to a wall down in the basement. By the end of the winter, you couldn’t even tell the paint color on the wall because it was completely covered in stolen goods. My aunt could never punish us because she played a giant role in every heist……..she was our getaway driver.

Sharing the stories and the memories from when we were kids while playing with one of ‘our’ kids was quite surreal. As unbelievably amazed and shocked as I feel when I look at my Godson or the two fetus-filled bellies sitting next to me on the couch last weekend, I can’t even begin to understand how parents feel when they see their own child’s child.

As I watched my aunt play with her grandson, I kept thinking back to the times when she would be hauling up a mini-van full of screaming, bratty tweens to North Conway for the weekend. And the car ride up was just the beginning. The parents were crazy enough to take us skiing the next day. Getting kids ready to go skiing has to be one of the most brutal tasks a parent takes on. Forget the morning rush of making sandwiches, packing bags with every winter accessory in sight and stuffing skis/poles/boots/kids into the car, the ski lodge itself is where it all starts. I wouldn’t help a kid put his ski boots on if it was my actual day job that paid me $1 million a year. Even if you succeed with the boots, someone is always missing a glove, a pole, someone needs hand warmers, someone needs a drink, someone fell in their boots and can’t get up, someone is screaming because their feet hurt. Even if you’re lucky enough to escape the lodge and hit the slopes, someone is cold or has to go to the bathroom and you’re right back in. There’s no doubt a parent’s true test of patience comes during their kid’s first ski experience (and every one there after).

I guess it will all come full circle soon. My son will learn to ski on the same mountain that I learned to ski (and unfortunately, someone needs to help him with his boots………mom). All of our kids will eat Happy Meals in the same McDonald’s gondola that we used to sit in. My son and godson will be fist fighting over who gets to play with the new Xbox 2020.

It’s strange to think that my kids will someday play with the kids of the kids I played with when I was a kid (read again. It makes sense). I’m not sure if that’s a rarity these days, but I’m thankful that we stayed family/friends long enough for it to happen. My parents are godparents to my cousin and I always hoped that one of us would be a godparent to one of our kids. And it happened with the first one! Who would have foreseen that when we were on rides at Story Land or canoeing down the Saco?

(actual view from their house)

My aunt and uncle think they’re house in North Conway is a place for them to escape to and relax. Hopefully their definition of relaxing is teaching all of our kids to ski, taking them to the Polar Caves, breaking up food fights in the gondola at McDonalds, pulling the car over so someone can swipe a street sign and finding bottles of vodka under mattresses.

Don’t worry, the theft and underage drinking won’t happen for awhile. For now, let’s focus on baby proofing the entire house, removing anything breakable, clearing the yard for a swingset, replacing beds with cribs, stockpiling diapers and turning the downstairs living room into a playroom.

I love North Conway. I have so many memories from up there and hopefully my kids will too. After reminiscing this past weekend, I started thinking. Should Jack and I go to the Cape, Newport or Maine when the kids are up in North Conway? Wait, did you think I was actually bringing them to North Conway!? I said THEY will be excited! Did you not hear some of those horror stories? The grandparents are taking them to North Conway! Mommy and daddy are going on vacation!