Trip to Newport

"Are you the lady from Lincoln City? You actually drove from Lincoln City just to get happy meals for your kids?" So said the assistant manager at the McMinnville McDonald's drive-thru to Meg, who had escalated her displeasure that they no longer had any Pokemon-themed happy meals, which had just been released today. I continued staring out the window, embarrassed, but listening intently to see how the drama would play out. The two women vigorously traded banter until some other underling discovered that he had found more of the Pokemon toys--but to Meg's disdain, she would have to park the van and go inside to place her order. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that I wouldn't have to witness any more of this first-hand. I coached the kids to be over-complimentary when they received their food, and they responded perfectly when Meg returned a few minutes later with Pokemon-themed happy meals. I failed to observe any change in her outward appearance. Had her angered simmered away? Was she still hot and provokeable? After closing the door and fastening her seat belt, she said "I got a coupon for smoothies: buy one get one free. Let's go through he drive-thru again. What kind do you want?" Uh oh. Was this just an excuse to engage the lowly McDonald's employees again? No. Meg was polite and even introduced herself as "The Lincoln City Lady." I'm always amazed at how quickly Meg gets over things. And thus ended our three-day jaunt to Newport.

Wednesday began with a 6.5 mile run through the neighborhood. I had Ian in the bike trailer, and Eddie joined me by bike and finished without too much complaint, even though he crashed on some gravel in the early stages. The rain poured on us for the last quarter of the run, but the boys didn't seem to care. After showers and lunch, we departed for three days and two nights of vacationing in Newport, on the central Oregon coast. Meg had procured lodging at the Holiday Inn Express, just a short walk from the Oregon Coast Aquarium, which was the spotlighted event on your itinerary. The rain had let up after leaving Portland and returned for only a brief period Thursday morning, while we were still sleeping, thus keeping our lengthy streak of good weather at the coast alive.

The Inn had an indoor swimming pool, of course, and the boys spent many, many hours submerged in its depths. Aaron knows how to swim and requires no supervision. Ed does not know how to swim, but he knows his limits and how to remain safe. Ian plays in the pool with reckless abandon, evidenced by his jumping into the pool--all of which has a depth greater than his height--without much care if someone was there to catch him. On our first visit to the pool, he would sink to the bottom if someone didn't keep him afloat; but on the second day, he learned to pop back up to the surface after making the plunge.

On Thursday morning we walked to the aquarium under cloudy but non-threatening skies. I had hoped to spend the entire day here, but after entering through the gates I realized how shortsighted this was: a) it was a lot smaller than I remember (my only visit happening way back in 1996) and b) the kids weren't as interested as I thought they would be. Not that anyone had a miserable time--far from it; but they wanted to go to the beach at lunch time. So after lunch at Abby's, we drove to Agate Beach, where it was mixed clouds, fierce winds, and no warmth except when snuggled next to Meg. But the kids didn't care: they spent hours building sand structures near the ocean and running free and wild. We ate leftover pizza and breadsticks at the hotel for dinner (and maybe a few bags of popcorn).

Meg has created a tradition of sorts by letting the kids pick a souvenir to commemorate their travels. Aaron had picked some colored glass balls, Meg a birdhouse, and Edward a pop gun from a pirate-themed shop (I had already smuggled two big, beautiful rocks from the beach; they now guard the rock path alongside our house). Before heading out of town we made one last stop at Yaquina Head. I had joked that we shouldn't stop here again, since our previous visit led to a multi-day hospital stay for Aaron. Despite Yaquina Head's beauty, I truly think it is cursed for our family.

While the lighthouse is the main draw, we first spent time at the tide pools and then at the interpretive center, waiting for the lighthouse to open for tours. While waiting in line, of the park's employees--dressed in early 20th century garb--told stories of what it might have been to be the wife of the lighthouse keeper. She also told Ed that he would have to leave his pop gun--which he hadn't put down since he picked it out at the shop--at the bottom. Ed objected, but she assured him that it would be safe under her watchful eye. I waited at the bottom with Ian, as he was too short to make the journey to the top, while Meg accompanied the older boys. As soon as Meg returned, I gave her the sleeping beast that Ian had transformed into, while Ed joined me on my trip to the top. After we came down, Ed looked for his pop gun, but it was nowhere in sight. Meg or Aaron probably took it outside with them. Upon finding them I asked if they had the pop gun. No. They hadn't seen it. I thought they were joking, because we had searched the lighthouse thoroughly before asking them. We returned and asked the park employee if she had seen it--maybe she had put it somewhere safer. She looked at me like I was stupid and said that she had already saw my son take it. She clearly didn't know who Ed was, because she let some other random kid take it. Eddie was as upset as he ever has been and took maybe 30 minutes or so to expunge his anguish. We never did find the culprit. Being that this was our concluding activity before returning home, it tainted the experience for me, and helped Meg become the "lady from Lincoln City."