Our grandchildren have come to our Killington lodge to spend a week with “Gammy and Papa.”
Cora Irene (2 1/2 years old) joined brother Silas who just turned 8 in mid-July.
Silas has his dad’s disposition—calm, centered and often serene — but his toddler sister is strong and defiant, very determined and cute as a button. She chatters constantly; we understand 10%. Her activity level is off the chart. Her favorite book is “Goodnight Moon” but it doesn’t help at nap or bedtime.
Cora’s a challenge for Gammy and Papa. Part of our problem is memory-related. We’re in our 70s with issues galore. We can’t recall where we left our own keys, and Cora’s main passion is to move things around—hidden treasures, tooth and hair brushes, puzzle pieces, vitamins, books, Papa’s shoe horn, tv controls, and his precious iPhone.
No matter how high the object is, Cora climbs or crawls so she can reach it.
“Put it back where it belongs,” Papa retorts to no avail. The disarray leaves him flustered. “No wonder parents are younger,” I mutter.
Yet, Cora helped unload the dishwasher, placed plates and cups in their correct spots. She’s precocious and truly adorable, but even Silas gets worn out.
We reached a point of utter exhaustion with a house in chaos and disarray. After a couple of active pool days where Cora jumped fearlessly off the steps, we sought a safer solution for survival.
Hallelujah—Wonderfeet Kids’ Musem, the answer to grandparents’ sheer exhaustion when caring for grandkids (while quite out of practice.) We took Silas and Cora at the end of the week when Papa and I needed a break. Its new address is 66 Merchants Row. We entered a bigger and better version of kids’ heaven-on-earth that opened May 6 with its majestic array of colorful adventures that await.
Silas and Cora disappeared as they ran to explore their favorite things. The big furry cow caught my eye as she grazed by hay bales on the dairy farm. Milk her if you dare from the three legged stool. I liked the rocking chairs on the farmhouse porch.
Engineer Silas, lifelong train aficionado, was drawn to the cab and passenger car. We paid our fare at the ticket booth then hopped aboard Silas’ Orient Express. He greeted us with “Bonjour“ and spoke with an accent as he catered to our whims with café au lait and lavish meals—salad, mussels, croissants and desserts he prepared at the gourmet diner down the street. The farmer’s market assured fresh produce. Chef Silas’ creations were delectable like his chef dad’s culinary creations.
Two near disasters were averted by Engineer Silas and his colleague—a potential explosion of the engine and a tsunami that nearly washed us away. Papa and I were too tired to evacuate but fortunately the train was in excellent hands.
Meanwhile Cora discovered the credit union vault and made change on the wall of the bank. A computer keyboard was quite enticing, then she thrilled driving Casella’s garbage truck. Its recycling bin helps teach young minds.
I used to remain at the old museum’s craft table, cutting, stamping and pasting away, but this time I never reached the back room where an art studio awaits creative tykes.
Our week together at our lodge in Vermont is nearly over and we are worn out, but visiting the Wonderfeet Kids’ Museum is an activity we’re sure to repeat. Additional interactive exhibitions will be added in the near future—a Killington inspired mountain experience, and a robot sure to surprise and delight. Rutland is blessed with this rich resource that inspires imaginations and boosts parents and grandparents.
Marguerite Jill Dye is an artist and writer who divides her time between Vermont and Florida.
