Last night, we had dinner over at the Nedunchelian's house. Bharath is my boss at work -- technically, he is an Initiative Manager which the rest of the world calls a project manager. Anyhow, he is a very nice guy and he invited the team over for dinner. So, our family (kids included) came over as well as Joe Warmelink and Chris Yoder. Joe did not come with his wife and Chris is in the midst of the dating scene still -- he is only a year or so removed from college.
The food was great. Bharath's wife -- whose name I won't even attempt to type -- made a fantastic meal of Indian food. She prepared about six different dishes. Each was excellent and the spicing was very good; spicy but not hiccup inducing for me.
The boys played very well with Bharath's children. Luca -- who was very tired on the way over --warmed quickly to Bharath's son Ritwick (sp.?) who was very happy to have friends over. The two of them played together pretty much the rest of the night -- about 3 hours.
Mateos took an hour or so to decide he wanted to be involved in the action. At first, he just played with a huge bouncy ball by himself for awhile. But once he joined in, he had an excellent time too. One of the more amusing moments of the evening came when Mateos asked Ritwick his name. Mateos didn't understand it the first time so he had him repeat it. I was standing there and I did not want Mateos to say something that might make Ritwick feel uncomfortable so I told Mateos "Ritwick is Indian. It is not an unusual name for an Indian boy." Mateos looked at Ritwick, pointed and said with some amount of amazement -- "your Indian?" Apparently, he has not yet picked up on the common physical characteristics of Indians.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Mateos's Christmas funny....
Mateos reminded me of this Christmas moment the other day when he tried to re-use his line....
We were at Maral's house and all the adults were seated around her dining room table finishing off some pizza. The kids were running ramshackle in the basement and occasionally on the first floor. There was some noise (indicative of a physical disagreement) and moment later Mateos appeared and recounted how Luca had wronged him somehow and hit him, etc. I was too moribund from eating to be motivated to do anything but ask Mateos if he could just let it go this time and keep playing. Mateos was good natured about it if a little disappointed. After a second's consideration he turned around and started to trot back to where everyone was playing. As he did so he called over his shoulder "I'll remember this in therapy."
That left most of the adults in a moment of disbelief -- 'did he really just say that?' -- and a small amount of hysterics. Upon question later, he told Lu and I it was something he had heard on SpongeBob.
We were at Maral's house and all the adults were seated around her dining room table finishing off some pizza. The kids were running ramshackle in the basement and occasionally on the first floor. There was some noise (indicative of a physical disagreement) and moment later Mateos appeared and recounted how Luca had wronged him somehow and hit him, etc. I was too moribund from eating to be motivated to do anything but ask Mateos if he could just let it go this time and keep playing. Mateos was good natured about it if a little disappointed. After a second's consideration he turned around and started to trot back to where everyone was playing. As he did so he called over his shoulder "I'll remember this in therapy."
That left most of the adults in a moment of disbelief -- 'did he really just say that?' -- and a small amount of hysterics. Upon question later, he told Lu and I it was something he had heard on SpongeBob.
Monday, January 14, 2008
An evening like many others....
The 5:30 PM phone call from Luciana. First on the Florida cell phone. Since I was in a meeting, I immediately sent it to voice mail. The phone beeped and let me know that she actually left a voice mail. (A rare event indeed for the impatient one.) A minute later, the work cell phone rang. Apparently, she wanted to tell me something. I excused myself from the meeting and found out she had made ground chicken, refried beans and farofa. What time would I be home? she asked. Well, for good food there is no time like the present so I packed up and left immediately...
Twelve minutes later I was at the garage door. I turned off the engine and sidled awkwardly out of the door. As per my usual, I had parked close to the side of the garage to leave more room on the passenger side for getting my work bag out. Walk around the car, open passenger door, extract work bag filled with books which I have only a 50% chance of needing tonight.
I stepped inside the garage door and listened expectantly for the sounds of the boys careening around the house, slapping each other or the noise of the tv and the familiar voice of SpongeBob. Today, nothing much going on up above. Sometimes I get home to cries of "Dad-dy! Dad-dy!" followed by the rush of feet and the quick bubbling of stories about a new animal seen on tv or a friend who had wronged them during the day. Some days, I have to wave my hand in front of their face in a bid for attention. And even then (and this happened just the other day) a few minutes later when they emerge from their television induced catatonic state I receive a "Dad, your home!?" Yes, and thank you for noticing.
I kicked off my shoes into the 'shoe box' that Luciana uses tidy the landing. I could already smell the garlic that must be part of those beautiful refried beans and I accelerated my ascent up the staircase. "BOO!" yelled Mateos jumping up and flailing his arms out just as I rounded the corner. My heart skipped a few beats and I flinched like a man about to be struck. Naturally, Mateos was overjoyed and his face lit up with a huge grin and the predictable question of "I scared you really good, didn't I?" followed.
Not very shockingly, two steps later I could see Luca charging at me from 10 or so feet away. When he came close he too yelled 'boo'; I gave a half-hearted performance of being vaguely scared and he bemoaned his lack of total success with an 'awww...' and tromped away a little disappointed. I made a mental note to raise the energy level of my performance the next time, even if he is getting a bit old for that.
The scaring now done for the evening, we settled into dinner. Dinner followed its usual course with Luca first declaring that he only liked corn when it is still attached to the cob and smothered in butter and Mateos chiming in with a well-intentioned brown-nose remark of "I love corn." For my part, I only heard part of the conversations as my mind was still a little bit at work and my stomach was fully engaged with devouring the food.
The food was particularly good; a home cooked meal is not an everyday occurrence at our place and I truly enjoy them. I like to usually kick up the food a little and so I liberally sprinkled Tobasco sauce in a zig-zag pattern across the food for a little extra. Like clockwork, Luca requested some of the 'spicy red sauce' for him. I let two drops drip into his food which he claimed wasn't enough. As per the usual negotiation, the terms were laid out: if he were to eat the first few bites with the Tobasco and enjoy it, I'd provide him with a few more drops. So, he eagerly downed a few bites and demanded fulfillment of the terms. I dutifully dropped a few more into his bowl.
Meanwhile, Mateos had finished wolfing down his bowl and was displaying the emptied container to Luciana and I while requesting dessert. We would have preferred he wait until we were all done but since we choose not to use up our patience to withstand the constant "are you done yet", "how about now" and its infinite variations we don't protest and he careens from the table to the pantry in a blur of motion.
Seeing Mateos bolt to get desert, Luca immediately asked if his one third eaten bowl was enough to merit dessert. Permission denied, Luca slowly dipped his spoon back into the plate. "This is too hot! Why did you put the spicy sauce on my spoon!?" And so the second attempt at getting out of finishing his bowl had commenced. Frankly, he and Mateos both pull this one so frequently that it barely registers an eyebrow raise from Lu or I and I am not even sure if we bothered to respond. We were on Pavlovian auto-response at this point.
Dinner did eventually complete, each boy gleefully ate his dessert and then unsuccessfully petitioned for more. Soon after, they engaged each other in various games ranging from the benign -- reading maps and asking questions about "what's your favorite animal" to "what instrument should I play" -- to dragging each other around at high-speeds on the red wagon and flipping each other perilously close to walls and furniture corners.
After Lu and I finished dinner and cleaning up, the final round of homework was initiated. The boys generally do some amount of homework an hour or so after arriving home but inevitably there is a bit left for later in the evening. Plus, it is a great deal easier to get the homework done when both parents are around so we can each pair off. Without this arrangement, the individual left to his own devices generally contrives a way to garner your attention in a negative fashion that tends to include loud noise or distractedly flitting about the brother who is actually supposed to be working.
Tonight, I paired up with Luca and Luciana with Mateos. Both did very well on their work. Luca is doing a fantastic job with learning to read and he and I worked on that. It is adorable to hear him sound out the words and even more enjoyable is watching him stare heavenward as he contemplates what word the sounds he just stuttered out actually make. It is positively incredible to me that he is able to figure it out nearly all the time.
At 8:00 PM the kitchen timer sounded and the moaning began as the first steps of getting ready for bed were scheduled to commence. Mateos immediately invoked a good 15-minute procrastination -- the late evening poop. Thankfully, he did not try to produce this gambit at 8:30 when we would be putting him into actual bed. That particular tactic had at one time been successful for him but the repeated use of it had led to high stakes poker between he and the parents. Eventually, it became a high-stakes game -- if he is not able to produce the goods, he loses dessert rights for the following day.
Mateos follows the great tradition of most Norian men in leisurely basking in his toilet time. The toilet is a place of great thinking and creative imaging; a place for book reading and most importantly a place to monopolize the time (and offend the olfactory) of a parent. So, it was not long after applying his bottom to the seat did he call out to me and ask me to sit and talk with him. Recently, we have been working to lessen this dependence so I deflected by mentioning that boys at camp do not have counselors sit with them in the bathroom and that instead I would supply him with a book.
Luca, at this time, was involved in his favorite foot dragging technique -- the constant repetition of the "I'm too tired" mantra. Luca is generally too tired to take off his shirt, take off his pants, put on his pajamas or generally perform any other night time duty. There is no proven, time tested parental response to this that strikes the balance of actually getting him to actually perform these simple tasks that does not require patience, helping him significantly or turning him into a crying heap by means of yelling or forceful assistance. It is not that it can't be done but that he is creative in adapting and defending against the last known successful tact. Tonight, he was nearly cheery in getting ready and only offered up a few token "I'm too tired(s)" Truly, the hallmark of a good mood for the little guy.
Eventually -- and a good 20 minutes definitely passed and new books were brought in mid-way through -- Mateos completed his business and Luca and he completed their bedtime chores of teeth brushing and peeing (Mom is a bit of a stickler on this last point. It does not matter that you may have gone to the bathroom merely seconds earlier. You are required to make one more attempt at evacuation before bed. Mom does not like to be unnecessarily interrupted during sleeping hours and this is a safeguard.)
The boys were laid down. Goodnight hugs and kisses were enjoyed by all and the door semi-closed. Two minutes and ten minutes later we were called in for some made-up reason or another. Each time you go in, listen to the complaint/fear, offer a semi-helpful remedy and leave.
Twelve minutes later I was at the garage door. I turned off the engine and sidled awkwardly out of the door. As per my usual, I had parked close to the side of the garage to leave more room on the passenger side for getting my work bag out. Walk around the car, open passenger door, extract work bag filled with books which I have only a 50% chance of needing tonight.
I stepped inside the garage door and listened expectantly for the sounds of the boys careening around the house, slapping each other or the noise of the tv and the familiar voice of SpongeBob. Today, nothing much going on up above. Sometimes I get home to cries of "Dad-dy! Dad-dy!" followed by the rush of feet and the quick bubbling of stories about a new animal seen on tv or a friend who had wronged them during the day. Some days, I have to wave my hand in front of their face in a bid for attention. And even then (and this happened just the other day) a few minutes later when they emerge from their television induced catatonic state I receive a "Dad, your home!?" Yes, and thank you for noticing.
I kicked off my shoes into the 'shoe box' that Luciana uses tidy the landing. I could already smell the garlic that must be part of those beautiful refried beans and I accelerated my ascent up the staircase. "BOO!" yelled Mateos jumping up and flailing his arms out just as I rounded the corner. My heart skipped a few beats and I flinched like a man about to be struck. Naturally, Mateos was overjoyed and his face lit up with a huge grin and the predictable question of "I scared you really good, didn't I?" followed.
Not very shockingly, two steps later I could see Luca charging at me from 10 or so feet away. When he came close he too yelled 'boo'; I gave a half-hearted performance of being vaguely scared and he bemoaned his lack of total success with an 'awww...' and tromped away a little disappointed. I made a mental note to raise the energy level of my performance the next time, even if he is getting a bit old for that.
The scaring now done for the evening, we settled into dinner. Dinner followed its usual course with Luca first declaring that he only liked corn when it is still attached to the cob and smothered in butter and Mateos chiming in with a well-intentioned brown-nose remark of "I love corn." For my part, I only heard part of the conversations as my mind was still a little bit at work and my stomach was fully engaged with devouring the food.
The food was particularly good; a home cooked meal is not an everyday occurrence at our place and I truly enjoy them. I like to usually kick up the food a little and so I liberally sprinkled Tobasco sauce in a zig-zag pattern across the food for a little extra. Like clockwork, Luca requested some of the 'spicy red sauce' for him. I let two drops drip into his food which he claimed wasn't enough. As per the usual negotiation, the terms were laid out: if he were to eat the first few bites with the Tobasco and enjoy it, I'd provide him with a few more drops. So, he eagerly downed a few bites and demanded fulfillment of the terms. I dutifully dropped a few more into his bowl.
Meanwhile, Mateos had finished wolfing down his bowl and was displaying the emptied container to Luciana and I while requesting dessert. We would have preferred he wait until we were all done but since we choose not to use up our patience to withstand the constant "are you done yet", "how about now" and its infinite variations we don't protest and he careens from the table to the pantry in a blur of motion.
Seeing Mateos bolt to get desert, Luca immediately asked if his one third eaten bowl was enough to merit dessert. Permission denied, Luca slowly dipped his spoon back into the plate. "This is too hot! Why did you put the spicy sauce on my spoon!?" And so the second attempt at getting out of finishing his bowl had commenced. Frankly, he and Mateos both pull this one so frequently that it barely registers an eyebrow raise from Lu or I and I am not even sure if we bothered to respond. We were on Pavlovian auto-response at this point.
Dinner did eventually complete, each boy gleefully ate his dessert and then unsuccessfully petitioned for more. Soon after, they engaged each other in various games ranging from the benign -- reading maps and asking questions about "what's your favorite animal" to "what instrument should I play" -- to dragging each other around at high-speeds on the red wagon and flipping each other perilously close to walls and furniture corners.
After Lu and I finished dinner and cleaning up, the final round of homework was initiated. The boys generally do some amount of homework an hour or so after arriving home but inevitably there is a bit left for later in the evening. Plus, it is a great deal easier to get the homework done when both parents are around so we can each pair off. Without this arrangement, the individual left to his own devices generally contrives a way to garner your attention in a negative fashion that tends to include loud noise or distractedly flitting about the brother who is actually supposed to be working.
Tonight, I paired up with Luca and Luciana with Mateos. Both did very well on their work. Luca is doing a fantastic job with learning to read and he and I worked on that. It is adorable to hear him sound out the words and even more enjoyable is watching him stare heavenward as he contemplates what word the sounds he just stuttered out actually make. It is positively incredible to me that he is able to figure it out nearly all the time.
At 8:00 PM the kitchen timer sounded and the moaning began as the first steps of getting ready for bed were scheduled to commence. Mateos immediately invoked a good 15-minute procrastination -- the late evening poop. Thankfully, he did not try to produce this gambit at 8:30 when we would be putting him into actual bed. That particular tactic had at one time been successful for him but the repeated use of it had led to high stakes poker between he and the parents. Eventually, it became a high-stakes game -- if he is not able to produce the goods, he loses dessert rights for the following day.
Mateos follows the great tradition of most Norian men in leisurely basking in his toilet time. The toilet is a place of great thinking and creative imaging; a place for book reading and most importantly a place to monopolize the time (and offend the olfactory) of a parent. So, it was not long after applying his bottom to the seat did he call out to me and ask me to sit and talk with him. Recently, we have been working to lessen this dependence so I deflected by mentioning that boys at camp do not have counselors sit with them in the bathroom and that instead I would supply him with a book.
Luca, at this time, was involved in his favorite foot dragging technique -- the constant repetition of the "I'm too tired" mantra. Luca is generally too tired to take off his shirt, take off his pants, put on his pajamas or generally perform any other night time duty. There is no proven, time tested parental response to this that strikes the balance of actually getting him to actually perform these simple tasks that does not require patience, helping him significantly or turning him into a crying heap by means of yelling or forceful assistance. It is not that it can't be done but that he is creative in adapting and defending against the last known successful tact. Tonight, he was nearly cheery in getting ready and only offered up a few token "I'm too tired(s)" Truly, the hallmark of a good mood for the little guy.
Eventually -- and a good 20 minutes definitely passed and new books were brought in mid-way through -- Mateos completed his business and Luca and he completed their bedtime chores of teeth brushing and peeing (Mom is a bit of a stickler on this last point. It does not matter that you may have gone to the bathroom merely seconds earlier. You are required to make one more attempt at evacuation before bed. Mom does not like to be unnecessarily interrupted during sleeping hours and this is a safeguard.)
The boys were laid down. Goodnight hugs and kisses were enjoyed by all and the door semi-closed. Two minutes and ten minutes later we were called in for some made-up reason or another. Each time you go in, listen to the complaint/fear, offer a semi-helpful remedy and leave.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Travel Trauma
We hugged Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop goodbye on their front doorstep and bundled into the Airbrook car for our ride to Newark airport. The time was 2:45 PM EST. The mood was good. The sun was shining. However, we knew the sun was not shining in SF and Reno. A huge storm was expected and we were racing the clock -- if we didn't get to Reno by tonight/tomorrow morning early, we probably would not be able to until Sunday since they were expecting blizzard conditions in the mountains and I-80 would likely be shutdown and unpassable for a few days.
Despite a convoluted path charted by our driver (to avoid tolls, I am certain) we arrived at the airport in plenty of time and passed through security with minimal hassle and interruption. (Interestingly, the whole stripping of the metal and baring the feet mamba is becoming part of muscle memory at this point. It took 6 years but in another six I doubt I'll remember it any other way.)
The flight was to depart at 5:30 PM EST. We killed the hour before the flight's boarding time by perusing the bookstores, letting the kids run around a bit, and draining out the last bit of fluids from their bodies. Finally, it was boarding time and since we had wonderful seats in the very back of the airplane, we were in the first boarding group following the privileged in first class. Just as we were handing our boarding passes to the gate agent, the announcement was made that the flight was being delayed until 7:00 PM EST due to weather in San Francisco. Oh goody.
So, back we tromped to the food court area and ate things we weren't really hungry for but hopefully would help the time pass faster. At 6:30 PM, they boarded the plane again. Luciana and I assumed our regular positions -- Luciana next to the two boys and me on the other side of the aisle. She is the more accomplished entertainer in cramped spaces. I may be gung-ho for any outdoor activity they would like to do but I admit I am squeamish about having to actually interact while on a plane. I like to retreat into my shell and read, work on the laptop, sleep, watch a movie... basically, anything that does not require another person.
The flight was uneventful. It was 5.5 hours long so there was a number of "how much longer" queries and the occasional moment of irritation between the boys but they were relatively few and far between. In fact, they were great overall. We landed in Newark at approx. 9:30 PM EST.
We elbowed our way to a prime position around the baggage carousel, smarte cart at the ready. An hour and a half later, we had our bags. Yes, a full 90 minutes were required before we had all our bags thanks to the crack Continental staff who were clearly understaffed to handle the number of flights arriving. And so, we left the airport and waited for the airplane shuttle to take us to the hotel where we had left our car.
The airplane shuttle comes every 15 minutes, except when we are waiting for it. This time, we waited about 40 minutes. And Lu had to call the hotel twice to encourage them to page the driver. Anyway, we made a quick pit stop at the hotel. We were originally planning to spend the night and leave in the morning but with the impending storm, we had already decided to hoof it back tonight. Unfortunately, the hotel insisted on charging us for the room for the night so we did the quickest check-in and check-out in history. Checked in, used the bathroom, took everything that wasn't nailed down (hey, they were charging us for the night!) and then check-ed out and packed up the car and set out for Reno.
Luca was asleep before we left the hotel parking lot. It was about 12:15 AM PST at this point. Mateos claimed to be hungry so we found a McDonalds and ordered some nuggets, etc. When we turned around to ask him what he wanted at the drive through, he too was asleep. More food for us. After the drive through, we finally set out in earnest for Reno at 12:35 AM PST.
It was obviously pitch black at this point and there was occasional rain and some pretty strong wind gusts but nothing spectacular. We were making very good time and I was feeling pretty spry behind the wheel despite the long day so far. We crossed into Nevada and it looked like we would make it home by about 3:45 AM. Then we started seeing electronic signs warning us that chains would be required on I-80 in the mountain pass. Unfortunately, we did not have chains for the car but capitalism being ever present I was certain that there would be opportunistic individuals willing to sell us some despite the time of night.
We hit "Applegate" and there was a check-point there. It was now about 2:45 AM or so. The transportation official manning the site informed us that as of the current minute chains were not required but that was likely to change by the time would would hit the pass (about ~45 min. away) and he pointed out a place that sold chains (and the he undoubtedly received a cut from) and we dutifully went off and bought them from this total shack that was in the middle of nowhere. The man there read my tire numbers and handed me my chains and I parted ways with $61.
Back on the highway, we buzzed along feeling secure that we now had our chains but hopeful that we wouldn't have to use them and feeling a creeping sense of anxiety as we passed each sign warning of the blizzard conditions on the mountain pass. Sure enough, we soon started encountering snow and slushy roads. The slush caught the tires a number of times and caused the car to leer a little bit but nothing unusual or scary. Another 15 minutes and the snow was really picking up and the road conditions were deteriorating. The roads on this part of I-80 are full of curves and fairly steep up and downs. Plus, there are absolutely no street lights and so visibility is extremely limited. I was white knuckling the steering wheel for a good 20 minutes already by the time we hit the 'chain installation' way point.
Signs now informed us that chains were required and would be checked ahead. So, we pulled over at the chain installation service area and resigned ourselves to the fact that we would need to put them on. Having never, ever seen tire chains before in my life and not wanting to experiment with them on a high mountain pass I decided to pay for the installation service. I found one of the orange jump suited guys and asked for help. He said, sure, just to sit tight because he had two more cars to do and then he'd get to me.
I returned to the car and waited with Lu inside while the boys slept. The weather was literally worsening by the minute as we waited and Luciana was growing a tad impatient and was openly wondering whether we should 'go for it' and try to go without the chains before the weather became even worse. The roads didn't look any worse here than they had been for the last 10 miles or so and she was probably right that if we went less than 25 MPH we would be OK. But I was too nervous to try it. But after another half hour of waiting I was starting to wonder whether she was right.
I went out of the car again and froze my butt off talking to a trucker. Trucker's were in abundance. There was easily 40 rigs pulled over and putting on their chains. The trucker told me the chains were already required and anyway without them would be turned back. He seemed to know what he was talking about even though he looked *exactly* like the guy Stanley on the tv show The Office.
Well, the orange jumpsuit finally got to my car another 45 minutes later. The reason for the delay was obvious -- the dude could not stop chit-chatting with everyone and everybody who walked by. He clearly had no better place to be. So, after 5 minutes of useless introduction chit-chat were undoubtedly he sized me up as a rube he asked for my chains. He tossed them on the ground, took a quick look and quickly pronounced they were the wrong size. I of course told him that they should be the right size, that they were based on my tire size etc. He wouldn't have it and of course proclaimed they were soo big they would likely fall off.
I could feel the scam tightening. Orange jumpsuit and I went back and forth for a few minutes but he had done enough to make me a little nervous; the chains did look a little big and I really needed this guy to put them on since I had no idea how to do it safely. Being a real prince, orange jumpsuit offered to 'buy' my chains from me for the great price of $25 and give me a pair that fit correctly and only charge me $30 for installation. This fool and his money were parted with again. I didn't feel I had much of a choice at this point. We had to get moving and I had to get some damn chains installed.
Installing the chains took all of 5 minutes. I happily pulled away from the installation area and the jumpsuit rapist to the wonderful battering drone of my tire chains drumming away on the pavement. It was now about 4:15 AM. The snow was very heavy and I was very glad for the chains. We crept along going 20 MPH behind a crew of plow-trucks for about 11 miles. It was impossible to see anything on the road -- no lane markers, not the impending turns, nothing except for the reassuring glow of the orange lights of the snow plows. The snow plows turned off the road and we were left to our own devices for about 10 harrowing minutes. Thankfully, it was only a few miles later that we emerged from the difficult part of the mountain pass and reached the chain removal point.
Tired of subsidizing these scavenger birds drinking habits, I decided to forgo the organge jumpsuit assistance in removing the tire chains. After all, it didn't look very difficult. So, I jumped out of the car brimming with confidence. Unfortunately, I landed in about 3 inches of freezing cold, watery slush. After a moment of self-loathing and disgust, I slogged my way to the front of the car and removed the chains. Yes, it was so easy that even a blurry eyed incompetent at 5:30 AM in the morning can remove them without trouble.
Freezing feet and all, we got going with the last leg. By this time, I felt like Clark Griswald in Vacation. I'd been up now for about 20 hours and the constant squinting and peering through windshield had taken a toll. I was alert/awake but drained. Lu and the boys were off in drool land with their heads lolling about. At least Lu woke up every few minutes to ask me if I was OK.
The rest of the trip was uneventful. We pulled into the garage at 6:30 AM PST. We pulled the boys limp bodies from the car and plopped them clothed into bed. I peeled off my wet socks, washed my hands and fell into deep deep sleep.
Despite a convoluted path charted by our driver (to avoid tolls, I am certain) we arrived at the airport in plenty of time and passed through security with minimal hassle and interruption. (Interestingly, the whole stripping of the metal and baring the feet mamba is becoming part of muscle memory at this point. It took 6 years but in another six I doubt I'll remember it any other way.)
The flight was to depart at 5:30 PM EST. We killed the hour before the flight's boarding time by perusing the bookstores, letting the kids run around a bit, and draining out the last bit of fluids from their bodies. Finally, it was boarding time and since we had wonderful seats in the very back of the airplane, we were in the first boarding group following the privileged in first class. Just as we were handing our boarding passes to the gate agent, the announcement was made that the flight was being delayed until 7:00 PM EST due to weather in San Francisco. Oh goody.
So, back we tromped to the food court area and ate things we weren't really hungry for but hopefully would help the time pass faster. At 6:30 PM, they boarded the plane again. Luciana and I assumed our regular positions -- Luciana next to the two boys and me on the other side of the aisle. She is the more accomplished entertainer in cramped spaces. I may be gung-ho for any outdoor activity they would like to do but I admit I am squeamish about having to actually interact while on a plane. I like to retreat into my shell and read, work on the laptop, sleep, watch a movie... basically, anything that does not require another person.
The flight was uneventful. It was 5.5 hours long so there was a number of "how much longer" queries and the occasional moment of irritation between the boys but they were relatively few and far between. In fact, they were great overall. We landed in Newark at approx. 9:30 PM EST.
We elbowed our way to a prime position around the baggage carousel, smarte cart at the ready. An hour and a half later, we had our bags. Yes, a full 90 minutes were required before we had all our bags thanks to the crack Continental staff who were clearly understaffed to handle the number of flights arriving. And so, we left the airport and waited for the airplane shuttle to take us to the hotel where we had left our car.
The airplane shuttle comes every 15 minutes, except when we are waiting for it. This time, we waited about 40 minutes. And Lu had to call the hotel twice to encourage them to page the driver. Anyway, we made a quick pit stop at the hotel. We were originally planning to spend the night and leave in the morning but with the impending storm, we had already decided to hoof it back tonight. Unfortunately, the hotel insisted on charging us for the room for the night so we did the quickest check-in and check-out in history. Checked in, used the bathroom, took everything that wasn't nailed down (hey, they were charging us for the night!) and then check-ed out and packed up the car and set out for Reno.
Luca was asleep before we left the hotel parking lot. It was about 12:15 AM PST at this point. Mateos claimed to be hungry so we found a McDonalds and ordered some nuggets, etc. When we turned around to ask him what he wanted at the drive through, he too was asleep. More food for us. After the drive through, we finally set out in earnest for Reno at 12:35 AM PST.
It was obviously pitch black at this point and there was occasional rain and some pretty strong wind gusts but nothing spectacular. We were making very good time and I was feeling pretty spry behind the wheel despite the long day so far. We crossed into Nevada and it looked like we would make it home by about 3:45 AM. Then we started seeing electronic signs warning us that chains would be required on I-80 in the mountain pass. Unfortunately, we did not have chains for the car but capitalism being ever present I was certain that there would be opportunistic individuals willing to sell us some despite the time of night.
We hit "Applegate" and there was a check-point there. It was now about 2:45 AM or so. The transportation official manning the site informed us that as of the current minute chains were not required but that was likely to change by the time would would hit the pass (about ~45 min. away) and he pointed out a place that sold chains (and the he undoubtedly received a cut from) and we dutifully went off and bought them from this total shack that was in the middle of nowhere. The man there read my tire numbers and handed me my chains and I parted ways with $61.
Back on the highway, we buzzed along feeling secure that we now had our chains but hopeful that we wouldn't have to use them and feeling a creeping sense of anxiety as we passed each sign warning of the blizzard conditions on the mountain pass. Sure enough, we soon started encountering snow and slushy roads. The slush caught the tires a number of times and caused the car to leer a little bit but nothing unusual or scary. Another 15 minutes and the snow was really picking up and the road conditions were deteriorating. The roads on this part of I-80 are full of curves and fairly steep up and downs. Plus, there are absolutely no street lights and so visibility is extremely limited. I was white knuckling the steering wheel for a good 20 minutes already by the time we hit the 'chain installation' way point.
Signs now informed us that chains were required and would be checked ahead. So, we pulled over at the chain installation service area and resigned ourselves to the fact that we would need to put them on. Having never, ever seen tire chains before in my life and not wanting to experiment with them on a high mountain pass I decided to pay for the installation service. I found one of the orange jump suited guys and asked for help. He said, sure, just to sit tight because he had two more cars to do and then he'd get to me.
I returned to the car and waited with Lu inside while the boys slept. The weather was literally worsening by the minute as we waited and Luciana was growing a tad impatient and was openly wondering whether we should 'go for it' and try to go without the chains before the weather became even worse. The roads didn't look any worse here than they had been for the last 10 miles or so and she was probably right that if we went less than 25 MPH we would be OK. But I was too nervous to try it. But after another half hour of waiting I was starting to wonder whether she was right.
I went out of the car again and froze my butt off talking to a trucker. Trucker's were in abundance. There was easily 40 rigs pulled over and putting on their chains. The trucker told me the chains were already required and anyway without them would be turned back. He seemed to know what he was talking about even though he looked *exactly* like the guy Stanley on the tv show The Office.
Well, the orange jumpsuit finally got to my car another 45 minutes later. The reason for the delay was obvious -- the dude could not stop chit-chatting with everyone and everybody who walked by. He clearly had no better place to be. So, after 5 minutes of useless introduction chit-chat were undoubtedly he sized me up as a rube he asked for my chains. He tossed them on the ground, took a quick look and quickly pronounced they were the wrong size. I of course told him that they should be the right size, that they were based on my tire size etc. He wouldn't have it and of course proclaimed they were soo big they would likely fall off.
I could feel the scam tightening. Orange jumpsuit and I went back and forth for a few minutes but he had done enough to make me a little nervous; the chains did look a little big and I really needed this guy to put them on since I had no idea how to do it safely. Being a real prince, orange jumpsuit offered to 'buy' my chains from me for the great price of $25 and give me a pair that fit correctly and only charge me $30 for installation. This fool and his money were parted with again. I didn't feel I had much of a choice at this point. We had to get moving and I had to get some damn chains installed.
Installing the chains took all of 5 minutes. I happily pulled away from the installation area and the jumpsuit rapist to the wonderful battering drone of my tire chains drumming away on the pavement. It was now about 4:15 AM. The snow was very heavy and I was very glad for the chains. We crept along going 20 MPH behind a crew of plow-trucks for about 11 miles. It was impossible to see anything on the road -- no lane markers, not the impending turns, nothing except for the reassuring glow of the orange lights of the snow plows. The snow plows turned off the road and we were left to our own devices for about 10 harrowing minutes. Thankfully, it was only a few miles later that we emerged from the difficult part of the mountain pass and reached the chain removal point.
Tired of subsidizing these scavenger birds drinking habits, I decided to forgo the organge jumpsuit assistance in removing the tire chains. After all, it didn't look very difficult. So, I jumped out of the car brimming with confidence. Unfortunately, I landed in about 3 inches of freezing cold, watery slush. After a moment of self-loathing and disgust, I slogged my way to the front of the car and removed the chains. Yes, it was so easy that even a blurry eyed incompetent at 5:30 AM in the morning can remove them without trouble.
Freezing feet and all, we got going with the last leg. By this time, I felt like Clark Griswald in Vacation. I'd been up now for about 20 hours and the constant squinting and peering through windshield had taken a toll. I was alert/awake but drained. Lu and the boys were off in drool land with their heads lolling about. At least Lu woke up every few minutes to ask me if I was OK.
The rest of the trip was uneventful. We pulled into the garage at 6:30 AM PST. We pulled the boys limp bodies from the car and plopped them clothed into bed. I peeled off my wet socks, washed my hands and fell into deep deep sleep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)