Category Archives: Travel with kids

It’s quiet. A little TOO quiet.

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Today was the big day. Not back to school – that was last week. Today was the day we were slated to get the hardwood installed. It was no mean feat getting ready for the installation, given that we were out of town for the long weekend. All moveable items were moved, all clothing, toys, and breakable items stashed in the basement. Then this morning we got the phone call that they were delayed and wouldn’t start until tomorrow.

Sigh.

I was under the expectation that I would drop the boys off – Jake’s first full morning of kindergarten after last week’s frantic pace of staggered entry – and then I would come home to chaos and noise and instead it is so very quiet. Even the dog is still at the kennel. I’m lonely. And I’m also unable to find anything, and I keep bumping into things.

This is the view of my office right now. Halp.


We were in Saskatchewan this weekend, visiting with my grandparents. My grandfather turned 96 on Saturday, which is quite a feat, I think. Last year there was a huge family reunion for his 95th birthday, which was initially supposed to be somewhat of a surprise party, much to my strong disapproval. Who thinks that a surprise party is a good idea for a 95 year old man? NOT ME. Anyway, at the reunion last year I had the sad feeling that it would be the last time I would see my grandfather – he was not doing particularly well and, in any case, he was 95. One does not buy green bananas when one is 95. But here he is! He looked great and was in good spirits and I was very happy we had made the trip. Plus my grandma made a scrumptious lemon poppyseed chiffon cake, of which I ate slice after slice.

One thing about travelling with kids is that it can be exhausting. We stayed in a hotel and so the kids were WIRED and no one was sleeping particularly well, with the obvious result that we were all a bit crabby when we started the two hour drive to the airport yesterday morning. A mere ten minutes into the drive, Jake morphed into a surly little goblin, “This is taking FOREVER. When are we going to be HOME? I’M NOT TIRED. I JUST WANT TO GO HOME. THIS CAR IS MAKING ME HOMESICK.” We listened to this diatribe many, many times. I stared out the window at the unvarying landscape of flooded fields and pumpjacks, all the while thinking “I can see for miles and miles. I can see for miles and miles. I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles.”

So how was your long weekend? I’m feeling kind of blah today, tell me something good?

Are we there yet…are we there yet…are we there yet…

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I spent nine and a half hours in the minivan today! We’ve been on vacation for the past week, and this morning we left at six to get a nice early start. After less than four hours of driving, we pulled into Golden BC, which is approximately three hours from home. Wow, we said to each other, this is a record! Less than four hours to Golden! We’ll be home so early!

Immediately after that we came across a tragic, horrific accident that subsequently shut the highway down for over two hours. This is where my number one piece of parenting advice becomes relevant in the extreme: ALWAYS HAVE EXTRA SNACKS.

So, nine and a half hours. What is it about car travel? It’s not strenuous. I spent the time sitting, basically, and alternating between doling out sandwiches, changing DVD’s, and occasionally stretching around the back seat to retrieve errant Bakugan balls. It’s not that challenging. However, I look like I spent the day pulling a rickshaw containing an entire family in the middle of the rainforest: tendrils of hair wildly escaping the ponytail, harassed and exhausted expression on face, clothing inexplicably stained. I looked in a mirror and gasped a little, startled. Plus, there’s the little matter of the pimple.

On my (very lovely) vacation I developed a pimple on my jawline. Big deal, right? I would not have cared, really, except that Someone Who Shall Remain Nameless pointed it out to me. “What IS that horrible blemish on your face?” I don’t know about you, but if I notice a pimple on someone’s face, I most certainly don’t comment on it. I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me. Then, in a misguided attempt to soften the blow, the comment after that was something to the effect that I have a lovely complexion, really, except for the horrible blemish. Like instead of a pimple I contracted a particularly horrible strain of leprosy and was suddenly missing my nose.

Anyway, my vacation was lovely with the exception of the pimple and my irrevocably damaged self esteem. There was much sunshine and beach time and enough delicious food and beer to make me think that perhaps I should go on a cleanse to counteract all this eating, drinking, and being merry. I shall tell you all about it but for now I am going to relax with a glass of wine. Perhaps I will start that cleanse tomorrow.

The flight

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As I mentioned earlier, I am just back from a warm vacation, notable because it was the first big vacation with the kids. Generally we are the road-trippers to see in-laws, or short-flighters to see my grandparents. I have to admit that the reason we haven’t had any big vacations with the kids prior to now was due to my extreme reluctance to take small children on flights with a greater than one hour duration, as well as my extreme exhaustion at the idea of caring for and entertaining small children in unfamiliar surroundings. However, they are older now and I thought that this would be the year to start, and it turns out, I was right. Don’t you love when that happens?

Traveling with a four and five year old is not bad at all, and I’m not just saying that because, on the airplane, my husband sat in the middle seat between them while I lounged in lonely bliss across the aisle. It pays to be the uncool parent that no one wants to sit beside. The flight was significantly easier on the way home, given that the Palm Springs airport has a separate express security line for passengers traveling with children. A more brilliant idea would, in my opinion, be difficult to come across.

This is not to say that the flight down was difficult. We actually arrived at the airport twenty minutes before the rush, so we sailed through customs and security. The super friendly security guy chatted with me as he went through my carryon which contained the eclectic mom-like combination of peanut butter sandwiches, camera, makeup, and a potty seat. He even mentioned that the flight we would be on would have the Teletoon channel, which caused a great deal of excitement and conjectures with regards to what programs would be on at this time of day, only to end in disappointment at the discovery that the brand new plane we boarded had yet to be equipped with televisions. Oh, the humanity! We were seated at the front of the plane and each and every passenger commented on this travesty as they filed past us.

The flight itself went great, despite having to rely on archaic forms of entertainment such as books and markers, and also in spite of it being delayed 50 minutes while waiting for connecting passengers to go through security. Heavy fog had delayed a connecting flight from Edmonton, and the latecomers had to endure the withering stares and extraneous mutterings of “Oilers suck!” from the other passengers as they sheepishly boarded.

But then we landed! In another country! And the boys were thrilled every second to be somewhere different, and every difference was noted, no matter how small (Scooby Doo gummies have different packaging than in Canada) or large (palm trees). Here is their reaction upon seeing flowers at the airport upon arrival:

I’m Baaaacccckkkk!

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I’m back from six days in Palm Desert, CA, and it was such a great trip: warmth and sunshine, and copious eating, drinking, and being merry. I have many fun stories but mostly I just want to say that this was our first big trip with the kids and it was a happy success. The best thing about travelling with kids is watching their world vision expand. After getting off the plane, the boys were absolutely fascinated that there were flowers! Growing! And they were wearing t-shirts! And there was grass! And palm trees! And I have many things to say and I want to visit all of your blogs but the siren song of laundry and unpacking is calling me….so a longer post is coming after I have waded through those duties.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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So after my pity party on Thursday, I really did sulk and drink wine and the next morning the travel advisories were lifted and we decided to make the trip! It was a great trip, the only snag being that Jake left a stegasaurus in the Tim Horton’s at Sicamous, and when we went there on the way home it was, of course, gone. Prior to this information, Jake was incredibly agitated – would it be there? Would someone have taken it? – but he seemed to get a great deal of closure on the discovery that it was gone forever.

Missing stegasauruses notwithstanding, the weekend was a success. My mother-in-law made a ham and a turkey, and carnivorous Jake was in his glory. Mark and his dad kept busy with their drivers and an old bucket of golf balls, and me? I pretty much ate my body weight in Macintosh apples and Concord grapes. A very successful weekend.
That’s me with a giant mouthful of grapes.

I have much to be thankful for this weekend and always, and I have a much more thoughtful post coming to that effect, but for now I’m drowning in laundry and the unpacking process. Happy Thanksgiving!

Boo

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Tomorrow morning we planned to get up early and drive to the Okanagan for the Thanksgiving weekend. I love the Okanagan. I love its beauty, its climate, and most of all, its food. If I lived there, I would be a very smug locavore. Since we planned this trip, months ago, I have been thinking of eating Concord grapes straight off the vine at my in-laws, and fresh Macintosh apples. I have actually been thinking about it for months. Grapes and apples.

I spent the entire day preparing for the drive: laundry, groceries, packing, baking snacks and making sandwiches. The whole day. But then a cold front came in with lots of snow and ice and – travel not recommended in the mountains. Boo. We had to cancel the trip.

The boys took the news remarkably well. But I’m disappointed. I think I’m going to go drink some wine and sulk a bit.

The store in Yellow Grass is actually called "The Store in Yellow Grass"

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I just returned from a weekend in Estevan, Saskatchewan, celebrating my grandfather’s 95th birthday! The birthday itself was wonderful, such a joy for my grandparents to have so much family and friends around. It was great to see all of my cousins, who I see rarely, and many of whom now have families of their own, which is touching and beautiful.

It was the first time ever that we stayed in a hotel with the boys, and despite the fact that our hotel was mostly inhabited by rig workers – several of whom witnessed me, disheveled, braless, and in my pajamas getting coffee from the lobby and then looked away quickly and silently – it was really fun. Fun until the trip home today.

We were delayed in the Regina airport for three hours, which is a very long time to be stuck in the Regina airport. A very long time. Since we had already driven two hours to get to the airport, the day started to feel long indeed. Jake began to morph into some kind of enraged little demon, ranting sporadically about not liking ANYTHING AT ALL, and Mark started to unravel. “How many minutes until the plane is here? How many minutes until we are on the plane? How many minutes until we will be at home? Okay, I’m ready to go. When are we getting on the plane?” I started fantasizing about drinking heavily.

Perspective, Nicole. Really, traveling with kids is not that bad these days, is it? I mean, when I was a kid we used to drive ten solid hours from Calgary to Estevan and back several times a year, which was inevitably hell, what with me in the backseat of a sedan with two brothers and a dog (“Stop touching me! He’s looking at me!”), my mother who would either be smoking heavily or in nicotine withdrawal, and my father driving, grim-faced and fanatical looking (“We are going to get x miles to the gallon.”). The highlight of the trip would be eating Life Savers. Looking out any window, the vista was field after endless field, punctuated by pumpjacks and small towns with names like Yellow Grass and Drinkwater. Compared with those memories, I think my kids have it pretty good.

Now, how many minutes until bedtime?