A few weeks ago, we returned home from our bi-annual Christmas trip to Nebraska. Although we took a vast number of photos, in typical fashion, we haven’t gone through them yet. For now, all we have to share is a brief video.
At some point since our last holiday trip to Norfolk, it seems that the airlines have restructured their routes so that the relatively convenient flight we used to take, which delivered us from San José to Omaha via Denver, no longer exists. Instead, we were presented with an array of unappealing options with stops in relatively out-of-the-way places like Minneapolis, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. Ultimately, we chose a route that originated in San Francisco and stopped in Dallas. Total travel time was longer than we were accustomed to, but the kids got a kick out of seeing two new airports.
Actually, saying that they got a kick out of it might be overstating their excitement a bit. Ten minutes into the hourlong drive to SFO (and just after we passed the San José airport), Joe asked whether we were almost there. That said, both of the older kids were suitably impressed by the relatively grand scale of the terminal in San Francisco.
Dallas was fun for everyone because we got to take the train between our arrival and departure terminals, which were spread out over the approximately 1,600 square miles of the airport. William was especially excited to be able to ride the “toot–toot,” and he didn’t seem fazed by the fact that it didn’t particularly resemble Thomas the Tank Engine.
Side note: on the way home, which also took us through Dallas, it was immediately clear which state we were in when, as soon as we deplaned, we were faced with a sign that read, “Shopping is bigger in Texas,” and a information desk staffed by a white–haired gentleman in a cowboy hat.
We arrived in Omaha mid–evening and, after picking up our rented minivan, headed directly to Norfolk. We made it to Julie’s mother’s house at a relatively reasonable hour once the time change was factored in, and got the kids tucked into bed without too much fuss.
The weather was dry and the ground was clear when we arrived, and the kids had plenty of time to scope out the creek and open space behind Grandma’s house, though they were a bit disappointed that there wasn’t any snow. On Christmas Eve, however, snow started to fall, much to everyone’s excitement. The blanket of white stuff did little to deter the older kids from further exploration: Joe discovered a small retention pond a few houses down, which he insisted was a lake, and Julia somehow managed to fall into the creek three times in one day.
After Christmas, Julia and Joe were extremely eager to try their hands at sledding. To kids growing up in California with parents who, unlike the vast majority of their peers, don’t know how to snowboard or ski, the whole concept is highly novel. On what turned out to be an especially blustery afternoon, we took all three kids out to Skyview Park for a few trips down the hill, as seen in the video. We lasted longer than I expected—I thought I was going to lose a finger trying to hold the camera without my gloves—and everyone had fun, including William, who seemed to enjoy the idea of throwing snow at me as much as anything else. Apparently, all the time we spent reading Snow by P.D. Eastman and Roy McKie paid off.
In fact, Joe enjoyed it so much that he begged and pleaded for us to go again the next afternoon. Julia and William demurred, but I took Joe back to the park for a second go. This time, I elected to stay in the warm van while he played in the snow, but he did just fine on his own. True, he was in tears by the time he finished and returned to the car, crying that he was cold and wanted to go home to California, but I don’t think that in any way diminishes the fact that he enjoyed himself right up to the point where he decided he was going to freeze to death.
Christmas itself was the usual blur of presents and food. As usual, the kids were excited about their gifts: Joe received a Lego TARDIS set, which he insisted on starting right away, and Julia dove right into reading The Martian, which originally interested her because she’d heard it contained a lot of swearing—which it does—and plowed right through it in the space of a few days. As a reward, we let both kids see the considerably less profane film version this past weekend.
William was, by and large, happy and excited to be there. He’s definitely starting to get the knack of the present thing, though, and is more than happy to help unwrap others’ gifts as well as his own. He was easygoing and well–behaved more or less the entire trip, including all four flights.
Going in, we knew we were in for a bit of trouble on the way home, as our flight was scheduled to arrive around 10:30 in the evening after a late afternoon departure. It was windy and snowy the morning we left, and the forecast called for significant snow in Omaha, so we left Norfolk before noon, hoping to avoid any delays that might cause us to miss our flight.
As it turns out, we needn’t have worried about the drive, as our flight to Dallas was delayed significantly. It could have been worse, though: we still made it out in time to catch our connection in Dallas, whereas some families were told that their flights had been canceled and that they would not be able to travel for days.
Things went from bad to worse in Dallas, however. The area, including the airport, was still recovering from a series of severe storms that had swept through over the preceding days, and our flight was delayed several times, largely (and frustratingly) without explanation. We finally arrived back in San Francisco after midnight local time, which made it past 2:00 for the kids. Julia and William napped on the plane, but Joe somehow managed to stay awake the entire time, finally passing out on the ten-minute shuttle bus ride to long term parking with Julie to pick up our car.
In the meantime, Julia and I waited with William at the curb outside the baggage claim, watching people flout the no-stopping rules and listening to an irate man who seemed to have lost a bag, forgotten to arrange for ground transportation, or otherwise failed to anticipate one of the many ways a trip can go wrong, repeatedly scream the f-word at the top of his lungs. Having just read The Martian, at least she was prepared.
Video: Christmas 2015.
Occasional Dispatches from San Jose 