Kent's project time was quickly drawing to a close, and it was time to start planning the trip from California to Missouri for Christmas. Anyone who has driven I-40 in the winter knows to check out the weather ahead of time, and that's what we did. There was a storm system developing, and Kent didn't want to take any chances of getting stranded with a baby (he had been stuck in a snowstorm going across Wyoming once), so December 20 he put Lindsay and I on a plane to Kansas City, to be met by my parents.
So here I go - my first commercial flight - carrying a three-month old, a carseat, plus coats, blankets, and a fifty pound diaper bag. Knowing there was a possibility of getting delayed in Denver, we had bought a couple cans of formula and I was loaded with plenty of diapers and extra clothes. (Thank goodness for front-packs! My mom said every picture she saw, her granddaughter was in that front-pack.) Kent "should" only be three days behind us, so I didn't bother with another suitcase.
We left Orange County at 7:00 a.m., of course had to go from one end of Denver Int'l to the other to transfer flights (not totally, but it seemed that way), and got into Kansas City with no problems - other than it was 65 degrees when we left, and -18 degrees when we landed! Dad and Mom were there waiting, and we went to my aunt's house for lunch and a visit before driving the four hours to Lebanon. It was a long, but blessedly uneventful, trip.
Kent had some things to finish up in California and started driving east later that day (Tuesday). He called that night to say he was in Flagstaff. Wednesday night he called and said he was "a little past Amarillo", so I was quite surprised when he showed up the next morning. He had actually been almost to Tulsa, and drove straight through. And then slept a lot.
Christmas Eve was at my aunt's house. Since she had three little grandchildren, she arranged for Santa to visit after dinner. I'm not sure what my favorite picture is from that night - Lindsay with her great-grandmother, our four generation picture, or the one with my mom sitting on Santa's lap (but she was holding the baby!)
We didn't stay too long. We wanted to get back to Christmas with Missi and Kathi and Kent's folks. Traveling was slow, and we arrived home to a note from Kent's mom, saying they had waited at the house for awhile, but had given up and gone home and would see us the next day. Oh, and we had mice.
So Kent scrubbed while I held the baby. I don't do mice (or spiders, or snakes....)
So here I go - my first commercial flight - carrying a three-month old, a carseat, plus coats, blankets, and a fifty pound diaper bag. Knowing there was a possibility of getting delayed in Denver, we had bought a couple cans of formula and I was loaded with plenty of diapers and extra clothes. (Thank goodness for front-packs! My mom said every picture she saw, her granddaughter was in that front-pack.) Kent "should" only be three days behind us, so I didn't bother with another suitcase.
We left Orange County at 7:00 a.m., of course had to go from one end of Denver Int'l to the other to transfer flights (not totally, but it seemed that way), and got into Kansas City with no problems - other than it was 65 degrees when we left, and -18 degrees when we landed! Dad and Mom were there waiting, and we went to my aunt's house for lunch and a visit before driving the four hours to Lebanon. It was a long, but blessedly uneventful, trip.
Kent had some things to finish up in California and started driving east later that day (Tuesday). He called that night to say he was in Flagstaff. Wednesday night he called and said he was "a little past Amarillo", so I was quite surprised when he showed up the next morning. He had actually been almost to Tulsa, and drove straight through. And then slept a lot.
Christmas Eve was at my aunt's house. Since she had three little grandchildren, she arranged for Santa to visit after dinner. I'm not sure what my favorite picture is from that night - Lindsay with her great-grandmother, our four generation picture, or the one with my mom sitting on Santa's lap (but she was holding the baby!)
We didn't stay too long. We wanted to get back to Christmas with Missi and Kathi and Kent's folks. Traveling was slow, and we arrived home to a note from Kent's mom, saying they had waited at the house for awhile, but had given up and gone home and would see us the next day. Oh, and we had mice.
So Kent scrubbed while I held the baby. I don't do mice (or spiders, or snakes....)
