...but these go to eleven: June 2008

A note to our loyal readers: due to the graphic nature of the following entry, there will be no photographic documentation. While the management acknowledges readers have become accustomed to a high degree of literary and visual achievement in this blog, we sincerely hope that you will be able to use your collective imaginations as I relive our coast to coast travels in gory detail.

The plan was simple enough:

book flights
pack bags
take shuttle to SFO
get on plane
go to sleep
wake up in Boston
car picks us up
sleep more
arrive in Nonquitt

Here is how things actually went:

went absolutely smoothly. Could not have been easier. From there, it went quickly downhill.
packing: you have no idea of the sheer volume of stuff a family of four with two six-month-olds, an obsessive, exercise addicted, video editing, mother of two can require for a month at the beach. Did you ever see the film "The Piano?" remember when they get dropped off at the beach from the ship? That is a pretty good visual of what we were dealing with. Granted, I have been virtually no help, as I have been working twice as much to wrap up at work before vacation.
Liz booked the door to door shuttle, however, she could not be blamed at all for how that turned out. She had reserved a van with two car seats and room for our plethora of bags as well as our double bike case. Yes, you heard right. We are bringing our bikes. And helmets. And shoes. And tools. And bike clothing. And I will have to take apart, pack and rebuild the bikes twice. The van arrives half an hour late because even though we provide a map, tell them that our house is hard to find and that there is another Cypress drive in our neighborhood that does not connect with our street, and that there is no cell phone reception once in the canyon, they always say they can they can find it and always end up on the wrong Cypress, which is also a dead end with no place for a big vehicle to turn around. When he finally does show up, we find that they do have two car seats, neither appropriate for six-month-olds, and neither installed. The driver does not know how to install the seats. I go to work on putting the seats in while he crams our luggage in the back. One seat goes in fairly well if not easily, but the other seat is missing parts, wobbly and I can not get it tightened at all well. We get Stormy in the way back seat with Liz and I put Rocko in the seat on the front bench. The straps are way too big for him and the seat just wobbles back and forth. So far, S&R are pretty good, despite it being their bed time. We are really late at this point. The driver roars off down the hill while I sit in the front turned around holding Rocko and his chair in place. The driver drives like a mad man, with no regard for our safety or the safety of anyone within a quarter of a mile of us. We are approaching the freeway, and I look forward just before he gets on the Richmond Bridge exit. I tell him: "we are going to SFO" As if he doesn't believe me he checks his paper before crossing three lanes of traffic without looking or signaling to get on 101 South. We arrive, miraculously in one piece.
We rush to get to the gate, and there is no one there. We think the plane may have already boarded, but in fact, it is delayed. Two hours. Getting through security with two kids who can't yet walk, diaper bags, computer bags, camera bag, collapsable stroller and four hands is not as easy as it sounds. Especially when security insists on swabbing the babies pajama feet for traces of explosives. Hanging around the gate with all the other East Coast transplant families taking the Red Eye was at least reassuring. We finally board. Cool thing about having twins number 1137: when you have two adults and two lap children on a plane, you are not allowed to sit in the same row. Even if your tickets are booked like that months in advance. And they both clearly read "lap infant" next to your seat number. Because there are only four oxygen masks in a row of three. Makes sense. I can understand. You just would think that somewhere along the way someone might have mentioned it. You will be asked to switch with someone else who booked their particular seat well in advance. The flight attendant will wait until the doors are about to close, and everyone is comfortable and settled. Can you imagine how many people are just dying to switch their aisle seat for a window seat next to the screaming baby? Me too. Fortunately, the plane is not full, and we get it worked out so we have a row to ourselves.
Sleeping: Now it is about midnight and Stormy and Rocko have been really good considering the circumstances, but it is way past bedtime and they are on a jet that is starting to make funny loud noises and move. Oh, and they can't lay down. We were told during takeoffs to give them something to suck on to soothe them and relieve the pressure in their ears and we brought out their bottles, but they were not having any of that. They wanted the real deal, the pause that refreshes, soothes, calms and makes everything feel better. Have you ever been essentially topless on a nearly full plane while two children pawed and suckled you during takeoff? Me neither. But Liz has. After we got into the air, things calmed down and they were out like lights. Have you ever flown across the country with a baby sleeping in your lap, praying they stay asleep? No? Try this: sit in a chair in the most uncomfortable position you can imagine; place a 20 pound bean bag on your lap and try not to move for 6 hours. See how much sleep you get.
Wake up in Boston-for adults, see number 5. Kids- actually slept the whole way, not even waking up for the landing.
The car did pick us up. I had Roland's cell number and called to let him know we had landed, and were waiting for our bike case at the oversized luggage window. We finally get outside with all of our luggage in tow, and boy, was he surprised. The bike case would not fit in the trunk. Mary had bought some car seats and supplied them for the trip, but they had yet to be installed. By the time they were in, I was sweating and wondering what kind of viruses I might have exposed myself to while rooting around blindly between the seat cushions of a white stretch limo with mirrored ceiling and a bar looking for a seatbelt. The bike case goes in with us, I strap in the kids and we're off.
With S&R safely strapped in, we actually did get some sleep in the car. Roland loves to talk while driving, however, and I did try to be polite for a while...
We made it...all I have to do now is take the seats out of the car and say hellos and carry luggage upstairs and get in bed...

We have been slowly preparing for a visit to Nonquitt, and now the mad dash to get everything in order for our first transcontinental trip with the twins is upon us. S&R have been practicing sitting up and rolling over, which will be handy at the beach. It has also been getting warm here and they have been "swimming" outside on the deck in their bath tub which they love. Afterwards, they sun for a while in the nude, which of course is a strictly California thing which won't be tolerated in Nonquitt.

I have also been working like crazy, trying to prepare for almost a month off. The long days have allowed me to still get a mid week ride in here and there, and I took this shot as Josh, John and I returned from an afternoon ride around the Dam.

Mary and Sackett have been preparing like mad on their end as well, setting up the apartment for babies and interviewing sitters. As usual, Mary will leave no detail overlooked, as she wants us to return often. (read: indefinitely) With Sackett doing her bidding, she is a force to be reckoned with and I am happy to have so much logistical support on the other side of the country. I am sure we will be wrecked by the time we get off the redeye with two six-month-old lap children.