Monday, February 8, 2010

Leavin' . . .

(sing it with me now) oooooonnnnn an airplane . . .

Boy, I miss Peter, Paul, and Mary. I know, I know, Peter and Paul are still technically with us, but it's not the same.

ANYWAY.

Yes. Back to the topic: Leavin' on an airplane. In fact, by the time most of you read this, I, along with my loving husband and The Kid, will be winging our way rapidly to Minneapolis.

Why? Beats the tar our of me. I wasn't the one booking flights. I barely got the hotel reserved, and that in and of itself was a major accomplishment for me.

No, Minneapolis is merely a connecting flight. For reasons that escape me, we have to fly to the Great Frozen North to get to San Francisco.

Oh, San Francisco. Even the name sounds warm enough that no frozen precipitation falls from the sky. And, frankly, by mid-February, that's all I ask for from a destination.

We've never been, individually or collectively. And we go now for 2 1/2 very simple reasons:

1. My agency, Larsen-Pomada Literary Agency, is hosting the San Francisco Writers Conference. I will learn things, meet people, and most importantly, suck up to my agent.
2. My loving husband has worked 6-7 days a week, 10-14 hours a day, for the last 8 months, and today is, in theory, when that insane period of changing a major corporation over to a new computer system, bringing international offices on line, and training multitudes of other office workers while also doing his normal accounting stuff ends. The man needs a vacation in the worst sort of way.
1/2. As I mentioned, we've never been to San Francisco. We wanna go. It's cold and snowy and icky in Illinois. It may rain on us in San Fran, but damn it, it'll be a lukewarm rain, and that's all I'm asking.

Yes, when I bandied about the very notion of attending this conference way back in August, the first thing he said wasn't, "How much?" but, "When?" which was followed closely by, "Let me check my schedule." And then it was on like Donkey Kong (and no, I don't know what that means.)

This is a major deal for us. First, I'm going to a conference, which, if you've been paying any attention at all (not required), sends my neuroses into overdrive. (Clothing update: My friend Leah came over and we forsook the Super Duper Bowl Halftime Old Geezers Show so that she could personally vet my outfits {and accessories!}. I will now stride forth in all fashion confidence!)

Second, I have to get on a plane to get there. See above mention of neuroses.

Third, this is the first real, serious family vacation we've taken that does not involve staying at an in-laws' house since my sister Hannah got married. That was fast approaching four years ago, and the Kid wasn't even a year and a half old yet. We flew to Denver a week early, got very (damn) little sleep, and did our best to have a good time before the nuptials began. (Side note: We had a good time at the nuptials, too.)

But that was it. In the past three and a half years, we haven't taken a real vacation.

So, off we go, into the abyss. 'Santa' got The Kid a portable DVD player for Christmas (although The Kid stubbornly insists on calling that his 'DS') and we've been hording gum, but I have no idea how that boy will do on a plane.

Unlike me, being as I am a naturally paranoid person who does not personally enjoy, in a stomach kind of way, the ups and downs of altitude changes. I know exactly what I will do on a plane. I will guzzle ginger ale and focus on meditative breathing like nobody's business. Which means my husband will be in charge while we're on the plane. Unless The Kid has to go potty, because my husband has a strict no-airplane-bathroom rules.

Yes, as you can see, we are going to be a bundle of fun on the plane. WHEEE!

We'll be in San Fran for a week--three days for the conference, and then three days for Family Time. I'm only loosely aware of what those crazy menfolk of mine are going to do for their three days of completely uninterrupted father/son time--trolleys, to be sure, and aquariums, and something called The Duck. I know I'm going to Alcatraz, Chinatown, and something about a bridge? Yes, that's it.

I won't be back in time next week to blog about it, and I'm not nearly insane enough to try and lug a computer AND a small child around an airport(s), so stay tuned in two weeks for pictures!

Oh, and wish me luck. Lord knows I'm going to need it!

5 comments:

Mary D. said...

Have lots of fun. Hope all your flights are smooth and all the rain is at least lukewarm!

lindayezak said...

Your husband didn't say "How much?" but "When?" Okay. I'm officially jealous. What are you feeding that man???

I'm Linda at WWW (we've been writing about the wild horses), and since I was so rude as to not greet you when you first joined, I figured I'd better come for a visit.

And now, I'm leaving jealous. But I hope you and your family have a great time! ;)

Ann said...

Have a wonderful trip. Just keep apple juice away from the DVD player. We had a "Mishap" last year. And unfortunately it was early in the flight.

lucylucia said...

Oh I hope you have a wonderful time! I loved San Fansisco when I went on a family vacation!! I'm expecting a day by day account!!

C. said...

I think your little guy should be fine on the plane. Years and years ago we had a 13 hour flight to New Zealand and Armand at age 3 was a trooper. A sack of small fiddly toys and he was good to go. The only flight he ever was trouble on was at a year and half, and he wasn't feeling well to start.