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April 24, 2003
A Trip That Took 3 ˝ Years to Plan
During the fall of 1999, I ran across an online pregnancy diary. By the time I'd found it, the baby had been born. I spent all day reading the weekly entries of the child's mother. A few days later I unsuccessfully attempted to find the diary again. What I did find, by way of a search engine, was iParenting's PregnancyToday site. I was fascinated by the women's stories. I was a recently engaged college junior at the time with no thought of pregnancy yet for myself, but I found myself drawn to the site for the better-than-fiction tales of births, ultrasounds, and growing bellies. Once I learned the lingo, the preconception diaries were even more exciting with the monthly anticipation and joy over successes.
I remained a lurker for six months or so. I didn't think the opinions of an unmarried, childless college student would be appreciated. But eventually I started writing on writers' TTM boards.
Then late last summer, my husband and I were getting ready to move and I'd become completely overwhelmed with all the stuff we owned. My parents had recently converted my old bedroom into a den and I'd inherited anything I didn't want tossed. At the same time, I read on Allisun's diary that she was looking for partners to read Julie Morganstern's "Organizing from the Inside Out" and revamp their lives, and she got me hooked. I don't think Allisun ever did find her copy of the book, and I never did a massive reorganization, from the outside or in, but I became a frequent visitor to Allisun's diary and board.
At the same time, Alicia was writing on Allisun's board too, and I was getting to know Jen H on Jeanette's board and later on Time for You. After the trip to Seattle, Alicia brought up the possibility of a gathering in Chicago for the folks in the middle of the continent. Although I'd heard of iParenting get-togethers, the seven hour drive/one hour plane flight to Chicago seemed like a trip I might actually be able to take.
Shortly thereafter, Allisun announced her pregnancy, and spring/summer flights to Chicago for her seemed iffy since her chances of being bed rested were high. That's when she suggested that we fly her way instead. I've never been to Quebec, and the higher cost of airfare would be offset by staying at Hotel Allisun, so that sounded great to me.
In mid-January, Alicia and I were sure we wanted to go, and she called me to say hello before either of us made the final leap and bought tickets. After chatting non-stop for two hours, I was assured that she was a real person, complete with slight Southern accent, and we would have no problem finding anything to say during a long weekend together. I determined that my ticket would be $50 cheaper if I left on a Thursday and returned on a Tuesday, so the Pyjama Party became a super-extended weekend. (For the record, my spell checker says Pyjama isn't a word, but as a guest in another country, I'll spell the word their way.)
In the weeks before the trip, we convinced Jen H to come, even if it was only for a day or two. I was glad that someone else currently without children would be there.
We're Really Coming!
The Monday before the trip, the four of us began emailing continuously and it suddenly hit me that I was leaving the country in three days to meet three women I'd never seen before. Yikes! Alicia and I would be there for most of six days, and we didn't have any plans beyond some sort of girls' night out on Saturday and that I'd be teaching them how to knit. And Allisun was going to make me eat potatoes. By Wednesday, Allisun had all the food determined, but that was about it. We figured we'd fill the days somehow.
The three days before I left were insanely busy. I had the start of a cold, which didn't help matters. I had a homework assignment due Tuesday for my graduate class that I didn't start until Monday night and ended up working on every night that week before turning it in late on Thursday. Things were busy at work and I was running around trying to deal with paperwork while I was there. By Wednesday, staying up late had aggravated the cold enough that I felt miserable and stayed home from work resting and finishing the homework until that afternoon. When I got home from work around six, I went to the grocery store (for lefse), the fabric store (for buttons), the library (to return an overdue "BabyCatcher"), and the bank (for cash for the trip) in under an hour so I could get home in time for Survivor at seven. Gotta keep those priorities. After really, truly finishing that homework assignment that wouldn't go away around ten, I scrambled around the house gathering clothes, knitting supplies, and everything else I might need on the trip. I finally went to bed around one with piles of clothes all over the floor.
Thursday morning I packed everything into a large duffel bag, a very small suitcase, and my shoulder bag and went to class. After checking my watch fifty times and going into a horrible coughing fit (the cold hadn't miraculously disappeared despite my Jamba Juice Coldbuster Smoothie on Tuesday night), the 75 minute class finally ended and my husband drove me to the airport.
The First Stamp on my Seven Year Old Passport
I found my way to the Northwest e-ticket area and got checked in. I had to show my passport to an employee, but otherwise it felt like a standard domestic flight. Going through security was straightforward and I headed to the gate. I had an hour before takeoff and noticed that an observation deck was nearby. After dragging my carry-on luggage up the three flights of stairs, I found myself in a room with thirty or so chairs with windows on all four sides and a great view of most of the airport. Except for the occasional announcement on the PA system, it was peaceful and quiet there, and I settled in to finish a knitting project I was making for Allisun. There wasn't too much to see since it was rainy, but I chatted a little with another knitter waiting for her flight and soon it was time for boarding.
Despite the fact that it was an international flight, boarding occurred about ten minutes before the scheduled takeoff. The plane wasn't too crowded-I guess 1pm Thursday flights to Montreal aren't exactly high demand. I had a window seat with an empty aisle seat beside me. Across the aisle was a couple with a baby about six months old. They were speaking French, which was my first indication that I wasn't headed to Boston or L.A. Another set of parents with a toddler sat behind them. Both children slept most of the flight and dealt well with the changes in pressure.
I didn't do too much on the flight. I had only flown once since my college graduation two years ago but I'm used to the 3 ˝ hour flight to Los Angeles where I went to school. It seemed really strange that I'd be flying for only 2 ˝ hours and leaving the country. I'd flown internationally before, but only with my parents or the high school band, and the last time had been when I was 17. When that Passport expired I had it renewed "just in case", but I didn't realize it would be seven years before I used it! After our wedding in 2001, I had it amended for my name change, for which I am now grateful. I could have brought a birth certificate instead, but having the Passport was a lot simpler.
The plane landed in Montreal around 5:30, slightly early, on a sunny afternoon. Already this was looking better than Minneapolis did when I left. As we taxied to the gate, I started getting nervous. What if I didn't recognize them? Alicia had changed her hair since the only photo I'd seen. The only photos of Allisun on the site were of the side of her head. Would that be enough? I had emailed Allisun before class saying what I was wearing, so even if I couldn't find them, I hoped they'd find me. I figured two women, one five months pregnant, couldn't be THAT hard to spot. Then I started worrying about what we'd say once we found each other. I'm five years younger than Allisun and ten years younger than Alicia, and don't have kids. What exactly were we going to talk about for six days? My conversation with Alicia two months earlier seemed far, far away. But despite my fears, I got more and more excited that I was finally going to be there, finally meeting these women I'd written to for months. And I'd flown to a city where everyone speaks French in order to meet them.
I stepped off the plane and was immediately confused. There was a sign indicating Customs, but it didn't say where to go. Other passengers seemed to be heading down an escalator, so I followed. After walking a long ways through what seemed like a maintenance hallway, I found myself in a Customs area. I'd filled out the Customs Declaration on the plane--"I'm not bringing anything into your country"-so I went to what looked like the shortest line. It wasn't clear if one area was for Canadians and one was for everyone else, so I just hoped no one would yell at me. As soon as I stepped into the line, it promptly stopped moving. It seemed as though the Customs officer was grilling everyone and I wished I'd taken French instead of Spanish in high school so I'd seem a little less American. It was FINALLY my turn in line and the only surprise was having to dig Allisun's address out of my bag to prove I really had somewhere to go. I got that coveted "Montreal Dorval" stamp on my passport to prove that I wasn't a complete idiot for having renewed it and headed to the baggage claim. Fate was smiling on me and my duffel bag came out of the chute just as I walked up to it. That never happens.
Finally We Meet, Right?
I took my luggage and walked toward the mass of people waiting for friends and relatives. My heart raced as my eyes scanned the room, hoping and praying that someone would call out my name. Around me, people were kissing cheeks, laughing, and exchanging greetings in French. I wound around the area without seeing them (Alicia's flight arrived three hours before mine) and parked my bags in front of the door. It was still ten minutes before my scheduled arrival time, so I guessed that they weren't there yet, although I was somewhat fearful that we just hadn't noticed each other in the waiting area. I stood there, wishing again that I knew more than two words in French, glancing around the room every few minutes, hoping that if I wished it enough, people I recognized would walk through the door. After ten looooonnnnggg minutes, a woman walked in that might have been Alicia. I looked at her, she glanced at me, and then she walked over to the corral area. Alicia had mentioned getting her hair cut and colored recently, and I thought she'd said it was darker than her photo. The woman I saw had lighter hair that was still shoulder length, so I didn't think it was her. I spent the next ten minutes trying to decide whether I should say something to the might-be-Alicia woman, but couldn't gather the nerve. I kept thinking that Allisun would be there too, so it couldn't be her. I finally decided to approach her. Of course, it was Alicia. She insisted upon helping me drag my luggage (it must have looked like I'd packed for a month) out to the curb where Allisun was circling with her van.
I was feeling pretty goofy since we didn't have the world's smoothest introduction, so when Allisun pulled up, I started babbling about something and didn't shut my mouth until I felt incredibly foolish. What a start. We wove around the evening rush hour until getting stuck in an intersection waiting for a train and Allisun mentioned Dr. Bray. Ahh, this was the same person I'd read about for two years; these weren't complete strangers I'd joined up with. By the time we drove up to Allisun's beautiful house, I felt a little better.
Meet the Family
If I learned anything in Montreal, it's that chick peas are very, very good for you. We stepped into the house and were greeted by Allisun's aunt Dee-Dee, Remo, and Kaillan, who sat peacefully in her high chair for a few minutes. Allisun seemed incredibly concerned that I wasn't going to eat anything since I had mentioned earlier that I didn't like potatoes. I realize that the rest of the world could eat potatoes day in and day out, but for some reason I don't like them. However, I am usually willing to try foods and the chick peas in the pasta didn't look too scary. By the time dinner was over I determined a few things:
1) I was going to eat very well in Montreal
2) Chickpeas don't taste like anything, and the way Allisun talked them up, they must cure all the world's ills, so I should be eating them continuously
3) Kaillan had already charmed my socks off
4) Everyone should have an Aunt Dee-Dee in their lives.
Perhaps Brandan's absence kept her in a good mood, or maybe she was showing off for the strangers in her kitchen, but from Allisun's stories, I fully expected Kaillan to be hanging from the ceiling 24-7 and not the cutie-patootie she was showing us. It might have taken her ten minutes to wrap me around her little finger, helping her onto chairs and asking her to name everything in sight. Since I don't have children myself yet and never had any cousins, the last time I was around a toddler much was when my sister was that age and I was five. My niece is exactly Kaillan's age, and she doesn't say 1/3 the words that Kaillan knows in both French and English (although I failed at convincing her to say any French to me, so I've got to take Allisun's word on that one), although my niece and Kaillan would probably have a grand time climbing onto tables and other high places together.
Remo and Dee-Dee took a sick, sleeping Brandan, along with Kaillan, to the doctor, leaving us gals to talk and get to know each other. I gave Allisun the sweater I'd frantically finished on the plane that was supposed to be for the new baby, but fit Kaillan instead. Alicia and I took out the photos of our families and our homes that we'd brought to share.
Of the two of them, Alicia turned out more like the version of her I'd envisioned. It probably helped that we'd spoken before. Hearing her talk about her daughter was amazing-her love for Alaina was so clear. Although any of us could probably have talked someone's ear off if necessary, Alicia was the best at filling those gaps in conversation that inevitably come up now and again. She was also kind enough to bring ten boxes of Girl Scout cookies for me, and for that I will be forever grateful. I NEED my Tagalongs and Thin Mints every spring and I had lost my Minnesota supplier!
At some point, Remo came home with a still-sleeping Brandan, complete with double ear-infection and sore throat. Poor kid. Kaillan had required three adults holding her down for an ear check, but was back to her smiley self when we saw her.
I got the feeling Remo was used to women invading his home since he didn't seem affected in the slightest by all the women in his living room. He had us laughing the moment he walked in the room and it was immediately clear that he and Allisun are perfect for each other. The two of them were asking about the night's reality TV in one minute and holding Brandan while giving him medicine in the next. They seemed like the ultimate parenting team-whether it was shuffling kids to daycare or dealing with 3am screams, they've found a way to share and tag-team all they need to do, and any snags along the way get dealt with together.
I guess two years plus of reading Allisun's stories led me to think that her life must resemble a beehive with a constant buzz of activity. In that respect, I found her to be a lot calmer than I expected. Maybe the five months of pregnancy affects that. She is incredibly generous, constantly offering us food, in addition to opening her home to us for so long. The most telling sign of her kindness was the constant stream of family and friends in her home. Their house is a place where people gather, where people laugh and have fun, a place to feel welcome. We met a variety of her friends throughout the weekend in addition to Dee-Dee and a grandmother, all of whom were wonderful people that I felt lucky to meet. Allisun's warmth and openness had brought all of them together.
We stayed up chatting until 1am before I settled into Brandan's bed surrounded by trains and fire engines. I got lucky-Alicia in the guest room didn't have such fun décor.
Early Morning Wake Up Call
Allisun and Remo had warned us that they didn't need an alarm clock since Kaillan wakes up at 6am regardless of bedtime or anything else. I have been known for sleeping through thunderstorms and a sister's piano practice, so I wasn't too concerned. I was not expecting, however, to have the lights turned on at 5am. I looked up and met Brandan for the first time. He'd come in to get his clothes for the day not realizing Allisun had already picked some out. He looked at me, half asleep in his bed, I looked at him, he turned off the light and shut the door. Nice to meet you too, Brandan.
I have vague recollections of waking from time to time before finally getting up for good around 9 (8am in my Central time brain), but had to hear from Alicia, the light sleeper, that the kids had been up and about for three hours already. By the time I was conscious, Remo had brought them to daycare.
I had the first of many Montreal sesame bagels that morning before Claudia and her son arrived to go shopping.
Shopping, Shopping, Shopping
I have to say that I'm not a big shopper. I rarely buy clothes unless I have to, and my husband is a full-time student, so I don't have much of a choice, anyway. But I don't mind watching others shop, and it was nice to hand over my 100 American dollars and be given 144 Canadian dollars in exchange.
On Friday, Allisun, Alicia, Claudia, the baby, and I headed first to an OshKosh warehouse sale. I tried on a couple pairs of jeans, got depressed, and left the women's section as quickly as possible. I eventually found my husband two shirts for $8 American each while the other gals loaded the stroller with piles of kids' OshKosh gear.
After surviving the weaving line of mothers at the warehouse cashiers, we headed to a local mall. Perhaps this wasn't a standard Montreal mall, but it was at least as fancy as the Mall of America near my home and much nicer than any other mall I've seen, complete with indoor gardens. The mall had some of the American standards-Sears, the Gap-but I was surprised at how European it felt. We went to a store called Zara where Alicia bought a cute sweater for her daughter. At home, Express tries to be European, but Zara (or was it Zara's?) managed to make me feel as though I'd been transported to Paris.
We then headed over to Gap, which seemed expensive, so I left to search for a bathroom and managed to lose the rest of the group while I was gone. For a few minutes I wondered how exactly I would get ahold of anyone given that I didn't even have Allisun's phone numbers with me. Just before I started to panic, I saw Claudia waving at me. Phew.
We wandered down to the Food Court where I discovered that I knew enough French to order a ham and cheese croissant and vegetable soup without requiring any translation. As we left, we passed an ice cream stand, and despite my full stomach 30 seconds earlier, I felt the need to try a Canadian shake. The only difference I found was in the sizing. Apparently in Quebec, small means small, unlike in the U.S. where small means medium-to-large with unlimited refills (at least on soda).
Once we left the mall, Allisun drove us all over Montreal's West Island, picking up Claudia's daughter and some food on the way. I'm usually very good with maps and directions, but you couldn't have paid me enough for me to say where we were that afternoon. Between the slight motion sickness from driving all over town and the cold that hadn't let up, I was exhausted when we got back to Allisun's and I napped for the next few hours. I woke up in time to have a pita with chicken for dinner that they'd kindly saved for me. I must have still been pretty out of it because all I remember from that evening is that we sat around talking and watching TV with Remo and the kids.
And Then There Were More
Friday night wasn't nearly as exciting as the night before-no visits from Brandan this time. I think Kaillan woke up screaming around three, which led to Allisun's still being asleep by the time Alicia and I were up and about around 9. We were all still in pajamas (better make that pyjamas) when half an hour later, Jen called to say she was approaching.
Jen was kind enough not to bring us SARS from Toronto, but a box of Timbits instead. Since the kids and I were coughing without help from a highly contagious, incurable sickness, the doughnut holes were much appreciated. We sat around for awhile, showing Jen our photos from home and figuring out what sightseeing we could do given that the weather wasn't cooperating.
Saturday's Mini-Van Adventures
After half an hour spent watching Remo arrange and rearrange the car seats until five adults and two kids could squeeze somewhat comfortably into their minivan, we took off for the city. Our first stop was in Old Montreal for Beavertails-since the day's success depended at least partially on the happiness of the four-year-old in the back seat, this seemed like a good idea until he spread chocolate all over his pants. Whoops. The cobblestone streets of Old Montreal were constructed a few hundred years too early for anyone to have envisioned cars needing to squeeze by each other on the narrow, windy roads. So after a few attempts to see the tops of churches from inside the van, Alicia and my motion sickness was beginning to assert itself and we drove to the nearest parking ramp.
We piled out of the car and twisted our way through some of the underground stores until we found the food court. It didn't take long for Kaillan's stroller to become a jacket holder. I was impressed by her ability to weave through the mass of legs in such a way that she maximized the number of people's paths she crossed. She seemed to be aiming to hit people's knees.
http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~chirho/images/remobrandan.jpg
We got through lunch with an unhappy Kaillan, bought some postcards, and worked our way back to the car. Remo then took us on a driving tour of the Olympic area, the Expos stadium with its wacky tower, Mount Royal (where Alicia and I, the tourists, got our photo taken in the rain in front of a clouded-over downtown), and up and down the streets of West Mount to gape at the gorgeous houses perched on the hill without yards for kids to play in. Kaillan proved to be a future real estate fanatic given that after much fussing, when we entered the fancy neighborhoods she became silent and stared out the window.
http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~chirho/images/tourists.jpg
Around 5 we returned home and met some of Allisun's friends who joined us in a Women's Night Out. After Allisun attempted to liquor us up, the seven of us fit ourselves into the van on the way to the small Italian restaurant. Once we arrived, a friend of Allisun's from Ottawa showed up as a surprise. Something that struck me was that three of the four friends of hers we met that weekend were from other countries. Forgive me if I bungle this up, but I believe they were from Honduras, Sweden, and India. It occurred to me as the eight of us sat down to eat that we each came from such different places, whether it be states, provinces, or continents, but everyone was easy to talk to and fun to spend time with-Allisun has found a wonderful group of friends.
The highlight (well, not so much) of the dinner for me was choking on my vinaigrette salad dressing, which aggravated my already-irritated sore throat. I spent most of the evening coughing. The food was delicious, but I was too full to try the dessert menu despite the temptation.
The eight of us squeezed into the mini-van for the ride back to Allisun's (starting to notice a theme of the weekend?). The plan was to watch a movie, but we spent too long chatting and it never got started. I helped Jen start knitting, which she took to fairly quickly. Eventually the friends left and the four of us stayed up talking until we were about to keel over on her extra-comfy couches.
Oh, the Blueberries
I tried not to sleep in too late on Sunday since Jen was going to leave that morning (already?!). When I went downstairs, Allisun and Remo were fixing pancakes with eggs, bacon, and hash browns (which I ate, despite the potatoes). Allisun had a bowl of blueberries that she was putting in the pancakes. At some point we realized that the bowl had disappeared and Kaillan was suspiciously quiet. We found her in the living room watching Teletubbies from her Pooh chair, happily munching on blueberries. She was moved to a non-carpeted area in a plastic chair and left to dye the rest of her hands and face blue.
http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~chirho/images/blueberries.jpg
After breakfast, Jen "graduated" to cotton yarn and I showed her how to purl while everyone else determined where we would spend the rest of the day. Saturday's rain had become sleet and snow, so outdoor activities were nixed again.
Far too soon, Jen took off for the long, wintry drive back to Toronto. Although we were only together for 24 hours, most of which was spent driving or sleeping, I found it really easy to talk with her. I enjoyed showing her how to knit, which is one of my favorite hobbies, and I hope she'll be able to help me with renovation advice in another year or two once I reach that point. Depending on how life turns out, Jen and I may end up having our first pregnancies simultaneously. We seem to be leaning towards the same birth philosophies, as learned from Jeanette's School of Midwifery and Birthing, so I look forward to sharing that next big step in life with her.
Penguins, Beavers, and Alligators
Once Jen left, Remo, Allisun, Alicia, Brandan, Kaillan, and I piled into the van once again with slightly more space. We returned to the city to visit the BioDome, a building with various world environments and animals. The kids had a great time checking out the giant fish, monkeys, and other animals. Kaillan let me hold her up to get a better view-being two and a half feet tall has its disadvantages. After wandering through the Arctic zone, Alicia and I checked out the gift shop while Kaillan decided she absolutely, positively had to go outside. On the way home, Kaillan, Brandan, and Allisun all fell asleep.
Once back at their house, we watched Maid in Manhattan since we'd run out of time the night before. For a few hours the computer was functional and I checked the boards after Alicia and I got Allisun hooked up with the new board system. We ate dinner and Alicia and I introduced the Montreal folk to American Dreams, one of my non-reality show favorites.
I think we must have gone to bed fairly early that night because I can't recall anything else we did.
Big Stores and Teeny Skaters
Monday morning Dee-Dee came over and she and Brandan hung out with us while Remo and Kaillan went to their usual Monday places. Every time we'd driven downtown over the weekend we'd gone past IKEA and hyped it to Alicia, the only IKEA virgin amongst us. By the time we finally went there that morning it would have needed firework displays to impress her. I don't have an IKEA within a 500-mile radius of home, but I'd gone a few times in college and knew what to expect. Despite being the biggest fan in the group, I was the only one who left without a purchase. Buying utensils there would be a let down for me-I've got my eye on the footstool for my Poang chair at home but that wouldn't go too well in my carry-on luggage, so I was able to hold back. IKEA has promised to open a branch at the Mall of America next year, and I'll be storming the place when it opens. It didn't help that I developed a headache while we were in the store and got dizzy enough for Dee-Dee to ask if I could be pregnant, which didn't help my light-headedness! We ate Swedish meatballs and quiche (for Alicia) there before we left.
Next we went to a local ice rink for Brandan's skating class. Like a good Minnesotan, I learned how to skate when I was his age. Seeing a dozen three- and four-year-olds wobble and scoot around with their helmets was one of the cutest things I'd seen in a long time. A couple kids were so tiny I was impressed that they moved at all. Brandan, the athletic whiz that he is, enjoyed his extended cheering section and flew circles around most of the kids (whether he was supposed to or not). After awhile, they gave the kids sticks and balls and let them hit at anything that moved-absolutely hilarious! It was the last class in the session and all the mini-Gretzky's got certificates as they left.
We then stopped at the grocery store so Allisun could pick up a few things for dinner. Since the rest of us were staying in the car, we parked right in front of the door while Allisun ran in. After 15 minutes had passed, we started making bets on how many grocery bags she would bring back. Another 20 minutes, and Alicia thought we should be thinking in carts. Shortly thereafter, a breathless Allisun returned with enough bags for Alicia's guess (the highest) to be an underestimate, but to her credit, the lines at the cashier were painfully long.
Next on the list of stops was Club Price and we all went in this time. Dee-Dee had promised Brandan (and I) ic
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