New year's advances December 21, 2006 - January 5, 2007 Converted into improvised hospital ward, we give up on desert motels and fall back on luxurious vacation in a mountain resort

	Lisa at a Christmas party

	Tom hides "with the men" in the garage

So far, we were ready for Christmas. Our festive feeling was topped by our neighbor's invitation. On the Friday before Christmas Day Sid came early from work and our whole family ventured across the street. My shy Hippo had finally personally met my Ladies' Club -- and their husbands. Given the presence of a large count of children under four years of age, it was a party pleasantly chaotic. And since none of us needed to drive home, we could both have some beer. Subsequently, I had tasted eggnog with brandy.

Right after we had arrived to the neighbor's house, Tom manly aimed for the garage, where he later spent most time playing with toy trains and cars. Smaller children rather oscillated among parents' legs in the living room. At some time we had won a set of ten little books for Lisa in a swap raffle. Being an avid reader, she was very pleased.

On Saturday we drove out on a proven small trip to the Roaring Camp Railroad. Our children watched the steam engine pull uphill and marched between the rails in a simple pre-Christmas, easy fashion. When I had read in the media about the pre-Christmas stress, I felt glad that this year we have really worked it out; all events pleasant, tuning us into a nice holiday spirit. It was clear that a catch would lure somewhere, I just did not know where.

	Children are grabbing their first presents

	A strong man is needed to unpack the presents.

The day of Christmas Even continued at ease. Lisa made a scene at the dinner, for she would not eat anything she does not know. She would not even taste it. Thus we were forced to watch her making faces over grilled salmon with a potato salad, and feed her dry bread. Then I inconspicuously smuggled presents under the tree. Kids grabbed the colorful packets without shame. And the catch had arrived: when Tom unpacked his beautiful airplane assembly, one screw was missing. Unfortunately it is a toy from a summer sale, and there's no way to return it; I have not seen anything like it anytime later, either. Luckily, Sid had discovered a way how to put the plane together without that one screw (and I had later found a screw belonging to a different set which seems to match), hence a disaster had been averted.

The rest of the Eve passed according to expectations. Kids basically demanded to hold on to whatever the other one got as a present. Hence for a part of the evening, Tom spent sitting a doll on a potty, while Lisa assembled the airplane. Books about Thomas the Tank Engine were equally distributed -- Lisa would not have survived if Tom had had a book of her favorite trains, while she would not. A single Cars book, which Tom had received from our friend, was a problem. Lisa cried for it (for altogether five seconds, before we distracted her with another present).

Then on Monday morning, the children could finally play with their presents. In this fashion, the Anglo-Saxon Christmas style seems almost more merciful to me -- instead of tired, whiny kids under the tree, you get children who are well rested -- and who have a whole day to explore their new toys. We were invited to a dinner by our Czech friends, who actually prepared potato dumplings. Thus our holidays had culminated with same ease, with which they started.

	A roundhouse

	Without any explanation, Lisa immediately started to feed her new baby. This was supposed to be a baby powder bottle, but a bottle it was nonetheless.

We had long planned a departure to our BIG TRIP for Tuesday -- we wanted to try to reach Zion NP (Utah). Well, we plan, and children rule. Already on Monday night, Lisa began having an ugly discharge from her eyes. I had never seen anything like it in my life; my friend consoled me that it is relatively common. On Tuesday, however, the discharge had stopped -- and Lisa's eye sockets were completely swollen. She was also acting up and whiny. A doctor had declared that it was an ear and apparently also sinus infection, prescribing antibiotics. It was clear that we could forget Zion. On Wednesday morning the medication had suppressed most of Lisa's symptoms -- she began to frolic, and started to eat again a bit. Thus we opted to drive out and stay in our friend Frank's mountain house. His family has grown by a new baby, and they have their hands full, while their pretty house near the beautiful Donner Lake stays empty. We have borrowed his keys hoping to leave on Thursday and spend at least a few days there.

Alas, Tom had risen in the morning with a pink eye, and Sid had to take him to the doctor -- while I took Lisa shopping. The fact that each of our children was born in a different season, makes them slightly incompatible in clothing. We had no winter jacket for Lisa. Sid warned me that all retail stores were already selling summer stuff -- and he was right. If I were looking for flip-flops or swim suits, I would have had a lot to choose from. Snow wear? Haha. Meager sale heaps featured inconsistent sizes; moreover, American idea of a girl's outfit cannot deviate from horribly-sweet pink, garnished with something "practical" -- like white long hair fur sleeve trim. Imagining our Lisa (who digs in every puddle) in these light-colored, cute, albeit unwashable horrors, made me quite dizzy. Eventually I spotted a gray-blue jacket without lace or light frills.

	Presents that someone else got, are the most interesting ones.

	I??? Am I supposed to walk in this white gunk???

We picked up Tom's eye drops and treated his eye. He whimpered, but actually cooperated, which was a pleasant change from our furiously fighting baby girl. Sometimes I start to believe that we may all get along over time. But only sometimes. At about two thirty, we had finished stuffing everything into the bus, and were ready for mountains.

The children too the long ride well, against expectations, despite Sacramento presenting us with a horrendous jam. Lisa slept through some of it, Tom mostly gazed out of the window and commented. When we stopped for dinner in Auburn, Lisa made a scene regarding her new jacket -- she's not used for anything this thick and clumsy, and she would not have it. Her rebellion lasted throughout the whole dinner (despite being out of the jacket). She had somewhat accepted her fate during subsequent walk through the town -- or had she recognized that something heavier suits the frosty weather?

We reached Truckee in the dark, feeling grateful to the inventor of DVDs (especially the inventor of in-car DVDs). We had swapped seats; I drove and Sid navigated. Main streets were plowed, salted and driven over, the smaller ones just plowed. It was crunchy ten degrees (Fahrenheit) outside, but the bus did not care. We were carrying chains along, but did not need them, despite having to make a few U-turns in the narrow roads. It is quite hard to look for a specific house in a dark forest. Fortunately, all of them had their driveways plowed, and when we had eventually hit the right one, I could sail the bus right into the garage.

	Tom has an explorer's soul

	Lisa cares to enjoy the winter only from mom's arms.

Trained by years in a wet stone-built house in the Czech-Moravian Highlands, I felt here, in some nine thousand feet altitude, like Alice in Wonderland. All snow cleaned away, cozy warm in the house (a caretaker had made sure of that in the morning), children completely enchanted by staircase to the living floor (which did not rub off on us, luggage bearers). Frank has now total three kids, and his mountain house holds scores of toys -- our suitcase of things that I packed for our offspring, had remained practically unnoticed. Why not, since there was an opportunity to play with SOMEONE ELSE'S things?!? It was quite late before we had managed to put our joyful children in their respective beds. Tom quickly asked for reassurance that he does "see snow" from his room's window, and we had to pledge that we would release him into the wonder in the morning.

Right after waking up Tom had ran up with eyes bulging that there was a "snowed" tree outside. We pointed from the kitchen window to the other snow-covered trees and other houses with snow on their roofs, and again we had to confirm that right after breakfast we would go out. Alas, my little Californians were for a harsh shock in the shape of jackets and gloves. Tom had eventually learned that he'd be better of with gloves after all; Lisa resisted for the rest of our stay. She would rather walk around with bare hands and squeal whenever she lost balance in the snow -- finding out quite soon that sitting down is a problem, for when she leans on the snow with her little hands, it is COLD... We tried to entice the kids for a ride on a sled, but they both started crying. Tommy rather preferred plowing through deep snow on his discovery walks, while Lizzy opted for her mother's arms.

	A beautifully restored steam engine in a museum.

	Tommy on a real turntable.

In the end we had decided that there was no point in pushing it, now that both kids were actually ill, and we all gathered at the car and went shopping for food. There seemed to be a slight trouble with weather. With temperatures approaching melt point, the snow became soft -- and slippery. Our bus fared like a goat on a frozen lake; Sid demanded to be let to drive. I proudly refused to surrender and backed up (altogether some sixty yards) onto the nearest plowed road, counting on our chains, should the driving condition not improve there. Fortunately the rest was passable with no problems, and we never needed those chains. Only we started driving in first gear downhill to the house and into the garage, and very carefully at that; from the garage and up the small road we would back, for the rest of our stay.

Our children were happiest at the parking lot by Safeway -- the roads cleaned there, only snow lay on the other-time green separators. Lisa merrily trotted on paved roads, Tom dug in the white heaps. Sid took time shopping and even longer to pay for it -- mountains were being overrun by Christmas/New Year tourist hordes, who had decided to buy every thing that was not nailed down. Alas, the tourists did not limit themselves to crowding the grocery stores. We were completely out of luck, wanting to park in the historic Truckee downtown, and had no chance to have lunch there. Eventually we had found a less frequented Thai restaurant off the main bustle. Our offspring had visibly rejoiced -- I am afraid that thanks to our love to ethnic foods, they consider curry and Vietnamese soup their home cooking.

When the kids awoke from their afternoon nap, it was dark outside. We had thought that we would have to take them outside again, but we were wrong -- we spent the evening playing pool. Here it came to show, which one of us is the real pub animal -- can you imagine that my Hippo cannot really play it? It almost came to a marital crisis. Hippo groaned that he was no good at it, and I was tired of hearing the aforementioned groaning throughout our family evening.

	Tahoe

	One winter family snapshot.

On Saturday we drove to Carson City, Nevada. According to Suchýš, an interesting railroad museum was to be found there. Well, we liked it alright, but I admit that I had hoped for more. I understand that every preserved engine or car each represent a veritable treasure. Majority of the old iron had ended in a smelting pot during World War II -- historic trains from the age of western railroad boom are mostly irretrievably lost. Only a few pieces had survived, mostly thanks to Hollywood's needs for necessary backdrop to western movies.

Lisa liked best a little green engine from an amusement park, which could be sat in. Poor girl had sat there and waited in vain for the little train to depart, as she is used to at our little children's railroad in a nearby park. The museum contained the obligatory tables with Thomas -- and our kids enjoyed that. Surroundings of the museum reaped the greatest interest. We found a train depot and a turntable. Tommy kept disappearing among piles of old iron and demanded to go "just here over to that little engine" and "over this switch" or "across these tracks". When we were leaving for lunch, he accompanied it with screams, while we hurled threats at him. We had found a surprisingly good Chines buffet, chatted with a local regular and drove out on a scenic route back around Tahoe.

We had counted on the kids falling asleep in their car seats, and the had received their mild for that purpose. Finding the views of the lake enchanting, we gathered that the kids were comfortable and ran out, just Sid and I, to shoot some pictures. Alas, Tommy began to cry that he also wanted out and see the lake and the snow. We had to dress the children up and put them in their winter boots. Tom started running away on a trail, Lisa protested a bit against the snow, but in the end they both enjoyed it.

Further up the road, about two miles from the house, they were both still frisky. We stumbled across a small slope where people were frolicking on sleds, and we stopped to join the fun. Soon we were thrown out, for this affair was open for local high class only. Of course we carried no papers proving that we WERE guests of a local property owner; further it had perspired that entry fee was ten dollars for every adult, and they would close in twenty minutes. To resolved our wondering what to do by walking out and away on a forest trail. We followed him and thus had a nice hike through the winter woods (at no charge). Tom could not be stopped. Later in the car he was puzzled by his wet feet -- a consequence of his enthusiastic trail-blazing through knee-high snow banks.

	Winter fun in front of the house Tom prefers his truck over a sled.

	This is how a mother looks who's been off the chain for five minutes (kids locked up in the bus) and had she needed it!

Sid and I tried the pool in the evening again, but I started to feel really ill, and I could not enjoy it. In the following morning I dragged myself around the house like a zombie and nothing would seem more remote than an idea of staying outdoors in the cold air and wet snow. If you added the fact that on the following day (i.e. after New Year's Eve), everybody would try to get down from the mountains to get back to their jobs or classes, a call for immediate retreat seemed like the best solution. Sid took the kids outdoors for a while still. Tom like it, again, especially after we issued him his favorite toy truck. Lisa did not hesitate much, climbed up into the bus and sat in her seat, having nothing in common with the white gook. Perhaps from our tries to pack and clean up she understood that we were about to change our home and she wanted to be sure that we would not forget her.

The ride home was a torture. Although roads were pretty vacated, my stuffy sinuses could not cope with the rapid change of air pressure during our decent from the mountains into the lowland, so I really had "something to remember". Tom, too, suffered a slight cold and squealed during most of our way. I don't blame him. Besides stinging in the ears and a headache, I fell half deaf, which did wonders with my sense of balance. Tom refused to eat in Auburn and instead presented us with a hysterical fit, of which Lisa could be proud.

Thus we did not really celebrate New Year's Eve this year. Although we had found our neighbors' invitation at home, I was not in the shape for social calls, and Sid was neither, after a whole day spent behind the wheel. We had hit the sheets by ten -- and if firecrackers heard half-asleep would not invoke in me the image of my child falling out of his/her bed, I would have not registered midnight at all. I only hope that our New Year's pattern won't repeat over the remainder of the new year; Lisa was finishing her antibiotics for her ear infection, Tom got his eye drops, and I was carrying my very own sinus infection (and got my antibiotics on January 2, when doctors would open again; I did not want to spend the holiday in the ER).

Copyright © 2007 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.