Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas, Your Flight Has Been Canceled

With family in Minnesota and on the East Coast, Christmas has become a days-long celebration starting in Minnesota with the Cheslas and the Olivers and ending in New Jersey shortly after the actual holiday with the Partenheimers. But when traveling between two locales with the ability to produce snow, I should know that even the best-organized plans can be interrupted by winter storms. Oliver and I were supposed to fly out this evening to Philadelphia so we could celebrate a belated Christmas with my family, but Delta canceled our flight on Christmas Day in advance of the snow that is now falling across the Mid-Atlantic states.

I am quite thankful that Delta decided to err on the conservative side and cancel flights well in advance, which saved me from unnecessary packing, and more importantly, from enduring flight delays and endless hours in an airport with a baby. But Delta, please answer your phones! For over 24 hours now, I've been trying to rebook my flight, but the website isn't showing any "alternative flights" and the reservations line plays a pre-recorded message about not answering calls due to "extreme weather conditions."

If I have to be stuck anywhere, at least I'm "stuck" here at home, where everything is baby-proofed and set up for Oliver. While we wait for flights to open up, I can get a head start on the post-holiday to-do list...or I could just relax. As exciting as Christmas is, it's tiring! I think I need a few days to recover.

I successfully did all my Christmas shopping online this year, saving myself from dragging a baby to the mall, but cleaning the house in time to host Christmas Day lunch ended up being too challenging with a rug rat following me around ready to make a new mess. So Chris took Oliver to his brother's house for the better part of Christmas Eve and while he got to play, I got to clean. The cold that had presented its first symptoms the day before was in full swing and I just about physically wore myself out, but I had received the rare satisfaction of being able to make timely progress on a full-house scrub-down. When our little family reconvened that evening, Chris announced that watching Oliver is tiring too. The recognition of how energy-depleting full-time child-rearing is may have been the best Christmas present ever.

We spent Christmas Eve at Chris's parents house who were hosting the Chesla clan - Grandma Ann and Grandpa Joe, five of their seven children, their spouses, over half of the kids of kids and three great-grandchildren, with a fourth enjoying the festivities in utero. I jokingly describe the Cheslas as being the Polish version of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Oliver is still trying to make sense of this large, boisterous extended family he was born into, but he surprised me by how much he warmed up to a large crowd. His two older cousins arrived with a plastic bin full of toys and despite a room full of people, he happily played with them. At his usual early hour of 6:00 p.m., he was ready for bed and thankfully went down without a protest in the pack 'n' play we had set up in an upstairs bedroom. With Oliver sleeping, Chris and I were able to enjoy dinner, the gift exchange and socializing without interruption.

He was sleeping so soundly that Chris's mom offered to let him stay overnight and she'd bring him over the next morning. It was an attractive offer, but I couldn't bear the thought of missing out on Oliver waking up at home on Christmas morning. Even though he still doesn't know what Christmas is, I'm really sentimental about him being at home and waking up in his own room on the 25th and coming downstairs to see what "Santa" brought. And as thankful as I am to have married into such a large, loving family, I want Christmas morning to be a time Chris and I can call our own with our new family.

As will be the case for years to come, our Christmas morning started early when Oliver woke up around 6:30 a.m. We ate our breakfast, played and then attempted to open gifts, but postponed in favor of a power nap for Oliver. (I suspected another ear infection and today filled the prescription the doctor had given me a week earlier as insurance in case an infection popped up over the holidays or while in New Jersey.) After a nap and a dose of Ibuprofen, Oliver finally joined us for opening gifts. As expected, he didn't quite get it. I would peel a piece of the paper away and tried to talk him into pulling the the tab of paper the rest of the way, but he just sat back and watched me open them. However, he was quite interested in what was emerging from the wrapping paper and happily played with his new gifts. The scene was in quite contrast to last year where he spent the entire gift-opening time nursing.

By noon the Olivers and family friends from Montreal, who are currently living in St. Paul, were over for lunch. Fellow new moms were always surprised to hear I had offered to host on Christmas Day. But this gathering was for immediate family, and since their big meal is on Christmas Eve, their traditional Christmas Day meal consists of soup and sandwiches. And that I could handle. I made the soup a couple of days in advance, bought fresh bread from the coop the day before, and served cookies from the cookie exchange I participated in the weekend before.

It was the low-key Christmas Day I wanted, although with folks gone before the sun had set, I lamented that despite all the anticipation and preparations, Christmas just goes by too quickly every year.