A Christmas Narrative

Morgan (11 mo.), Kendra (4), and Ashlyn (4 1/2 mo.)

Ashlyn and daddy

Lane scoring big

Ash getting into the holiday spirit.

The Pedersen's in Montana

Lane with his snowman.

Ash opening her new jewelry box.

We would be flying out on December 21 and returning to Portland on December 27. How were we to know that those plans would be ever-so-altered once the real "Arctic Blast" arrived in the Pacific Northwest? We began with a night at a PDX hotel to provide parking and quick access to the airport, which seemed like such a logical plan. As we drove up to the terminal, what we saw resembled a ghost town; not a person in sight. The inside confirmed the sad truth: no flights would be departing for the rest of the day. Most of the jets were covered with a thick layer of ice, ice that the airlines were not equipped to remedy in the Portland area. Thus began our sad trip back home. We would indeed be spending most of the holiday in Sherwood, rescheduled to fly out on the evening of December 25.

Then it snowed. It snowed, and it snowed, accumulating to almost 2 feet. The ground still a white frosting, when we arrived back to the airport on December 25, the signs were much better. Most flights were departing on schedule, and our trip seemed to be continuing as planned. In the air to Salt Lake City, Ashlyn asleep on my lap, chaos seemed to start immediately. Ashlyn began crying and screaming at the top of her lungs, which we figured was the result of air pressure affecting her ears. Five minutes into the crying, and my counting the minutes until we land, the pilot announces "Sorry, folks, there has been a change of plans. Salt Lake City airport is temporarily closed due to a snow storm, so we are landing in Boise until further notice. We will refuel there, and we anticipate quite a back up with planes needed to land in Salt Lake." So, there we were-- on the runway, Ashlyn still upset, the airplane about 80 degrees with no air circulation, just sitting there. It was miserable. Were we going to complete that leg of the flight---every bone in our bodies just wanted to turn around and go back to Portland. Were we going to be able to catch our connecting flight to Billings in time? Probably not.
In route to Salt Lake at last. This time we prepared with a small dose of Infant Tylenol to our dear Ashlyn. Low visibility combined with my fear of flying, I was dreading every minute of this flight. Minutes later, the ground was in sight, only a few feet below, and we landed smoothly on a bed of snow. Plows were working vigorously to clear runways, and our flight would be one of the last to land until conditions improved. Once inside the airport, people were everywhere. We were informed that our connecting flight departed hours ago, that we would need to stay the night and depart the following day at 2:55. It sounded easy. They gave us a voucher for a hotel at reduced price, and we could catch a shuttle outside the airport. However, they failed to mention that there were hundreds of other stranded people hoping to do the same thing. It seemed hopeless. Outside waiting for a shuttle at 1:00 a.m. and what were we going to do? We were all tired--Ashlyn's bedtime was hours ago--as the snow was pelting us in the face. Then we decided to take a risk. We hopped on a Marriot shuttle, unsure if there would be a room available, and ended up being able to stay there. Thankfully, we had the funds to cover the cost; a bed, crib, and breakfast in the morning were wonderful items for sure. (Of course, our bags were still at the airport somewhere, but we acquired an overnight kit from Delta.)
Our clothes would be worn for the 2nd day, and I would be in public without make-up. Tragic for sure. But, our flight the next day was on time. Not quite. We would again sit on the aircraft for almost two hours waiting for a "crew person" that needed to be on this flight. Angrily, I wondered why we needed to wait that long for one of their people? Just the day prior we needed a flight to wait for us that had no qualms about leaving... so unfair. Nevertheless, our flight departed for our final destination, and we arrived for our Christmas celebration at almost 7:00 on December 26. We were in decent condition-- only 2 of our 3 bags, really ripe clothes--but we were all together, and that's all that mattered.
What seemed like an interminable nightmare for our family, the youngest only 4 months old, turned out to be a really good time. We laughed as we told the story of our adventure. Days later we realized that Ashlyn was probably in pain because of a new tooth-- her very first one. Lane was so patient, despite confusion, and willing to help out in any way possible. We explained to him that challenges like these happen all the time for adults, and good problem-solving skills is key to survival. Overall, it was an enjoyable, relaxing trip, and Gramma Jan's cooking and treats were awesome! Grandpa Bill's sledding adventure and trip to the indoor water park also made it memorable. We were spoiled for sure!!