A Year In Hawaii!

Yep, we've made it a year in Hawaii! So, in honor of this momentous occassion, I will try to update my blog about experiences we've had over the last year. I hope I do better than I did updating last year ;)

So, at the end of last year, we were all moved in and settling into our new home. We'd enrolled No. 1 in school, and begun living the Hawaiian life. Then came furloughs. Apparently, Hawaii could not afford to pay their government workers last year due to a budget oversight. So, instead of laying off government workers, they decided to furlough the workers on Fridays (or one day a week) without pay. "No biggie," I think at first. Oh, how wrong I was. Turns out that government workers also means teachers, librarians, parking attendants, road crews, and anyone else you can think of that might be working for the government in any way (except for the military). So, when furloughs went into effect, school is out on Fridays. No school for No. 1. WHAT?!? Hawaii, which has a year-round school schedule, now has the SHORTEST school year in the entire United States. For example, No. 1 attends school from 7:45 a.m. to 2 p.m. every day (short school day, right?). But on Wednesdays, school gets out at 1:10. EVERY Wednesday. Now, school is also out on Fridays. This is in addition to all the school vacations that were already built into the calendar. End result: lots and lots of kids out of school. Oh, and to make it more convenient, let's close all the libraries, the courts, and all government-run parking lots. Joy. There has got to be a better way. Good thing I'm not working!

I also had to get educated about grocery shopping here. Sticker shock does not even begin to cover the feeling you get the first time you go grocery shopping in Hawaii. Some sample prices (without store discount cards, coupons, or sales): Milk:$4.49 a gallon; cereal: $6.48/box; hamburger meat:$3.89/lb; steak:$7.49/lb; eggs: $3.00/dozen. You see what I mean. With four little kiddos in the house, we usually buy four gallons of milk and 6 boxes of cereal every week. Ouch. I have become a coupon-clipping, bargain-hunting crazy woman. The kids have even starting asking if we have a coupon for items they want at the store. "Mom, do we have a coupon for this Barbie?" What about the Commissary, you say. Well, let me tell you something about that. The nearest commissary to my house is 12 miles away. It takes 30 minutes to get there. The prices aren't all that much cheaper than grocery stores off post. And, if you're there a couple days before or after payday, they mark the prices up. That's right, they change the prices in the commissary before payday. And then there's the surcharge. Can anybody tell me what the actual percentage the surcharge is, because the cashiers at the Commissary can't. And last time I did the math, it was more than sales tax. And then you have to tip your baggers to get them to take the groceries out to the car, which is free off post. So, we shop local. And I'm not sorry. I have my grocery store discount cards, which are free, and I use them like crazy. Saved almost $100 off my grocery order with coupons last week. :)

We experienced our first Hawaiian Christmas last year. I have to admit that it's hard to get into the Christmas spirit when it's 85 degrees outside, but then it's also really cool to be on the beach on Christmas Day. Hawaiians LOVE Christmas, and they really go all out with decorations. They have snow flown in for some of the elementary school students to play in around this time of year, and there are Christmas parties galore to attend. The girls seemed to really like the idea of shorts in the middle of winter, too. I got some really cute Hawaiian shirt Christmas cards, and I only got a small bit of glee out of rubbing the fact that I was in Hawaii in the faces of my family and friends ;)

The beginning of 2010 was and experience in and of itself. Apparently, Hawaiians have a great affinity for fireworks. They buy them in HUGE quantities, and they use them often. New Years was an experience I will never forget. You could smell gunpowder in the air by 4 p.m. on December 31. By 9 p.m., I was watching my husband for signs of a PTSD episode. Seriously, he even said it was like being in Baghdad again. Midnight was crazy. Fireworks, firecrackers, explosions, smoke and all kinds of noise. Wow.

February was pretty quiet, then we moved on to March. Some friends of ours came to visit with us from Oklahoma. See http://okiesinhawaii.blogspot.com for photos and details from our friends the McConaghys. We got to experience our first Hawaiian St. Patty's Day, which was an adventure. Hubby decided to wear his kilt, which happened to be one of only two we saw the entire night. And yes, there are Irish pubs in Honolulu, but we ended up spending most of the evening at the Yard House in Waikiki. We also stayed at the Sheraton Waikiki, which totally blows the Hale Koa out of the water. They have great Kama'aina and military discounts, and the pool area there is outstanding. Definitely highly recommended. We visited the Dole Plantation, Halona Blowhole, North Shore Marketplace, Hanauma Bay, USS Missouri, USS Arizona memorial, USS Bowfin, USS Oklahoma memorial, and USS Utah, and Ford Island all in one week. So, here are some quick reviews of these places, for those who want to know:

Sheraton Waikiki: Nice hotel rooms, but good luck finding the elevator call buttons. Downstairs elevator lobby has a kind of Alice in Wonderland kind of feel with all the elevator doors and the shape of the room. Lobby has a coffee shop, a couple of restaurants, and several shops geared toward tourists. Right on the beach. Has an adults-only pool area with cabanas for an extra fee. Has a great kid-friendly pool area with water slides, which No. 1 and No. 2 LOVE. Very close to high-end shopping (think Cartier, Tiffany's, Ralph Lauren, Coach, etc.).

Yard House Waikiki: Stumbling distance from the Sheraton Waikiki, and pretty close to Senor Frogs. Spent most of St. Patty's here. They have a large number of exotic beers on tap. I tried a chocolate beer of some sort (very filling) and some kind of French beer that tasted like sour lemons (ick). Staff here was attentive, friendly, and the atmosphere was nice. Would visit again given the chance.

Dole Plantation: Tourist trap. Let me say that again: TOURIST TRAP. This place charges for everything but the bathrooms and the small pineapple garden. Food is outrageously overpriced, as are most of the items for sale in the large gift shop. This place is also out in the middle of nowhere, so keep that in mind. There is a neat train ride, which costs $6 per person to ride, a separate garden, which is also $6 a person, and the World's Largest Maze, which is also, you guessed it: $6 a person to walk through. The pineapple ice cream is about the only thing worth really buying here, unless you want to pay $30 to ship a pineapple home to your loved ones. And if you're lucky enough to be there when the tour buses full of Japanese tourists are there, this place gets crowded really fast. And due to the Japanese Tourist Effect, I get stopped often so that they can take pictures of my kids.

Halona Blowhole: This is a small stopping spot on the Windward side of Oahu. Blowhole is only really active on days when the surf is up. Small beach at the same spot is the beach where they filmed the kissing scene in From Here to Eternity. Nice little stop off if you're driving up the Windward side. And it's free!

Hanauma Bay: Very very nice bay. Excellent snorkeling/scuba diving here. Closed on Tuesdays. Costs $1 per car load to park. FREE ADMISSION FOR ACTIVE DUTY MILITARY!! Children under 12 also free. There is a snack bar and gift shop at the entrance. If it's your first time visiting, there is a short 9-minute video about reef conservation that is required. After you watch the video, you can write your name on a list so that you don't have to watch the video again for a full year. After the video, you have two choices: walk down the steep hill to the beach or take the tram. If you are traveling with older people or small children, I highly recommend that you pay for the round trip all day as many times as you need it. I think this costs around $3.50 a person, but it's been a while since I've been there. The tram costs $0.50 to go downhill, but it's $1.00 to come back up. This is because the paved walkway down to the beach is STEEP and LONG. Please, save yourself some grief, and pay for the tram. Get there early so you can get yourself a nice shady spot under the trees. The water is here calmer than other beaches due to a barrier reef, so it's more kid friendly. The water here is also shallow and clear on most days, and there is abundant sea life to be seen. FYI: You can bring your own snacks! The only snack bar is up at the top of the hill at the entrance. There are changing rooms, showers, restrooms, snorkel rentals and an information booth on the beach.

USS Arizona Memorial, USS Missouri, USS Bowfin, USS Oklahoma memorial, USS Utah, and Ford Island: Go to all these places with someone in the military, if you know someone. The tickets for the USS Arizona Memorial are FREE to the public, but they are first-come, first-serve. Get there early! They have recently opened a new visitor's center at Pearl Harbor, which is very nice. It is FREE to visit the visitor's center, watch the video about the attach on Pearl Harbor, and see the outdoor exhibits. The visitor's center is also where you will pay your admission fees for the USS Bowfin and the Pacific Aviation Museum. I don't know how much those cost, because I haven't done them. The Bowfin is not recommended for children under the age of 4, and my then-four-year-old was creeped out by the confined spaces on board. There is a very nice man who sells ice cream cones for $2 outside the Pacific Aviation Museum. This is the cheapest ice cream I have seen since we've been here, and all proceeds go to the museum. The USS Arizona Memorial is a great experience, and it is highly recommended for anyone, but not exactly kid friendly. My four and 6-year-olds did okay, but were tired of waiting and being quiet by the time we got out to the memorial. If you know someone in the military, DO NOT pay to take the tour bus over to Ford Island to see the USS Missouri. They will cram you onto a bus full of tourists for the trip over there. If you know someone in the military, use their military privileges to drive their car over to Ford Island in peace and comfort. Free parking is readily available right next to the USS Oklahoma and the USS Missouri. I also recommend driving around the ghost of the old airstrip on Ford Island. You can see the submarine control tower that was featured in the movie Pearl Harbor from the comfort of your car. On the opposite side of Ford Island from the USS Missouri is the USS Utah memorial. There is NEVER anyone at this memorial. It's hidden behind some housing on the other side of Ford Island, and hardly anyone knows it's there. This sunken battleship is visible above the waterline, and it's free to visit.

On renting a high-end car in Oahu: Yes, you can rent a Ferrari here. The thing is, there are only three interstate highways here, and the max speed limit on those highways is 55. Then there's the issue of traffic. There's a lot of it. Really. The other roads on Oahu are small, two-lane roads with a max speed limit of 35. And traffic. There are zero straightaways anywhere on the island, so unless you know somebody who will let you drive that Ferrari on one of the runways here, your chances of having the fun experience of driving really fast in a really fast car are just about zero. You can decide from here if you want to waste your money.

That's about it for today. More to follow (and hopefully I'll get to post some pictures!).

First Visitors

So, we're moved in, we're unpacked. Let's enroll No. 1 in school. Off we go to what I thought was the nearest elementary school. Turns out, certain streets in our subdivision actually go do the new elementary school, which is closer to our house. Yes! We can walk to school every day! So I go into the office, present all required documents, and fill out paperwork. The very nice lady at the front office desk informs me that No. 1 needs a TB test. "We got those done before we left Texas. It's on her shot record." Here is yet another moving to Hawaii glitch that is not posted ANYWHERE on any web site about moving to Hawaii. It's not even on the Hawaii Health Department website: YOUR CHILD MUST HAVE BOTH THE DATE THE TB TEST WAS ADMINISTERED AND THE DATE IT WAS READ ON THEIR SHOT RECORD!!! The reading date and result are not enough. By the time we are informed of this little glitch, it is too late in the day on a Friday to call Texas and have them fax me the information. A lot of phone calls and a week later, my six-year-old is finally allowed to go to school.
We have friends coming to town for a birthday party. We have no sitter. We have no friends we can ask to baby sit. I can't even get an appointment to sign the kids up for daycare until the middle of November. Swell. So I call my mom. She volunteers to come out to Hawaii (I had to twist her arm really hard), and watch the kids during the birthday party. AWESOME!!
Mom and her hubby come out to visit. We spend our time driving around the island looking around. We go see the Pali lookout, which is a really neat way to see the Windward side of the island. Mom purchases a really neat basket made on the spot by a guy. Pretty cool. We drive up to the North Shore to check it out. Get to see some turtles in the surf. Very cool. We even visit the Dole plantation, which is the biggest tourist trap ever. Mom gets to witness the Japanese tourist effect, where they stop me to take pictures of the kids. We get to go to the birthday party without the kids. Our first kid-free day for two months!
We had a blast at the party. I got to walk on the beach with my friend Paige. She spent most of our walk complaining because there was no sea life in the tide pools. Just as she was saying something to the effect of 'this sucks' I turn around a see a monk seal laying no less than 30 feet from where we're standing. Many pictures ensue, and we try to encourage some local kids NOT to poke the seal with a stick. All in all, it was great.
We're settling in pretty well. Futon space is available at our house any time. Come on out!

The Movers Arrive

We finally got a house, and our household goods are arriving, like, NOW! The movers arrive at our new digs bright and early the next morning. A crew of just three guys shows up with two trucks. They inform me that another crew will be there with another truck of stuff later. Holy cow, I forgot we have this much stuff! So the craziness of unloading all our worldly possessions begins.
Now, our new house has parking in the street in front of the house, which is taken up by all the neighbor's cars. So the movers pull around to the back of the house, which means that all our stuff has to be brought into the garage or through the back gate, across the back yard, and then inside the house. I am so glad I don't work for a moving company. Eight hours later, all of our stuff is in the house. My dining room table has two HUGE gouges across the top, my king-size headboard is now missing a finial, and the baby's changing table/dresser is now missing all four legs. All the glassware is intact, and the packers even made sure that not a pencil was broken (they used two sheets of wrapping paper to wrap 5 pencils. Really.) I'm slightly miffed about the large furniture damage, but hey, we're in Hawaii.
We get all the beds set up, and we all get to spend a peaceful night in SEPARATE ROOMS!!! I can't hear it when No. 4 rolls over in her sleep. I can't hear it when No. 1 jumps on No. 2 and makes her squeal like a pig.
As I'm getting ready to drift off, there is a large BANG. Turns out we live about 2 miles as the crow flies from the Coast Guard air station. They use pyro to keep the birds off the landing field. Every night. After 9 p.m. Joy.

Settling In...Sorta...

We arrived in Honolulu relatively unscathed. Got checked into our hotel rooms at the Hale Koa hotel in Waikiki. We spend a couple of uneventful days visiting the beach, the Bishop Museum, and just lounging around. Then closterphobia sets in. We've been in and out of hotel rooms, other people's houses, minivans, trains, and airplanes for almost a month now, and I am in serious need of a room that is not connected in any way with the one that our children are sleeping in. Not to mention that it would be nice to shower and pee without an audience. We're having to pay out of pocket for all of our meals, and it's needless to say, expensive. Our hotel rooms are equipped with a mini fridge, but no available cooking surfaces.
So, in the effort to get us out of the hotel, I take the initiative and call the housing office at Ft. Shafter. Nothing available for three months. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. So I called Schofield Barracks. Nothing. I then call the Navy, and the Marine Corps. Again, nothing. No housing availability whatsoever. Great. So, I get on my trusty laptop, pay $9 to get on the internet in our hotel room (boo), and begin searching for houses.
The house search takes THREE DAYS! We looked at exactly zero houses in the first two days. We burned up two tanks of gas driving all over the island looking at houses. If you've never been to Oahu, housing here is very very different. Not only is housing here extremely expensive, its, well, small. The first several houses we drove by were a combination of tiny, ugly, dirty, nasty, or in bad neighborhoods. And another little hitch: people don't put FOR RENT signs up here. You either have to be an internet guru or actually know someone who knows someone. As we're sitting in the driveway waiting on another realtor to show us another too-small house, I use my trusty blackberry in a last ditch effort to find something worth it. Bingo. Two houses pop up. So, I call. First phone number is disconnected. Second phone number goes to voice mail. I leave a message, figuring it'll be another two days of nightmarish hotel hell before we get a call back. The house is an ugly orange-sherbet color in the picture, and honestly doesn't look that appealing, but at this point I'm about ready to camp on the beach. While we're still waiting (realtor is by now 15 minutes late), my phone rings. It's the realtor for the other house. He happens to be at the property right now, and he can show it to us now. So, we ditch the too small house with the late realtor for the possibility of another prospect. We program the address into the new GPS, and off we go. (BTW, I'm still a HUGE GPS fan). The GPS guides us down a small, two-lane road. At this point, my husband begins to question my real estate sanity. "Where the hell are you taking us?" he asks. My sarcasm kicks into overdrive, and I reply,"Yes, I have found us a beat up trailer in the sticks." I receive the traditional husband grunt in reply. Our little two-lane road passes a really smelly water treatment plant, then a golf course. Other than the smell, this is looking promising. The two lane road comes to a stop light on a four-lane, manicured road. The houses are....nice. There is a park.....there is mowed grass....there are palm trees lining the streets....there are crosswalks.....A couple of turns later and we arrive at the orange-sherbet house. From the street, it's not so orange. It's more of a light terra cotta. The neighborhood is quiet. In fact, there's not much noise at all. The front door is standing open, so we herd the kids in the house to look. Brad, the realtor, is waiting to greet us. The house is cool, calm, and has a vaulted ceiling in the entryway. There are two living spaces, a dining room, kitchen with an island, office space upstairs, four bedrooms and 2 and a half bathrooms. AWESOME!!! This is the first and only house we've actually be inside in our three day search. It's perfect. Other than the fact that it's 30 minutes from Ft. Shafter, where my husband will be working. My glorious husband knows that I have reached my hotel room limit, and gallantly takes one for the team. He agrees to commute every day so we can get out of the hotel. Bless you, honey!!! We sign the paperwork, pay our deposit, and hustle back to the hotel to begin packing.
When we arrive back at the hotel, there is a message from the movers. Our household goods are available for delivery the next day. Good thing we found a house, huh?

Aloha!

We have finally made it to the airport in L.A.! Hawaii (and the beach) is mere hours away! After months and months and months of planning, orders changes, packing, and hauling crap all over creation, we are within reach of the promised land. Woohoo!
Our flight to Honolulu departed from LAX on time, and yes, we and all of our baggage were actually on the plane. If you've ever traveled with even one small child, you know that by now I am terrified that my children will behave like the typical heathen children that they are and run screaming through the plane for the next five hours. Enter the mommy plan: ear plugs for the kids and all surrounding passengers, followed by a first course of benadryl for the kiddos. This, surprisingly enough, seemed to work. We managed to survive the flight relatively unscathed, even if I did have to go into the teeny airplane bathroom at least once with each child. Houdini even slept for about half the flight, which meant that I didn't have to spend that time making sure that she was still in her seat and not trying to decompress the cabin by opening the door. The in-flight movie happened to be Gray Gardens..eh....alrighty.
So, we land in Honolulu, and the luggage circus begins again. I had already reserved us another rental mini van, so the plan was to go downstairs to the baggage claim, get the luggage, and leave my poor husband with all four kids and 13 bags while I took the shuttle bus to get the rental car.
Enter....my husband's sponsor! Finally, an Army program that comes through like it's supposed to! His sponsor, who is a very nice and very very patient man, immediately sizes up the catastrophe in progress and calls for reinforcements in the form of more soldiers with big vans. He also offers to take me over to get the rental car. So off we go. Rental car acquired, we return to the terminal in time for the other vans to arrive, but due to the fact that I have rented a van, and SuperSponsor has a large SUV, we wave off the reinforcements. Thanks, anyway! We load up both vehicles and I pause to marvel that we even got all that stuff into one van in the first place.
If you've never PCS'ed to Hawaii, then here's a little tip: when you get here, you MUST drive all the way from Honolulu to Schofield Barracks and check in at the Inn there. At the Inn, they have a little deli with frosty beverages. The pleasant staff there will politely inform you and your hot and sweaty jet-lagged party that you must now turn around and go back to downtown Honolulu to the Hale Koa Hotel in Waikiki. Don't get me wrong, even though this adds about an hour to your settling in time, this is actually a good thing.
The Hale Koa in Waikiki is AWESOME. Let me say that again: It is AWESOME! The lobby itself is completely open air, and there is a HUGE banyan tree named Gus in the courtyard just inside the lobby. We were given adjoining rooms at the end of the fifth floor with NO neighbors. The kids got their room, and Hubby and I had ours. Woohoo! Not only that, our rooms each had their own balcony with a stunning view of both the ocean and downtown Honolulu. Very very cool. This is yet another thing that the military has done well for it's beneficiaries. Thank you!
After we spent some time settling in, we meandered downstairs for dinner at one of the restaurants at the hotel. By now, No. 1 has figured out that we're finally in Hawaii, and her focus in life has become the beach. She wants to go to the beach. Now. Right now. She doesn't want to eat dinner, she doesn't want to rest, she wants to go to the beach. Of course, it's getting dark, so no beach. She has to be content with seeing the beach from the open air porch at the restaurant. Bummer. After a tasty dinner, we all go back upstairs and turn in. Aloha and good night!

L.A. Day Two

Having picked up our second rental mini van, and spent a peaceful night, we decided to check out the sights in L.A. Discussion was given to the merits of the La Brea Tar Pits, Disneyland, and many other places. We finally settled on the Museum of Natural History and the California Science Museum. So we loaded the brood in the van, and took off for the museum. When I rented this van, I decided to throw in a Garmin GPS with the rental. This turned out to be a very good decision because a) we didn't have a map of L.A., and b) I didn't want to spend the whole time arguing about where we were going. So we plugged our intended destination into the GPS, and off we go. Ten minutes later, we arrive at our destination only to discover that there are no less than five museums all in the same spot, and that the L.A. Olympic Arena is also right there. And we've forgotten the camera. Great.
So we find a place to park, get the kids out of the car, and head in to the science museum. This is the hands-on type of museum, and it's actually got a lot of really cool stuff in it. Out in the parking lot, you can try to pick up a truck. Really. The girls were actually able to do it (with a little help from Dad). The thing the kids seemed most impressed by was the HUGE gift shop inside the museum and the fact that there's also a McDonalds in the museum. Admission to the museum itself is free (donations are requested). There are three floors to the museum, with lots of things to try. The girls had fun running around and generally making us crazy. After the science museum, we walked next door to the Museum of Natural History. Admission there was $9 per person, but the museum was pretty neat. I was very Night At the Museum kinda feeling, with lots of dioramas and stuffed animals to see. Unfortunately, the dinosaur exhibit was closed for remodeling. Somewhere on the upper floors, though, they have a real working fossil lab where you can watch techs dremmel away the stone surrounding fossils found in the field.
After the museum, we went back to the hotel, and had another uneventful evening.
The next morning, we got up before the rooster. This was the morning of our flight. Our flight departed around 9-ish, so we planned to be at the airport no later than 7. This also coincided with the time I had to return our rental van, so we proceeded with the rush to the airport, unload all our luggage and run like hell to turn in the van plan. We got everybody up, ate breakfast in record time. Crammed all our luggage back in the van, loaded up, and drove down the street to the airport. As is the case with every other airport I've ever been to, there is only a one-lane loading zone in front of the departures area. We pull up, hubby jumps out of the car and starts to unload. We start the check-in process with the SkyCap at the corner, who checks all of us in for the flight, then proceeds to check the luggage in. For those of you who may not have read my earlier blog, we had 13 bags to check. That's right. THIRTEEN BAGS. (Of course, that's counting two car seats, a stroller, and a portacrib.) So hubby is getting the bag checked, and I notice that the motorcycle cops are like white on rice for people parked in the loading zone. I'm trying to communicate this to the hubby, but he just gives me the it'll be fine wave off. So I go and stand next to the van with the kids still in it right as a cop shows up. I assume my best frazzled mommy face and quickly explain to the officer that we're trying to get checked in. My husband is with the luggage, and I have the kids in the rental car. The cop lets me go. Thank GAWD! We finally get checked in, unload the kids, and I hop in the van to race over to Alamo and turn in the van.
I have to give props to the folks at Alamo. They have streamlined the rental process with barcode scanners. All you do is pull up, let them scan the car, get out and take off. Great. And they have a shuttle that goes right back to the airport. So, van turned in and back to the airport I go.
Get there, potty breaks, gate check in, and we're on the plane to Hawaii. ALO-HA!

All Aboard!

Okay, so we've gotten on the train. I reserved us the largest single room available on the train, the Family Bedroom. This room takes up the entire width of the train car, and is at one end of the lower level of the car we're on. When you board the train, you enter on the lower level of the car, and there are hallways (NARROW hallways) going both left and right. If you bear left, there are three restrooms, one shower, and the handicapped bedroom. If you bear right, there are three small rooms, the stairs to the upper level, the luggage rack, and the family bedroom. While the hubby sorts out the carry on baggage, I stuff our kids down the hallway (did I mention it was narrow?) to the family bedroom. Needless to say, it's 10 p.m. CST, and all is quiet -- except us. The kids are very excited to be on a train for the first time ever, and they're literally bouncing off the walls. As we're trying to cram like sardines through the doorway of our room, one of our fellow passengers slams open her room door, gives me the stink eye, and slams it closed again. Sorry lady, but if you wanted a quiet trip, you shouldn't have booked the room next door to the family bedroom. I do, in fact, feel pretty bad about the noise we are making, but I think it is better to get them all contained than to try to quiet them at this point. So, we get everyone crammed into the room. Actually, the room is quite spacious by railroad standards. There are two upper single bunks (one long and one shorter), and two bottom bunks. One of the bottom bunks is a double bed, and one is a single. We hoist the oldest two girls into the upper bunks, and secure them in their bunks with the luggage webbing provided. No kidding, you literally put up the luggage webbing to keep them from falling out. Then the plan was to get the younger two to go to sleep and put them both in the small bed. Riiiiiiight. Number 3 (Houdini) decides at this point that sleep is highly overrated. She's had ample time to get her second wind from the car ride and has absolutely no intention of sleeping in a weird bed on a moving train. Great. So much baby wrestling and threatening later, I end up in the double bed with Houdini, and my poor hubby ends up hanging onto six square inches of bunk edging. Poor guy. Number 4 peacefully drifts off in her car seat. We make several stop throughout the night, not all of which I actually wake up for.
Early the next morning, we decide to take breakfast in shifts. Hubby takes One and Two up to the dining car for breakfast, while I wait in the room with Three and Four. When he returns, I take Three up to the dining car for breakfast. The dining car is quite an experience. If you've never been on a train and/or had a meal on one, I highly recommend it. When you purchase a first class ticket on Amtrak, your meals are included in your ticket price (let me hear it for all-inclusive). Breakfast was fresh juice and coffee with an omelet for me and two scrambled eggs with bacon for Houdini. Houdini took all of two seconds to wolf down her breakfast and then spent the rest of the time trying to make sure I spilled mine. Seating in the dining car is first-come-first-serve, and you will end up sitting with people you don't know. This is a great way to get to know your fellow passengers, provided you don't have a screaming toddler wallowing all over your lap. The lady we sat with was fortunately very patient with us, and we finished breakfast without too much difficulty. To get to and from the dining car, we had to go up the stairs (again, NARROW) and through the upper levels of two other cars. The girls loved this, especially when it was time to transition between cars. The doors between cars on the upper levels are controlled by flat, rectangular hand switches. You basically slap the black rectangle to open the door. I might also mention that the switch just happens to be right at the eye level of a four-year-old. The girls were instantly in a rush to see who could slap the switch first. Joy.
Having eaten, and returned to our room, we settled in for the rest of our trip. For those who are attached to your electronics, you might as well forget it. There are no wi-fi, internet, TV, phone service, or even power outlets in the room. So we're stuck in a room the size of a walk-in closet with no electronic babysitter. Ha.
I do have to admit, the scenery is just plain awesome. We hit a big dust storm shortly after breakfast, and it was something to see from the train. There was lots of wildlife to see (caribou, elk, deer, and even a bear). And several of the towns that the train stops in are straight out of history. Very cool.
About the time we hit Santa Fe, I realize we are out of formula and diapers for Four. Being that we can't just do without these items, the hubby valiantly volunteers to scout for supplies. He leaves the girls and I at the station, returning less than an hour later with the necessities. He said that the cab driver took pity on him and waited for him outside the pharmacy while he ran in and got the goods. So, thanks to the cabby in Santa Fe!
We passed the rest of the trip in relative peace, with the exception of a complaint from the Stink Eye Lady next door. Apparently, the kids were disturbing her. Puh-lease. Apparently, she even got so loud about it, that the other passengers heard her fussing. I sat with several of them at dinner on our final day, and they were more upset that she had complained than they were about our kids. It's nice to have people on your side.
Once we got to L.A., things got kinda nuts. We had a LOT of luggage, and had to haul it from one end of Union Station to the other. Now, Union Station in L.A. is huge. So by the time we got to the baggage claim, we were all breathing hard. Then we had to get all of the checked bags, and find transportation to the hotel. Now, this was a detail that escaped me when I booked our accommodation in L.A. I neglected to consider the fact that the Hilton LAX would not have a shuttle bus from the train station. Duh. So, thirty minutes, a bunch of cussing, and a bunch of luggage hauling later, we managed to find a cab that was a mini van. Now, this mini van was not big enough to hold everything and us at the same time. But the cab driver (who just happened to be Russian) was patient and helped us cram (and I do mean CRAM) all of our belongings into the cab. We had had to travel with the car seats for three of the kids, so we installed two of those in the back bench seat, then had One squeeze in between them. Good thing she's skinny. We packed luggage in the floor underneath their feet, and in the walkway between the captains seats in the second row. We also filled the front passenger seat with luggage, and put Four in her car seat in one of the second row seats. That left one seat open....for two people. By now, I look at my poor, beaten up husband, and decide that I will let him have the seat. I then proceed to cram my 5'10" frame on top of the luggage in the center aisle. My husband then takes the remaining seat. Several lectures about auto safety later, we take off for the hotel. Our cabby does an awesome job of hauling us halfway across L.A. to the Hilton LAX, and drops us at the door. The bellhop manages to load all of our luggage on one cart (I had no idea they could hold that much) and totes it to the desk, where we finally get checked in. We haul everyone up to the fifth floor to our room, which is cool, quiet, and seemingly far away from any other human being. Maybe we won't get a noise complaint tonight.