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The Wootton family went to Canada. We’re back now. In fact, we’ve been back for a while now, our camping experience in Niagara Falls long since over. Don’t worry. Canada is no worse for wear. The moose still graze comfortably by the highway. The mounties can still find their horses.

The whole trip kind of snuck up on me. We didn’t decide to the head for the Falls until about two months before we actually hooked up the camper to leave. That left us just enough time pick a place to stay, search out our birth certificates so that we could not only leave the country but return, and juggle all the responsibilities of an extended vacation (like packing and picking up beer). Surprisingly, we found other willing participants for the trip. The brother-in-law and his family signed up. An additional camper would be coming with us.

The trip to Niagara Falls was about as pleasant as a nine hour trip with an 18 month old child can be. Unlike when I was wandering the back seat for bread crumbs as a kid, Cambell is stuck in his seat, strapped in like a unwilling rollercoaster passenger. I sympathize with the kid. It’s tough to sit still for so long, particularly at an age when the world is so interesting. I’m happy to report that he was an absolute angel. He slept a lot, kept himself occupied while awake, and only resorted to crying just as we were pulling into the campground. He was even better for the trip home.

I should mention that I think we did a pretty good job planning the traveling part of the trip. Cambell ate while on the move so that when we did stop he could chase butterflies. Nothing is worse than sitting in the car forever and then sitting again to eat lunch. Walkie talkies kept the two vehicles navigating together and served as entertainment when times got boring. We discovered that one strength of having a camper around that has no need to pop up is that your bathroom is available whenever need be, something invaluable when you have a pregnant woman on the trip. I do think of my brother-in-law as more than the carrier of the toilet, I assure you, but I know my wife was relieved that both the toilet (and he) were there.

My impression of the falls themselves and Canada in general was almost universally positive. One of my biggest fears — that I’d stare at the falls for 15 minutes in wonder and then wonder what else there was to do — was unfounded. The Falls were an incredible sight. We visited them in one way or another nearly every day. When my 15 minutes were finally up, there was more than enough to do. Let me be your tour guide a little while and I’ll explain:

The Falls

No trip to Niagara Falls can be discussed without mentioning the Falls themselves. I wondered if such a long trip was worth it just to see a single thing. It was.

For those who aren’t aware of this, Niagara Falls is not one waterfall but two separated by a thin stretch of land called Goat Island. The American Falls are impressive but the Canadian falls are where the action is at. The Canadian Falls, called the Horseshoe Falls, is what most people think of when they think about Niagara Falls. If you ever get a chance to go, visit the Canadian side of the border. Not only does that put you next to the more impressive of the two falls, it gives you a much better perspective to view the both of them.

Obviously, this is the attraction but don’t forget to spend some time there. Check out the river a bit, situated in a deep canyon. Check it out at night when they turn the lights on. Walk to the edge and look down at the drop. Grab a barrel and have some fun.

Tourist Trap

The area immediately around the Canadian side of the falls is the definition of a tourist trap. Noise blares from nearby haunted mansions. Lights blink from the surrounding arcades. It reminded me a little of downtown Tokyo, not that I’ve ever been to Japan.

Video screens and bright letters light up the street at night. The prices are too high. The attractions are a little too tailored to the average folk who is looking for ways to part with their money. I should say that the collection of chain restaurants were useful for eating (although the Rain Forest Cafe may want to turn their lights on; a real-life amazon night settled upon us as their power went out) and the outside free fall rides did provide amusement to both residents of the ground and sky alike. It’s not all bad but not particularly exciting either.

The Skylon Tower

The Skylon Tower provides a bird’s view of the Falls. A meal in the tower gives you a nice, rotating view of the entire area. The meal itself, while rather expensive, was rather yummy. My chicken cordon blue was excellent and more than made up for fear laiden trip up the glass elevator. Me and heights don’t get along. Me and chicken, however, do.

The Whirlpool

I don’t know how much I can actually speak to this one since we didn’t see it up close but I was unimpressed. From afar, it didn’t look like much of a whirlpool to me, leaving us with little reason to see it from above while juggling a child in our lap. I pictured it a giant version of my bathroom tub draining away. I was dissapointed, even with the awesome view.

The Maid of the Mist

A boat ride on the Maid of the Mist is almost a required journey when you visit the Falls. Don’t miss it. It may be the tourist attraction in the area but don’t let that deter you. Embrace your inner sightseer. Don the poncho and grab a seat on the second level, where no roof will obstruct your view.

The boat takes you directly to the base of both falls, actually settling within the horseshoe of Horseshoe Falls at one point. The ride gives you a couple of minutes to really appreciate the power of the falls. It’s the best view of them you are ever likely to get.

These stops barely scratch the surface of the available activities. There was a ton of other stuff to do. Helicopter rides, a journey behind the falls, and jet boat rides — enough left for another whole trip. That’s a good thing. One day we might return.

Note: The pictures above all sport larger versions. Click on them. You know you want to.

A year and a half of parenting instills confidence. You know your child’s schedule. You know your child’s cry. You think you know when to comfort. You think you know when to enforce. Still, a little thing like putting your kid to sleep can shake you up a bit.

The wife and I spent the last hour and a half putting our child to sleep tonight. It was a constant struggle of tears and stress for the child and parents both respectively and consecutively.

I know what you are thinking, particularly if you are a parent yourself. An hour and a half doesn’t sound like that long. Kids act up. It happens. Well, it doesn’t happen to us. At least, it doesn’t happen all that often and it is very rarely a fight of any kind. Out of character is an easy description. Strange alien child with a spinning head is another.

We started by going through the checklist. The diaper feels fine. He doesn’t appear to have a temperature. He ate like a beast during dinner. Oragel was already administered as he attempted to gnaw off his hand earlier in the day.

We then went through his list of possible secondary objectives. He wouldn’t be watching a movie on mommy’s bed tonight. That’s a treat, not a habit. Rocking him to bed, normally no-no in the Wootton household, was an option we partially offered. It was accepted until his back hit the sheets.

We then worried about the storm. Thunder and lightning accompanied his attempts to sleep. Somewhere nearby was getting hammered but the fury wasn’t overhead. Rumblings and faded lightshows rarely bother him. I’d be surprised if that was the problem but you never know. He might have inherited his mother’s fear of God’s bowling practices.

I held him and brought him to the window, opening the blinds so he could see outside. “See the lightning? It’s like fireworks. See the trees swaying in the wind? Hear the thunder? It rumbles.”

He didn’t look worried as I carried him back to his crib. He twisted himself to my shoulder and let out an audible burp. His eyes closed. His problem wasn’t food or a diaper. It wasn’t a fear outside his window or hidden motive he couldn’t communicate. It was gas.

He turned over and went to sleep. I watched him rest, wondering how much and how little I really know.

Wow. Quiet was quite a good description. You can almost hear the crickets chirping in the distance as the tumbleweeds blow by my poor little saloon on the web. This space has been rather empty as of late. I’ve been gone, sometimes in mind and sometimes in body. Perhaps I should explain.

Let’s start with the body part:
I’ve been on vacation. During the week that crossed the boundary between the months of June and July, the Wootton family ventured to Canada. However, my retreat to another country lasted only a single week, not nearly long enough to explain my extended absence.

That leaves a lot of gaps. What did I do with the remaining time? Did I turn into an international man of mystery? Was I bitten by a radioactive spider, only to discover that I was suddenly a human sticky note? Had I climbed Everest? Had I suffered an emotional breakdown? As always, the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

See, my vacation served as an interesting marker of intense activity. Work has been crushing my schedule and, in turn, any opportunity to write in this space.

I spent the week before vacation largely behind the glass of my office windows, feverishly typing away at my keyboard. Long days became long evenings. Long evenings became mornings.

While normally distressing, this type of workload makes me even more uncomfortable when smacked up against a vacation. My preoccupation with my occupation puts undue strain on the wife. She’s the one left to do all the little things that are required to ship a family of three on a week long vacation to a neighboring country. Glorious tasks such as taking the dog to the kennel, collecting food for the trip, packing, and heading to the city to grab birth certificates fall on her plate. I’m left with little time to help.

In turn, I miss out on some of the anticipation. Part of the fun of a vacation is counting down the days until you leave. Marking the calendar makes it feel like you have some place to go. You aren’t rushed out the door at the last minute.

Since returning from our neighbor in the North, my workload has not decreased in a significant way. There’s more work to do and I’ve been working on doing it. I can, however, see the light at the end of the tunnel. It shouldn’t be long before my schedule opens up. It shouldn’t be long before I get my change to decompress from my vacation.

I should mention that the fact that my vacation was sandwiched between two weeks of heavy work didn’t sully the experience at all. I worked, I played, and I worked again. It does, however, mean that my opportunity to blog about it has been delayed. I hope to rectify that in short order.