Well, That Was a Trip!!

So I just recently got back from a trip to Kentucky to visit my dad with my youngest child....my girl and I had quite the adventure I must say! And I learned a lot about myself and about parenting, which you would think after four kids there wouldn't be much else to learn, but by golly I think it is definitely a lifetime of learning!!

Before we left I was panic-stricken about traveling alone with a baby....I have never in my life gone anywhere by myself, let alone with another person I am responsible for!  I did not think I could do it - didn't think I was smart enough to find my way, didn't think I could handle the baby in a strange place, didn't think we would get there in one piece.

All of my fears were for nothing though, seeing as I have

1.  the best baby on the face of the planet, who loved the plane ride, had no issues with her ears, being stuck in a seat, being quiet, or rushing at top speeds through an airport on little to no napping....

2.  completely underestimated myself and my abilities of getting the job done...

3.  a wonderful, amazing, gracious God on my side who was with me the entire way.

On our first flight we sat next to a cranky woman who seemed to hate kids and just wanted to read her biography on the Obama's while she highlighted random sentences like "Obama likes the color red."  Despite Emerson's numerous attempts to win her over she would just nudge her tiny hand away with her elbow and read on.....jerk.  Whatever, we had a great time playing with her puppy and kitty and reading her books about puppies and kitties (can you tell what her latest obsession is?).

On the second flight we got lucky and no one sat next to us so Emmy got her very own seat!  She did so good but started to get bored towards the end so mommy whipped out God's gift to mothers who need to get their kids to magically behave in public - sugar.

Little Em sat happily smiling away and hamming it up as she sucked on her first ever lollipop. :)

In between flights we had a nice brisk sprint to the end of the airport to make the shuttle bus, which drove us a mile to another section, where we got to sprint again to our terminal before the plane left - ahhhh just made it!!

When we finally touched down we had to drive two hours to my dad's house - needless to say, when we finally got there we were trashed.....but we had a fabulous time with papaw and my extended family who had  never seen the baby before in person.

So all too soon the trip was over and it was time to come home - it began with a drive back to the airport and a long wait at ticketing where they said they could not get the baby's boarding pass to print and that I needed to get it at the terminal.....then a mad dash to security where they told me I could not get through without her boarding pass and that ticketing was full of crap for saying that....then a dash back to ticketing to force them to print the pass...and back to security which is a barrel of laughs all on its own.....

After security was the usual break-neck sprint (seriously have never run that fast pushing a stroller in my life) to the terminal where I arrived just in time to see my airplane pulling away from the gate........

After slightly panicking and fighting back tears of frustration and helplessness, I began the long walk back to ticketing to find out when the next flight was....only to discover that even if I got on it I would not make it back to Albany until the next day (it was 7pm at night already).

I made plans to leave the next morning at 7am sharp and then realized that I had a few slight problems....

1.  if I rode back to my dad's house I would have to get up at 330 in the morning in order to make it back to the airport in the morning....

2.  I may have missed my flight but my suitcase and car seat were on their way to Philly, leaving me stranded at the airport without a way to legally leave it....

3.  I had a very tired, very hungry baby and literally nothing but the clothes on our backs....

I knew I had to pull it together, so I told my dad (who had stayed behind, praise the Lord!) that we were going to drive illegally (without a car seat) to the nearest store to buy one, then find a hotel room.

We got a car seat and some snacks and got a room at the nearest hotel, which boasted a room with double beds, a ghetto crib, and absolutely no white noise at all.  At 930pm we decided to just turn the lights out in hopes that the baby would go to sleep somehow, so I got into my bed fully dressed in my jeans and t shirt, still sweaty, with dirty teeth, and listened to my daughter whine in the crib that was inches from me.

Somehow my dad managed to fall asleep, and God love him, he started snoring so loud it scared Emerson, who began crying loudly....I put her in my bed with me and debated using the last bars I had on my phone to play a white noise app....I decided against it but after 4 hours of tossing and turning with Em, I said screw it and bought the dang thing - ahhhhhh....lovely pouring rain.......

She finally fell asleep and began thrashing around, hitting me in the face with her little fists until the alarm went off at 5am, when we both eagerly sprang out of bed and we all left for the airport - with a dead cell phone - ugghhh...oh well, it was worth it....

We made it back to the airport and to the terminal, filthy, smelly, and utterly exhausted, but after 3 hours of flying, 2 hours of sprinting through airports, and 1 baggage claim later, we made it safely home.......home......home......

Even though the end was rough, I am so grateful we were able to go - we had a wonderful time.  I learned lots things that week - the best lesson being that I can do anything with God on my side, and that when a crisis occurs I am capable of handling much more than I ever thought I could - so if you have feelings of insecurity as a parent, remember that you are "braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."  :)

Confessions of a Stomach Bug

So two weeks ago my kids came down with a nasty stomach virus.  You know the type - and if you don't, let's just say it was not the pukes.  I actually think my husband started it - but it is hard to tell since he seems to constantly suffer from bowel issues (at least that is his excuse for spending way too much time in the bathroom - he might be just trying to escape from his family for a while to play angry birds....)

Anyways, I totally thought I was in the clear...the kiddos seemed better, and my in-laws even offered to take them on Saturday so we could go out ALONE.....I know what you are thinking, and you are so right...

It was too good to be true.

After the hubster drops them off so I can leisurely get ready (which means getting to do both my makeup and my hair instead of choosing between them), we head to the mall.  As soon as we enter LLBean to buy our son his first backpack for Kindergarten, I feel that sudden rumbling that says all is definitely not well.  I try to ignore it, but it quickly evolves into that sharp terrible agony that doubles you over.  My hands feel clammy, my head feels hot, and I have this overwhelming sensation that everyone is staring at me.

After spending quite a while in their surprisingly homey bathroom, nothing happens so I think maybe it was a fluke.

Nope.

We leave LLBean and start to walk through the mall and suddenly - it hits me.

Hard.

Like, you better run because you might not make it, hard.

 Oh geez....

I book it to the nearest bathroom and run in.  The whole room already smells like death and I decide that it is a good thing - no one can blame it on me. The only stall open is the handicapped stall so I quickly shut the door and realize it won't lock....it won't even stay shut.

Great.

I wedge my purse strap in the door to hold it shut and do my business.

And do my business again.

And again.

And, yep, you guessed it - again.

At this point all I can think of is that scene from Dumb and Dumber...you know the one.  As I contemplate the similarities, I hear the flutter of annoyingly high pitched teenage girl voices speaking in French enter the room.

Oh God.

They start preening and gossiping in the mirror, while I sit dying five feet away with a paper thin wall separating us.  With giant cracks in the side of the door (why do they make them like that??).

They continue to babble away unintelligibly until I hear a phrase I can definitely decipher - "uugghh, blah blah blah....le pew!!"

That's right - they are saying that I stink....in French.

All of this wouldn't have been so terrible, after all, they had no idea what I even looked like....

And then my purse falls to the floor and the door slowly swings open.

Panicked, I try desperately to push it shut again with my foot....and I fall short by about two feet since the handicapped stall is the size of my garage.

Yep, here I am, a pathetic, disheveled, almost *cough30cough* year old woman... pooping my brains out....in front of all of you young, pretty, freaking French girls.

After I gather as much self respect as I can muster, I drag myself out into the mall again.

Only to run right back in.

And on our way home, (where I will spend the next three days discovering a new found respect for angry birds), I think to myself - hey, at least I didn't have the kids with me!

Yep, there is always that.   :)