Thursday, April 3, 2014

Come Fly With Me.

Dear Diary, 



      Flying with kids is a full-blown, patience-testing ordeal aside from anything else I've ever done with them. Because of the ages of my kids, we must lug around two very heavy, awkward, bulky car seats to strap them into while we drive around our final destination. Thankfully, my husband is a burly man who has no problem jimmy rigging his suitcase by putting his arms through each handle, wearing it like a backpack. Simultaneously, he has a car seat on each arm. My two little minions each have their own rolling suit cases, which is always a recipe for "ooh's", "aw's" and smiles (thankfully). Since the car seats are not carry on items, we have to check them in. And wouldn't you know it, the line was stretched from Arizona to Idaho and just the sight of it made my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. 




     Surprisingly, the line moved quickly. As we hit each switchback (yes, I just compared waiting in line at the airport to hiking a mountain or waiting for a Disneyland ride), my son would look up at me with a face full of panic, hand on his crotch in a pinching manner and loudly proclaim, "Mom! I have to go poooottttyyy!" Mind you, I asked him right when we walked into the airport if he needed to go. The answer was a resounding NO. Go figure. This little guy needs to work on his lies. 

     
     While he was desperately trying to pinch his wiener through his denim, my daughter came up to me with her suitcase and said, "It's too heavy!" My husband now has his body covered in car seats and luggage, my son is whining that he has to pee "like, yesterday", and now I'm stuck with double bags and a line full of people. All I could do was laugh. 

     We finally made it to the counter and the printer broke as the airline employee was in the process of printing our boarding passes. Eventually, it worked itself out and we were on our way to the gate. 

     The flight was set to leave at 6:40 PM. The ticket-checker asked people to line up, only to tell them to sit back down ten minutes later because the plane at our gate was indeed not the plane we were going to take. That particular plane needed to head to another gate. Our flight crew was still in the air and it would be at least another 30 minutes until their arrival. Well, an hour and a half later, we finally boarded. Seat belts on and cleared for take off, we thought we were finally free of waiting. Our plane began to smell like smoke and as inappropriate as it was, I sang a rendition of Alicia Key's Girl on Fire by singing, "This plane is on fie-yerrrrr". Another half hour later, we were cleared a second time for take off. Two and a half hours later, we tried to land at the airport of our final destination and the fog was too thick for the pilot to see anything. He pulled back on the throttle and up we went, yet again. We circled around, hit some turbulence and landed a vicious landing at 1 o'clock AM. My kids were awake the entire flight. It was a flight to remember, and I honestly thought we might die, but we made it. It also might be the last time I take a late night flight with two young kids. Thank heavens for jelly beans and strange people. They kept my kids entertained. 

Sincerely, 

Me. 

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Entering a New Era.

Dear Diary, 


I am beginning to think there is a shift happening around this joint. My newly turned 2  & 4 year olds have been acting peculiar. For one, they are finally starting to get along. (Can I get a hallelujah!?) And for two, there have been odd songs and sightings going on. 

Last week, I attended a party at a friend's house. This party had quite a few kids in attendance. The kids happily played in my friend's backyard, where many Roly Polies abounded. Somehow, my 4 year old got a hold of a paper cup, filled it with soil, a tuft of grass (sorry for the bald spot on your lawn, Susan) and about 10 roly-polies. It sat on our kitchen countertop for a day or two while I tried to convince my little man to set them free in our grass. He would have none of it. 

That evening, I was scrubbing away at a dish, when all of the sudden I see this Roly Poly (a.k.a. "Skiddy Bug" as my 2 year old calls them) cruising across the edge of my sink. Puzzled, I had my eyeballs trace his route backwards and found that the cup had been knocked over and there were some escapees. Simultaneously, from over the countertop, I heard my son singing "Old Mac Donald had a poop, E-I-E-I-O" and giggling while my daughter laughed along with him. I have only heard stories of the Bugs & Poop stage. I believe I have arrived

I peeked inside that cup a day later and found a few of them were dead, so I took matters into my own hands and set them free at the disapproval of my son. Rest in peace, Skiddy Bugs. I am sure you were only the first of many more to come. 

Sincerely, 

Me.