We're back. We survived. Where left you left your superhero we were getting ready to take a trip. Scared of what was to come, not so much the visit itself on the other side of the transportation, but the journey itself to get to the visit ahead of us.
Long story short - the travel piece - went swimmingly (on the way there). It was perfection, sure there were some bumps, but the start of our trip? It was (overall) glorious.
Some interesting factoids and photographic proof of mayhem and/or above aforementioned glory?
- Traveling alone with all that is needed on the first leg of
the trip is
a pain in the assinteresting. We came into the airport like bats out of hell and may or may not have taken down the "VIP" ropes. Traveling with kids means traveling like a pack mule. I had one suitcase that should fit clothing for a year, a car seat, a piece O crap stroller (that I found out in-between two boarding lines doesn't actually fold with ease), a diaper bag and a back pack. Visual b: The rope that didn't see it coming. In related news? Yea, we're starting with b. Whoops.
- East coast trip = Dunkin' Donuts everywhere. Even at the
gate to go to the East Coast. I run on Dunkin'. Visual a, perfection: a D&D
at our gate. Oh heaven how I love you. You know what else runs?
- People. They suck. Specifically when you
walk toward them with a baby. The looks I got carrying that kid, you would
think I had a bomb strapped to my body. The looks, the sneers, the whispering. At
one point, I almost started to say to people "I know, I hope she isn't on
my flight either! Am'I riiight??"
- In getting on leg 1 of my trip (yes, I had to stop) the gate
attendant handed me my ticket as I boarded flight whispering in my ear, "The
seat next to you is empty." To which my only response could be, "God
bless you." Note to self, travel tip: When getting on a flight, be sure
to check your ticket for your seat assignment.
After blessing the airline agent, I settled into my seat, D16. 2 carry ons and wearing the baby. Afraid for my life and those around me. A man comes up to our aisle and I think to myself, DAMN I thought that broad said this seat was empty. He informs me, I am, in fact D16, in his seat. I look at my ticket... A16. I could have sworn it was D - but whatever. I move.
I cozy into A16, scared for my life, wondering what kind of hell the baby will put me through as soon as we take off because on all accounts home girl looks happy. I figure, it's the calm before the storm.
2 minutes later, a new man appears. He says, I am in his seat. I look up and check, I'm in A16. My seat, so says my ticket. I get it out, to prove this yahoo wrong and hope to sweet baby hay-Zues they didn't double book my seat. I look. I SEE A16 - and show him. At which point he shows me that A16 was the gate. My seat is D13. He's happy to go sit there, instead of having me move. I kindly (think) say, "Oh that's so nice! No (f'ing way) thank you!" That empty seat next to me was MINE and I wasn't going to give it up. Despite the two time shuffle.
- The baby? Was great. If she wasn't sleeping? She was smiling. Visual c.
- An extra seat? It's divine. Visual d.
- By the end of the flight I wanted want to go around to all those that gave me dirty looks & go all "Big mistake. HUGE." w/ Pretty Woman gusto. She was amazing.
- You know what was not amazing? The weirdo sitting next to us. He zipped himself up into his jacket. Um. Excuse me sir, but what the F?