The Downside of Firsts

Ed: Holy hell, I'm late posting this.

Nothing like another trip to the Northeast to remind me how much I hate living here. As always, traveling is beyond a hassle and ridiculously more stressful than I feel like in a dream world it needs to be. Yet, our reality is this.

Q: How annoying could it be?
A: Annoying.

Need proof?

Example 1:
It's been snowing, all the time. Of course the one weekend it's going to stop snowing here, there is a ridiculous storm named "Nemo" that we are trying to fly into. Our flight was canceled, so our plans for Friday - Saturday got canceled. That sucked. We tried to make the most of our (short) time. This is hard, when there isn't enough time. See vicious cycle.

Example 2:
The baby? Shock & surprise is not a fan of the flying.  On the way to New York she was 90% fine on the plane. The issue being that while 10% seems like a smaller percentage, that 10% was HARD. She wants to walk around, get around, not sit. Ever. And take a nap on the flight? HA. On the way home, it.was.horrid. The percentages switched and 90% of the time she was crying. It wasn't awesome.

One of the major issue with traveling, beyond traveling, is the disruption of the kids' schedule. Sleep is a commodity high in demand, low in supply. Naps are difficult to impossible. It takes a toll on them, it takes a toll on me. A day here or there is one thing, but these trips tend to be on the longer side and every day counts. JJ didn't sleep on the flight and we thought maybe that aggravation will have a pay off by her falling asleep on the 2 hour drive from the airport to our first stop. You know what sucks about being wrong? Being SO wrong. Like almost 2 hours of screaming and crying, wrong. Oh what's that? You've reached your final destination, only to get back into the car?

Q: Can it every be easy?
A: No.

Example 3:
Then this happened. Just when I think I can't possibly be more tired, frustrated, or hating traveling (it had only been 9 hours since we left our house at this point) this happens: my dearest of all husbands who is, by the way, in most circles the best of the very best suggests the following to me: our baby spend her night in a dog crate. 

Q: What's that? Are you reading this right?
A: Yes, you are.

Beyond traveling with two small children, taking time off work, figuring out what to do with the dog, packing up a life's worth of clothes but leaving enough room for all the generosity that awaits us, don't forget: diapers, wipes, cups, bottles, snacks, enough toys & distractions but not too many. Oh wait, forget what we are bringing. What are we going to? We don't have our bed - for our sake - and sometimes we don't have a place to put the baby. It's a constant question & issue. Sometimes hotels solve that, sometimes they don't. Sometimes we go places where a crib is available, but it's never the same. This particular night, we realize (late, because for whatever reason the aforementioned love my life didn't work it out as I specifically asked him to) we don't have a place to physically put the beast. She can't be in a bed without one of us. I figure, at this point, we'll split up. Take a kid each in the beds available.  His solution? He asks his sister if she still has a pack & play. She says, yes & no. They have one, but they use it for the puppy now that they don't need it (their youngest is 3 years old). My husband's solution? Take a look (actually, it was a smell) at the mattress of the pack and play and honestly ask the question: "Do you think it would be okay if we put JJ in the pack and play ..." he followed it with some kind of 'thinking outside the dog crate box' ideas like putting sofa pillows inside the now dog create. It's hard to say what happened after that because I had a break in reality and blacked out in rage. Needless to say, the baby didn't sleep in the dog pen.

Funny aside, in chatting about the 'incident' he followed it up with, "You were right." Like I didn't know that. Put my baby in a dog create. Humph.

Example 4:
When we do have the 'joy' of getting to sleep with our babies, specifically the littlest one. She sleeps on my head, like a cat. I hate cats.

Example 5:
'Fun' family quotes:

• Upon arriving late to Nana Lu's house because we stopped by a friend's house on the way, "What'd ya get lost?"
• In seeing JJ had a war wound on her face & L almost stubbed her toe off, "Is that why it took so long? You had to make sure both kids got hurt, before coming?"
• About my dislike for where we live, "I hate that you're miserable, but in the back of my head - it does make me feel better." 

We are both the children of families who have, by all accounts, always lived close to each other. At one time or another both of our parents do live or have lived within walking distance to their parents.  At most they are 1 1/2 - 2 hours away from their parents and children. We are a phenomenon.

You know the pride a parent probably feels when there is the "first to go to college" or the "first successful" kid in the family? We are the polar opposite. There has to be some pride that goes into having a son or daughter who are doing well within their career and have a happy & healthy family - but we are the "first plane ride away" kid. I don't know if that can be a source of happiness. Our babies will have parents who get it. We, however, do not.  We are our family's first. No one (including us) know how to work it out 100% effectively. We're still struggling to find the balance. The limited time we (and our babies) get to spend with their grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins takes away from the other. And don't even get me started on the fact that our babies have 4 great-grandmothers that they rarely (if ever) get to see. It's a gift they have, that we somehow can't seem to give them. Beyond the balance between our shared extended family, there are friends we miss and don't get to see. Friends, which by all accounts, are near impossible to find.

It's hard to be a trailblazer*, yo. 

*Alternative perhaps the darker side of descriptive words: the first, the only, alone.

Lessons from the Road

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?

1. Traveling alone with all that is needed on the first leg of the trip is a pain in the ass interesting. 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.
   
2. 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?
   
3. 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??"
   
4. 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.  True story.
   
   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.
   
5. The baby? Was great. If she wasn't sleeping? She was smiling. Visual c.
   
6. An extra seat? It's divine.  Visual d.
   
7. 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.
   
8. 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?

More stories from the road, soon. I took notes on barf bags from the plane. Class act right here. Let's hope I can make sense of the rest.

BE GONE: bad travel juju. Be. Gone.

I used to travel all the time for my job. Once a month or more. For the last two years, this has steadily become less and less a part of the job. And for this, I am grateful. There are lots of reasons for my gratitude, most prominent of them?

I suck at travel.

Travel sucks for me. 

Travel, can suck. It. 

It never works out. There is always some crazy ass story that if it didn't happen to me, I wouldn't believe it. Seriously. I have a whole tag on this here blog. And frankly? There is so much that goes unsaid. So much that I don't write about. It happens every time I travel, and most times I leave the house. It's a wonder I do.

What is all of this to say?

You can imagine my excitement, I'm traveling this week.

The good news? I'm grateful we can work something out to make what could be a bad situation a little less painful (literally and figuratively).  We are still at the point that JJ & I away from each other will not work. She's still nursing, and unlike it was with L, it works (well enough). They are different in so many ways, nursing is one in a never ending list of differences. Leaving for the weekend or more, is not an option. I'm grateful that we can make it work. JJ will come with me and we worked out childcare.  We went through all kinds of options, but it turned out the husband was able to take off from work.  He will be joining us with L the day after we arrive.  My brother is in the area, to help out before he gets there and we are set.

If by set you mean, I'm flying solo with JJ, who is a loose cannon.  We will likely be stuck in the bathroom row, in-between two extra large, angry, smelly people and my darling 4 year old and husband have already been bumped up to first class. Seriously, our seating arrangements are not confirmed - but the two in first class? Confirmed.

All set (my ass).

Another interesting fact? You know that long list of differences between my girls? You know the one I'm really not looking forward to testing? Travel.  The one thing I can say about all my travel BS? My kid was always dreamy. Dreamy in cars, trains, and planes. Seriously. L is a DREAM on flights. She's cute. She's funny. She's silent. A. DREAM.  You know what that means?

We are not all set, people. And if you are flying on Thursday morning and see me falling down the aisle with baby girl in tow? My apologies, pal. My. Apologies. 

The Travel Adventures of The Amazingly Weird Guarros

Filed under:
"Why didn't I think about that?"

This last week, we took this show on the road and went for a quick, focused trip to the STL.  Our new home to be can't be unless we have a home to be in. Yup. We left the kid with NanaLu & Uncle Ricky to attend family parties and work the crowd and off we went.  Ah the things we saw, the places we'd go. 

First on the sites scene checklist? Simply put: the best invention ever.  A hoody sweatshirt with a pocket for your hands & a beer. God bless America, and we hadn't even gotten to the birthplace of Bud Light yet - this was in our (current) home state of Connecticut. From the CT we were off to STL with a 'quick stop' in Chicago.  Oh but wait, I forgot - me traveling comes with it some complications.

Complication one: delayed flight. Complication two: a husband that may need to hit the bottle to fly... ah cold glass of beer how I miss thee. Complication three: suitcase busted.

With 30 minutes to spare we (I) thought fast and sent my inebriated calm husband to find a bag while I tried to repack his bag. Funny enough I did not over pack and he did so it probably wasn't going to end well.  Luckily he did find another bag to purchase and we were back in business.  The reaction of the airport staff was pretty shocking.  I thought it was reasonable to ask for help in getting rid of a suitcase, instead they looked at me like I was asking where the pool was cause I was thinking of a quick skinny dip.

Abandoned suitcase? NO problem

Me: "Hi! My suitcase broke, what should I do with it?"
Airport staff 1: "Huh?" Looks over at airport staff 2 confused.
Airport staff 2: "What's wrong?" (Clearly annoyed I'm asking a question. Can't I see they are busy standing there doing nothing?)

Me: "My suitcase zipper, it broke. I'm just wondering where I should put my suitcase now."
Airport staff 3: (snaps teeth) "Throw it out."Me: "I'm sorry, I just thought... shouldn't someone be alerted of a stray suitcase left out? Won't that be alarming?"
Airport staff 2: "Just throw it out." (snaps teeth)
Me: "Ok, I just figured - for security purposes someone should know?"
Airport staff 2: "Just throw it out, in the garbage."

You know "If You See Something, Say Something?"Apparently if you say something you just get your teeth snapped at you. I left my suitcase by the trashcan open so it was as clear as it could be that it wasn't an abandon weapon. It took hours to get there with a long and delayed layover in the windy city of Chicago, but once we arrived we were welcomed by awesomeness.  I was cranky.  All the traveling, all the baby to carry, no beverages or the beer persuasion to drink but then, then STL showed me a glimmer of their magic. Our rental car. Ladies & gentlemen, I give you the Cube.

We laughed all week. We were there from Thursday through Saturday and despite major some stress, ridiculous decisions and crazy expected curve balls.  We also had a laugh until your stomach aches and your face hurts pains.  Despite not getting what we thought we would from the trip, we had a great time. We missed our little girl and we're excited for our adventure ahead. I know, what DID happen for the 3 days that we were there. Stay tuned.

Emotional finale and possible pregnancy hormone induced mush: I'm not only excited for the STL but I'm excited for the whole thing - life ahead and all that. My husband, my baby's daddy, my boo boo whatever you want to call him - he's simply the best. Without him the kind of fun we had would not be possible. He heart's home work & Hello Kitty and I heart him.  End of story tee-hee-hee.

It Ain't Over Until I Sing

The following stories are true, unaltered accounts of excepts from my weekend.

Friday I went to Boston for a weekend long work event.  As with most of my trips, it's usually eventful, and not in a good way. This trip was no different. The plan was this, get to Boston, go to the office and get some things done in the morning and head over to the hotel for 12 pm.  I was joining a meeting at lunch and then continuing on with them.  I knew they were on a tight schedule so when I showed up close to 12:30, I'll be honest I was nervous.  I wanted to make sure I got my lunch on.  I walk in, do rounds of hello - and head to the buffet in the back.

As I go through the line, once I hit the end a friend, Frau, comes up to me and whispers, "I don't mean to be rude, but you are going to go outside with that? Right?" 

Me: "What? You guys are already moving onto the next part?"
Frau: "They didn't eat yet."
Me (as I was dying of mortification) "Stop IT! I have to be honest, it looks a little picked over."
Frau: "Well... now it does."

I leave, dying, and loose my appetite.  Watch out buffet tables, around the world, here comes Preggo.  I laughed, I (almost) cried, I got over it. 

Later on that evening, a cab driver must have heard I was feeling fat and wanted to drive the point home.  This happened. I have 2 witnesses. For real.

Cab driver (here by referred to as the D): "Sit in the front."
Me: "I'm fine." As I get in the back, it was going to be a tight squeeze but there were other people who could have sat in the front, taller people that probably made more sense.
the D: "Sit in the front!"
Me: "Seriously, it's fine." Realizing that we weren't trying to squish as many people as I originally thought we were.  I really didn't have to go up front, but did because he must have said it at least 3 more times.
the D: makes this pose to and towards me (just the arm flexing part - not so much the oiled down, tanning bed bod with the accented yellow tighties):

Me: "Are you saying I'm fat?" (mostly joking, though I KNOW I am no skinny Minnie)

the D: "NO! Husky."

Me: "Same thing."

the D: (not even a minute later, only a slight pause) "Do you exercise?"

Me: "ARE YOU SERIOUS? I'm pregnant." Yup. I threw the pregnancy card. 

the D: "Are you due next week?" 

Me: "Are you f'ing KIDDING ME?" (true quote, I didn't drop a full F bomb)

I think he tried to talk - I told him to stop talking and finally, he listened - or I just blacked out. I'm not small, by any means.  I don't look like I'm due next week. For real.  What is WRONG with people?  

There were a lot of people this weekend that had some one liners for me.  The worse part? Many didn't realize how rude they were being.   By in large (not a pun), it made for good laughs.  I was on point this weekend so that's a plus (for real, no pun intended).   Just another day, in my big girl world.

com·mit·ted : The Calm

And here you thought the story was over. No not so, silly rabbit, I just haven't posted the conclusion. If a post is never published did it never happen? Alas. That isn't the case. Play catch up, if you will.

 

Chapter 5: The Calm

In the morning we met and began to review the plan ahead of us. As much as we were discussing the new and delayed agenda doubt began to sneak in as the snow outside continued to come down and reports continued to come in of delayed or canceling attendance. The long (and chapter 5) and short of it is - we canceled the meeting. Every one's safety was of the utmost importance and to really get what we wanted out of the meeting we needed everyone there. There we were. There I was, 15 hours deep into commute, only a few hours of sleep to my name and all of that to be stranded in Neuvo Jersey.

I laughed. Uncontrollable, 5150 laughing. There it was again.

When you get handed a snowmageddon, you make snowmen. While the Boston crew high tailed it out of there - I may or may not have squealed "NOOO NO ONE IS LEAVING UNTIL I GET TO!" After I got over the loss of freedom I realized there was fun to be had. And had it I did.

But wait... there's more - like every experience like this has to have? A celebration of survival. Girls just want to have fun, style. And in the end? In the very end...

*disclaimer: when I say "best" I really mean ... it could be worse.

com·mit·ted : Through the Other Side

Chapter 4: Through the Other Side

3:00 pm: 3+ hours of sitting in wait, while stuffing my face, wrapped up in the fetal position, doing what work I can with the soothing sounds of the epic The Real Housewives of New York play in the background. I awaited for Don's call but to no avail. Who makes a girl wait? So I called him. Truth be told, I'm not 100% of exactly what he said but the jest of it was: the car won't be ready until tomorrow (Friday - yes people at this point - 4 chapters deep we are still in day one). And not only tomorrow, but the end of the day - no dice. Not an option. I have a meeting to attend.

On the road again...

GPS thanks be, says it's less than 2 hours away. At least it wasn't 2+ hours away....

7:00 pm: For those of us in the house where math isn't our friend... we're pushing 3 hours at this point. There is snow, rain, sleet, sunshine and then soon after - darkness. I used my GPS to get me to my final FINAL destination. Unfortunately and obviously only they way my luck can deliver, the address on the website was:

100 College Road East

Go ahead... put that address in google maps. Go ahead. See what happens. Go ahead.

That's right if you did it - you'll see... it'll bring you right to where I found myself after 7pm that fine night. In the back end of Princeton University. It's lovely this time of year.

100 College Road W

Not lovely? Trying to get out of there. That right there is a clear road block, right where my trusty GPS said I needed to go.
By the time I got to my final destination, while I was originally going to just go to bed how could I when drinks and food were awaiting me?

15 total times in route... and it was time to let loose. Including my hair which had been pinned up since 4am this morning.

(that is indeed my beer AND wine - car parked at hotel and ready to be taxied around!)

Final mishap? Because you know there is one... upon getting back to our hotel room we may or may not have needed to open a bottle of wine. That bottle... it may have given us a little more trouble than we bargained for - or frankly that I felt at that point I was really due at this point of the day.

OH. No that's not the end of the story... not quite yet.

com·mit·ted : The Eye of the Storm

Chapter 3: The Eye of the Storm

8:04 am: As I near the George W Bridge on the road to from New York to New Jersey, talking about how my drive is (not) moving along I begin to put put putter. While I am on the right side of the road, but not quite the shoulder and trying to explain it is going to take longer than I expected to get to the meeting - that time line immediately extended.

With a car stalled out 3.2 miles from GW bridge, blocking traffic breathing slowly after screaming "F a duck" or another favorite "Mother F'er" in the ear of my poor unsuspecting phone a friend. Her response? "Do you want me to look something up for you, on the Internet?" While I appreciated the thought and offer to help I had all that covered - what I needed now? A way out and off to Jerse.

I called AAA, however inconvenient, and awaiting help. As I waited, so close to the side of the road, yet so far - I was warmly received with honks, middle fingers and the love that only New York can show. Two guys pulled over and while I thought there was nothing they could do to help, how I was wrong. As usual. These two angels came over and helped me steer (backwards) down the slight incline I was on, onto the shoulder. Ah and finally the silence set in - no more cussing, fingers flying or honking as I await for the tow truck. Tow truck #1 that is.

Oh yeah, that's right because of the road I was on, AAA couldn't send a truck. What they could do is let a company who could pick me, pick me up - tow truck #1 and when I get towed off the exit, call again and get into tow truck #2. Honestly. While I waited for the first pick up, C found a place to bring my car. If any luck my piece O junk could be fixed at my final destination where the guy there has a level 3 English. Sure we didn't know what he said, mostly, but the hope was you didn't need to speak English well to fix a dang car. He told C he would 'call me' (we think) and he never did. At this point, I'm thinking there was a misunderstanding, miscommunication perhaps I didn't give him enough time. I'm hopeful his optimism will be contagious and not his business etiquette of returning phone calls.

9:40 am: Tow truck #1 dropped me off in the BoogieDown Bronx, with a special little surprise. He decided to "shake" my car before dropping it. Apparently, that did the trick and before demanding a tip, the tow truck driver #1 informed me that the car started. Of course it did, and unfortunately this has happened before.

I called AAA again, as instructed and was told to "Sit tight" (where would I go) and the next tow truck would be by to get me on or before 11 am (I repeat, it's 9:40 am at this point). He dropped me off, right in front of a D&D. Where my morning really began, but was so not soon to end. At this point in my journey, despite my recent pit stop, I got worried. I needed to use the ladies room, but didn't want to leave my car on the side of the road in the BoogieDown. And then it hit me, oh yeah - it's broken down. Where would anyone take it? Event though the car started, I could tell there wasn't a whole lot of power left in her, and so what if it got stolen?

10:40 am Tow truck #2 arrives, and oh boy was that fun. First the truck itself stalled as he was loading up my stalled car. While I sat on the side of the road awaiting the next leg of my journey I just laughed. I laughed so hard I'm fairly certain the driver was going to call the police reporting a 5150. Despite that scare, he really wanted to push the envelope.

Tow truck driver: "Your car is pretty strapped in there."
Me: "I hope so."
Him: "We don't want to get there with out the car."
Me: "No. No we don't. But frankly I wouldn't be surprised."

It's at this point he proceeds to tell a story about how once he got to his destination with out the car he was towing.

This is not a drill. I am not making this up.

We arrived to the car's final destination (not mine) and while I couldn't figure it what in the hell the guy was telling me - what I could figure out is my mom would pick me up at the wine store a few doors down. He said he would call me. I started walking to go get some vino, up a hill - and slipped down it of course because that's how I roll and who would really be surprised?

12:01 pm: Arrive at Nana Lu's. It's at this point I am in the eye of the storm. Through the madness and at a calming - the thing with the eye of the storm? It's just the beginning of the end and there is more to come.

com·mit·ted : Storm Clouds

Chapter 2: Storm Clouds

Where last we left our superhero, she was driving into the darkness towards the great state of Neuvo Jersey. The time line to follow brings up through the darkness into the morning and the storm ahead.

4:30 am - I want to get going, but since I should look half way presentable I should do my hair. Unfortunately with the commute (2+ hours according to GPS, mapquest, google maps... you know, reliable sources) I have ahead... drying and straightening isn't in the cards. Instead, I decide to curl it out. I put some lovely scrunching moose up in there and scrunch all my newly cut hair - clipping them up in hopes when I get to my final destination I can have the kind of waves that most can only dream of. Ah the simplicity of how I thought my day would be.

4:45 am - I stop for coffee & gas on my way out. D&D doesn't open until 5am. While I await for my delicious and life affirming ice coffee to be made I remember a to do line item that did not get completed the day before. I had let my AAA membership lapse. I have needed it before, and just in case - what can it hurt? I used the time wisely and god bless my phone - put it to good use. AAA Membership, check. By the time I get my coffee, gas up the car and fill out the membership form & pay for it - I'm back on the road at 5:20. I take a screenshot of my phone for safety sake. Oh safety sake.
6:20 am - I ask for some feet on the street, a friend in Neuvo Jersey has stepped forward and will be my weather girl in the area.

6:40 am - Despite my best efforts to get to Jerz before the snow starts, the snow starts at 6:40am and I am still in New York.

7:00 am - I stop to get gas, more coffee and possibly get rid of some of the poisonous pessimistic feelings I had inside. I wrote the following email. All the truth, all things told... I thought traffic was as bad I was going to see it.

I believe I'm screwed.
I believe I've been driving for 2+ hrs.
I believe every time reset my GPS the travel time is 2+ hrs.
I believe when I started my journey it said 2+ hrs.
I believe I have Barb giving weather updates.
I believe that I will never get there.

8:02 am - As I make my way towards the armpit of America I take a call from Nat, someone who understands at the heart of it all what it is like to have a black cloud hovering around you when you set out to take a simple trip. Just the other day I poked fun at her own travel karma to which I attribute the following hours of my trip. As I poke fun, the storm clouds align and ahead of me the storm awaits.

Nat:Why oh why must my friend send me the weather report for Friday when I'm supposed to be flying into the eye of a Nor'easter? oh well, sounds like i might have something to blog about at the end of this week...

February 23 at 6:31pm · Comments

Christine: at least your in the air!!! I'll be on the ground driving through it. February 23 at 6:53pm

me: Oh Christine, you think she'll be in the air?! Obviously I'll have to catch you up on Nat's travel 'luck.' ;) February 23 at 9:16pm

Dava: That is quite the story! Nat may be on the ground at Logan for the weekend. Pack snacks, Nat!!! February 23 at 9:20pm

Nat:you people are so mean! February 24 at 3:50pm

Note to self: what is mean is karma. She's a bitch and a cold hearted snake. She kicked ass and took mine, namely mine.

com·mit·ted : Before the Storm

Main Entry: com·mit·ment
Pronunciation: \kə-ˈmit-mənt\

Function: noun

1 an act of committing to a charge or trust: as (1) : a consignment to a penal or mental institution (2) : an act of referring a matter to a legislative committee 2 a : an agreement or pledge to do something in the future; especially : an engagement to assume a financial obligation at a future date b : something pledged c : the state or an instance of being obligated or emotionally impelled

If I didn't prove my commitment this week I don't know what else I can do. As all my travel-aster
stories go - just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, it does and where to begin? I think I'll be giving this story installments.

Prologue

I travel for work, a lot. It doesn't seem like that much, until I am in the eye of the storm (ironic foreshadowing) and realize how often I am in the process of going away, execution or coming home. And since I can not travel with out incident, the issue is compounded. Each winter we have meetings through out the country that are focused on a particular theme or subject that are a mandatory requirement. Sometimes, depending on the role I am in or region I am working with or set up of the meetings I can be required to attend 1 or 6 of the meetings. This year I needed to attend 2 out of 5 of the meetings. This weekend in New Jersey and next week in New Hampshire. This is a true story, true story, where one girl stops being reasonable and starts to go batty.

Chapter 1: Before the Storm

The plan was to leave at my usual departure time of o'dark thirty on Thursday to be able to meet in lovely Dirty Jerz at 10 am. On Wednesday due to the pending snowmageddon, flights were canceled out of Boston and while I wasn't flying I did need to make sure I got to the Jerz before the storm hit. Thus O dark thirty, the sequel. The crew who were set to fly decided to take matters into their own hands and jump into vans and rode into the sunset or eye of the storm like cowboys to make sure they would arrive pre-storm and get ready for the big meeting. As they were arriving I was getting up ready to make my voyage.

Ok snow hurricane. Let's do this dance. Thu at 5:04am via Facebook for iPhone

Last Christmas in New York: 2009

Last year we were a delinquent family. Between C's travel schedule & my work schedule we barely remembered Christmas was upon us. Between all that and technical difficulties when I was camera less for the blessed holidays - no pictures. No holiday cards, promises of Happy MLK Day Cards - with no follow through. We suffered through another holiday season away from home, vowing to never do it again.

And then we did. This year we did get out the holiday card - alas lots of confusion attached since apparently Abelle is a stranger to most. I got many a text, email, phone call or face to face question - "I loved the card, but who is Anabelle?" OR "Congratulations! When did you have another girl?"

It's not that I don't love family time - the loud lulls of screeching. The awkward jokes, the mayhem of crowds. I love all that. Of course, and of course, the undercut or straight out knock outs of insults from the dear elderly. Who wouldn't love all that? That isn't it - it's not the inability to keep L on a regular schedule or who would want to miss out on the constant parenting tips? Not I. The hours in the car, the hours thinking about the hours in the car, the hours it takes to pack, unpack, repack, unpack, pack up, unpack and repack then unpack again. The days of laundry to follow - oh and dog hair for as far as you can see.

Of course I do love the time L gets to spend with her family - getting to know everyone and make new memories. That we do love. The way she lights up when she seems familiar faces and those that she is just starting to remember. We love all that. There does, however, come a time where a family has to make their own traditions and own memories that don't include hours of unnecessary travel to pacify the masses. There comes a time where we need to pacify ourselves. We'll miss the crowds during the holidays, we will miss managed chaos - but with all of the missing I know we'll welcome the chance to make our own traditions. You are all invited. Our house, holidays 2010. Family, friends and strangers - you are more than welcome. I want her to know a holiday in her own home - one that is random, full of laughs, and full of sitting in our pjs, drinking coffee while watching her figure out how the heck that guy got down the fireplace to drop off all her goodies.

More of this:

Less of this:

Travel Hex

Picture it. 9 am Sunday morning. A glorious day and just one errand before I get geared up to travel for just about a week to New Orleans for work. The last time I had a roommate for work ... I had 2 people who hated me for 3 days straight because it turned out that since I had last been their roommate I have taken on a new hobby of snoring.

"If that is what you call that noise that you were making... sounded like a lawn mower running over my head."

In preparation for another roommate I went to Target to purchase some supplies... nose strips to ease the noise and sleeping pills to hopefully knock out anyone in earshot of my lawn mower. I got carded, at Target, to purchase the pills. Who knew?

Who knew that this would be a saving grace.

No ID. No license. But "no worries" I had almost 4 hours to find it... it must be somewhere.

It was nowhere.

I called my manager to give her the "good news" and she said, "you can get on with your passport." Like I could find my valid one? I joked and asked if my expired passport would work, from when I was 10. No dice.

Then she suggested my birth certificate... which I last remember being with my valid passport.

I called the airline to get the next flight out (there were none that day) and told the operator my story. She told me it turns out I don't need my picture identification. A credit card and social security card "should" do the trick. With 14 minutes to go - I took a shower (necessary) and packed everything I own that was clean in 2 bags. Hindsight would tell me I should have packed in ONE bag or put 1/2 work clothes in 1 of the carry ons and 1/2 in the other I would check. Ahhh.... hindsight.

I rush to the airport and go through security. After presenting said credit card & social security card the TSA Agent wants to see everything else that has my name. Ask you and you shall receive! I present my library card, AAA membership (expired), insurance cards... then my expired passport, my social security card with my maiden name AND my picture ID for work. In addition to all of this he needs to see more to see the connection between my last name and maiden name. The piece da la resistance? A copy of a receipt from my ATM showing a check made out to my maiden name cashed into my account with my married name. Success!

Do you feel safe? I got on a plane with this beaut.

But it was time to celebrate!!!!

On the flight and off I went! Even posting on FB success....

ME: Wheels up- bradley. Dulles here I come!!! (have mercy on me it's been a long day already) October 4 at 2:29pm via Facebook for iPhone ·

ME: Hahahahahhahahahahahah. Just got delayed will likely miss my connection flight. Haha? Let's laugh. October 4 at 2:44pm

It went on from there. I was finally able to learn from a United flight attendant who frankly didn't speak English all that well that I would arrive 20 minutes before my connection flight and all she could do is let people know that there are people who are connecting and to stay seated - but I would likely not get out on time. See, I was the very last seat of the plane ... hindsight, there you go again. I was asked if I wanted to bump up for $19 and I thought that was "silly for such a short flight time."

Haha. Silly.

What was silly was me pushing my fat ass out of that flight, down to the shuttle and waiting over 5 minutes for the damn shuttle to go. THEN running my (again) fat ass down concord only to get to my gate and find that "they left" ... oh but the magic of technology would tell me that isn't so. See, I was texting with someone in the flight who was giving me the play by play. I got to my gate BEFORE flight take off time (but after boarding time, to be fair) and BEFORE they shut the door of the cabin but the bastards at the gate told me otherwise. Ahh... how they didn't know I had the power of technology behind me and was texting with a passenger in the plane who was able to confirm they hadn't shut the door yet or geared up to take off.

Fun. I was delayed and didn't leave the airport until 7:30 pm and was made to pay for my own hotel. Shame on United, their horrible customer service and even worse options to make right the situation.

Gah. They lost my luggage even though I was told 3 x in person that my luggage was IN New Orleans and again 2 x when I called in and spoke with a United representative only to find out once in New Orleans that my bag was on it's way... from Dulles. Because according to that person, my bag was pulled. Oh, they had time to pull my bag, but not let me on the flight?

You know, never once, did anyone really even apologize.

I don't know why I even bother.

Next Stop - The Clink

Two weeks ago L & I made our way to NY to join C in a rendezvous to celebrate the wedding of one of our very best friends. The very friend that brought us together - KW, Weiler, Kiki - whatever you call her home girl got hitched. Being in the wedding there were several responsibilities I needed to keep in mind: make it to the church on time (and early) and make sure I remember my dress & shoes. C was in Neuvo Jeresy working and rather than have 2 cars to drive home after Lillipalooza in the 'Burgh I thought it'd be a super idea to hike it to Penn Station, again. Do I ever learn?

In estimating the time I needed to leave I was off - as I set out to catch the 4:25 pm train I realize the first misstep. I leave the house late - while I thought I have an hour, I'm not taking into consideration the time it takes to get to the first train station, wait time and time to get to the next station. If I don't hustle to the train station I run the risk of missing the train. I have the baby, in a stroller, with a diaper bag, a rolling suitcase (a suitor so I didn't mess my dress - so it isn't tiny) & another / extra bag with all the crap that wouldn't fit in the other bags / bottom of the stroller. OH and my lap top, cause apparently I needed to check email? I have an Internet obsession & addiction. Don't judge. Do you have a visual?

It's fall but about 100 degrees out - and as I push the stroller and balance bags hanging off it and pull the suitcase - I realize if I get to the (first) train station and a train isn't there when I need it I could totally see myself rushing to wait and then missing my ride to NYC.

It's a 10 minute walk to the first train station, which will take me one stop to the final destination to pick up Amtrak. It turns out the entire walk is on some kind of incline each street, each turn a hill. I had never noticed it until this struggle to the train station. I push up hills in 100 degrees, sweating in a way where I have drops of sweat literally blurring my sight. The sun is glaring, I am sweating and can't see. I also forgot my sunglasses but there was no way once I got down the 3 flights of steps with the baby, stroller, a diaper bag, a rolling suitcase & an extra bag I was going back up for stupid glasses. I start to realize that it's becoming increasingly difficult to push and it isn't about the massive weight, the hill, the sweat or the sunglasses. It's a freaking flat on my beloved. That's right my stroller whose very tires that cruise threw snow and corner like it's on rails in the sand at the beach was being weighed down due to the amount of luggage we had and air that we didn't. To compensate for the lowering tires, I had to push way right to stay straight.... in the heat, with no glasses and tons o'crap. Oh and did I mention I was strategically keeping L awake so she would sleep on the train - in the heat, with the flat tire, no sunglasses, tons o'crap and shaking the child to keep her awake - up a hill but having to push (with one arm while pulling the suitor with the other) way to right to stay straight.

Fast forward: I get to the first train station, then to the connection. Get my Amtrak ticket and only have to pinch baby girl once to keep her awake. When the train finally arrives all the people waiting on the platform standstill - and I of course wasn't prepared - I had L out of the stroller. By the time I get her in the stroller and make sure I have my ticket, baby, stroller, a diaper bag, a rolling suitcase & an extra bag- I heard encountered my worst fear.

"Doors closing."

Yet I remain on the platform. I quickly ask the people standing in front if they are getting on, they barely answer, "No." I do what every mother bridesmaid would do. I push the stroller with full force into the closing train doors - except there is a gap between the door & the platform and due to the weight of the stroller at this point the front wheels (which are not flat) get stuck and lodged in between the door & the platform. Nobody moves, no one helps.

I claw my way into the stupid train and every handicap seat is taken so me and the kid are stuck in the bathroom car. I need the handicap seat so I can push the stroller up - and none of the seats were taken by actual handicap people. I'm livid and call C immediately - f'ing commuters, f'ing Amtrak, f'ing no where to gawddang sit. I f'ing hate traveling so on and so forth - lots of F bombs lots of manic madness. There is screaming. There is yelling. There is a lot of noise.

There is also a police officer in full uniform that comes out of the bathroom and advises me, "Ma'am I'm going to need you to calm down and find a seat." I explain the situation with the stroller and apologize for my mouth, language & passion against commuters. He tells me I have to sit down and can wait for the conductor to get to me, however I can't stand here. I take my seat, in the bathroom to kill time while the conductor gets to me.

The rest of the story is boring - the conductor comes - he tells me to "follow me!" and proceeds to take my suitor and literally race down the aisle of the train cars - and if you don't remember from last time the aisles of Amtrak trains are not bugaboo friendly so there were many causalities along the way including many a foot and random person's knee cap. He gave me his seat which was one with room for the child and all my her crap and a bottle of water - which was a nice touch. No more train. Not for this girl. Not going to happen, not again.

Aruba Bahama Come on Smoking Mama

At the end of the day - vacation was fantastic. We didn't want it to end and we loved every minute of it. The water was great - both the pool and ocean. The weather couldn't be beat and the drinks were mighty nice.

That being said there are things every person traveling to Aruba should know:

1. Whenever traveling with a child expect everyone to ask you the same questions over and over again - traveling tip: bring speaking points to hand out to avoid aggravation
• L
• She's a girl.
  
• 7 months, almost 8.
• Yes, thank you (to oh isn't she is cute)
• Yes, thank you (to you are blessed or lucky)
• Oh well thank you (to she sure does smile a lot or you have such a happy baby)
• Yes we put sunscreen on.
  
• We know that we need to put sun screen on.
  
• She's a girl (even when wearing pink, to some we had to say it several times).
• Yup. Sunscreen on, thank you. Yup- burning, Aruban sun. Got it. Kid is screened up - she's so screened up she is slippery. Sunscreen Hitler over here is lubing her up every 50 min since she is wearing SPF 50 - and she spends her time under hats and umbrellas. We got it. Sun is strong. Yup- we put sunscreen on.
• Why don't YOU put some damn sunscreen on, you're looking a bit leathery lady.
  
2. The state of NJ is currently in Aruba - the economy of the state must be declining. If not from NJ we're looking at MA (of the Revere persuasion), or NY. A sprinkle of toothless Euros to spice it up.
3. Be ready to defend - even if sported by a 7 month old, there are still hecklers. Yankees fans are ridiculous.
4. Aruba is called "The Happy Island" it's island's motto might also be "Smoke 'em if you got 'em." Literally every meal, everyday, every where you turned it was another reason that the truth squad should come to the sandy beach with their bullhorns and f'd up truth about smoking.
   
5. All inclusive is a fantastic invention, must like flying first class vacationing should include nothing less.
6. A strong 2nd place for a moto for the island might be "The Island of Balls." This is due to the ballsy bathing suit choices for men and woman, interesting drinking and over drinking displays, courageous couplings, and outfit selections were at an all time eyebrow raising alerts. At certain points throughout the day we would call out an alert to bring attention to OR warn against viewing. You don't need to know what these mean to know they weren't good... these alerts included but are not limited to:
   
• Nuts before Noon
• Whip 'em out Wednesday
• Tata Tuesday
• Taint Tuesday
  
• Coogs on the prowl
7. If you to Aruba be on the look out for the following characters we were able to come across in our travels (the hotel)
• One Eyed Willy
• Left eye slowly goes limp throughout the day as the bar gets hit harder.
  
• Booze Bag Sally
• OEW's son's (or friend - unsure of relation) wife/girlfriend who was told by all that could hear "If you leave me or cheat on me I will kill you." in the finest Reveah accent.
  
• The Cougar (aka the Coog)
• 50+ woman who gets drunk day or night, gropes "the help" calls people "the help", asks men (specifically in our example Nick the Man) what room they are in in hopes of getting an invite and announces things like "I'm over 50 and I just learned how to use chop sticks! Nick is the MAN!" OR "I'm over 50 and I just got a wax for the first time- Hello Brazil!"
• Nick the Man
• Lone traveler object of coogers affection and has a white maple leaf on his back - not a tattoo more like sunblock was applied in the shape of a maple leaf. Oh Canada.
  
• Kevin Busey & the Mrs (or the Busey’s)
• Looks like a Kevin but has a strong Gary Busey persuasion.
  
• Dragon Lady
• Angry Asian lady who does not like children in her restaurant. Syinara.
  
• Princess Leia
• Daughter of the Coog. Spends her days and nights carrying her little mother and doing her hair sans
  
• Arie
• White man with a rasta beanie hat on. In the sun, all the time.
  
• Italia
• Banana hammock central, the words Italia carefully illustrated over his little boot.
  
• The Groupies
• Large group of women traveling together with 1 ambiguously gay son. Hair always done (women not the son), visors on, make up check, no sunscreen since 1937. One explains her feelings through country music - not sung but spoken, the entire lyrics of the song.
• #1 Fan (aka surrogate granddaddy)
• Has 5 grand kids under 4 years old (yup), one daughter- started having kids at 40. He overshares and tells you all about her, them, and how cute L is. All the time. To the point of creepy. And waves his little hand wiggling the fingers screeching "Hey L! Hello! Hey hey hey!"
  
8. Take lots of pictures

The Only Way to Travel

From 5/9/08... in flight from Boston - Miami (seventh circle of hell):
As I type I am quite possibly the happiest girl in the entire world. I type with my fabulous new computer (stay tuned) propped (yes propped) on top of my gorgeous little girl as she sleeps through the final hour of our first leg of our trip.


Some things to note of our first leg of the trip:

• First class is clearly the only way to travel. Coach is for suckers.
• Drinking & flying = a happy Christoph and for this I am happy.
• Cute baby does not equal welcoming faces - but due to the free booze and extra leg room I couldn't care less. Eat it snobbies - that's what I said (under my breath)
  

In said Seventh Circle of Hell:
Oh how the tide turns so quickly. Upon landing from said best leg ever I witnessed some AA idiot kicking the strollers up the stairs- luckily mine came up ‘unharmed’ or so I thought. It wasn’t until we were ¾ of the way to our next gate that I realized that our cup holder had been taken prematurely. My trip has gone from great to horrific as I think about trekking through the heat with no ability to rest my water bottle, baby bottle or more importantly bottle of beer. C went back to reclaim our luxury. He claims he tried to get ‘the woman’ to go down and get the stupid cup holder, but aggressive is not something I would call my dear partner i life. He said, he used ‘sass’. Direct quote, ‘sass.’ I ask you if any amount of sass would make a difference.

I asked if he made her cry – he did not and my reply was, ‘Not good enough. You didn’t try hard enough. I should have gone myself.’ Vacation, good feeling skip we’re so happy comes to a screeching halt – vacation distressing takes 4 steps back the second those bastards lost my cup holder. Vacation stealers. And what the hell is going on in Miami? Did it float off of the United States and become a new country. Does no one speak English? At the very least enunciate their broken English? The entirety of airport staff here sound like they have marbles in their mouth. If you aren’t going to speak the language (of the country you speak in) if you could pronounce the words you are speaking in your own language while I wouldn’t understand you any better- at least it wouldn’t sound like nails on a chalk board and agitate me even more.

Back in the safe and warm comfort of First Class – Seventh Circle of Hell direct to Paradise:
It may have been the cup holder or the 40 minutes with out cocktails, warm nuts or hot towels – because as soon as we (I) sat down in my big roomy first class seat the cup holder was a distant memory. There is no other way to travel – and sadly with the baby at the very least, we can never travel in the cheapseats again.

• In first class they bring you drink after drink – the flight time flies by when you are celebrating happy hour. Everyone is happy – it’s happy hour.
• There is so much legroom the kid had her own little play area – all be it on the floor. She loved it.
• Easy on and easy off your flights (when you don't have to wait for your busted stroller.

All in all the trip to Aruba was fantastic - the long wait for our massive luggage could have been better- as we sat and thought the baby's car seat was gone and lost forever we realized first class couldn't guarantee complete happiness. Everything arrived, nothing else broken. Just my heart when I tried to lodge a compliant about the stroller- which is what C's sass got him, advice to put in a report when we got here. Guess what? Strollers are unable to be claimed. Of course. We almost died on the cab ride from the airport and arrived into a seedy weird casino - but that's a story for another time.

More on our vacation later.... while I have an Internet connection and writing fun for me -it's not fun for the ball and chain - and lord knows I don't want him to get sassy with me.

Those People

Yesterday we were those people. And here I thought at a loud restaurant we wouldn't be met with stank eyes... oh how wrong could I be? But it doesn't start there.

C always says our life is like a game of cannonball run... and frankly I don't know for sure what that means so I googled it. Turns out it's a speed racer movie with the fabulous Burt Reynolds... I like the way C explained it better. It's kind of like one of those games where the marble races down the maze at high speeds ducking holes in the ground- we're always racing around is the moral of the story. Earlier in the day we went to go get our passports... sure we've had since December and we need them by 3 weeks from Friday. And it's possible that we won't get the dang passport in time - but that's how we roll. We went and had 1 hour to complete this already delinquent task. We show up, pictures for the babe, me (I have to change my name on the stupid thing), the paperwork we are ready to go.

Glitch.

No baby - apparently she has to show up in person. Race out, get baby, come back... get guilt trip in an accent only a Charlestown Townie can provide about the fact that we are really waiting until the last minute. (For out of towners - Charlestown Townie accent sounds a lot like the first few scenes of "Gone Baby Gone.")

Later on that afternoon / early evening C & I decided to go out to dinner. Ooh wee... lesson learned never mess with the child's schedule. We decided to go out to dinner - she started screaming oh right around 7:30 pm - 30 minutes past the time of her regular feeding time.... squirming worming and screeching. Yup, those people. We decided to get her food out as soon as we sat, knowing that if she eats her rice & carrots she'll be happy as a clam and we can sit and eat our mussles in peace (we were at Legal Seasfood). As we take out what I packed...

• spoon. Check.
  
• bib. Check.
  
• food.... where is the food?

I forgot to pack the food. In true Guarro fashion we are now on high alert. No food? How could I have forgotten the food? Because that is how I roll. C couldn't be happier because if it were him who forgot the food this night would have turned out a bit differently. He's always happy when it's me, not him.

Cannonball Run in full effect - what to do? We thought fast and decided today would be the day that the little girl tries potatoes - she's loved carrots, sweet potatoes and butternut squash - why not white potato? We ordered it 'stat' and got it almost immediately - C went to work with the mashing, adding formula to the mix to get the consistency right. Watching him get the mix right is hilarious - he's working the potato, mixing in the formula, it has to be perfect - in true Christa Stewart fashion. No matter how hard he worked it, by the time it came to food time she was too jazzed up to deal. What can you do?

At the end of the night, we ate our dinner - took turns rocking her in her stroller and even had a couple of beers - it was an adventure and lesson learned to not mess with her schedule.

Walking into a post office to get a passport with out a baby gets you guilt trips and the look of stupidity... walking into a restaurant with a baby is like walking in waving a gun. Either way we are and always will be 'those people.'

AA- 2 JG-0

Made it to stupid Santa Fe with out incident, if you call a 5 hour lay over in Denver with out incident. I guess I shouldn't complain because unlike many a friend I have... I didn't have to go to Target for an emergency panty run cause the stupid airlines lost my bags (twice). On the way back I was convinced I had yet another sabbatical in another city, Chi-town to be exact. I decided to pass on a quick lunch in favor of being able to sit down. It took at least an extra 10 minutes to get off the plan since I was seated in the lavatory. I took a quick look at my next boarding pass and nothing clicked. Nothing clicked when I asked what time it was.

5:15 pm

5:15 pm...

I said out loud, could my flight be in 15 minutes? Why yes it could... I was immediately ordered to RUN! And off I ran - until my trunk of legs couldn't run no more. I was tailing a colleague of mine but eventually I told her to save herself and go.

As I ran terminals through the traffic of Chi-town I couldn't help but think two things.

1) I hate American. Something serious. These bastards have to f'ing kidding me thinking that this connection is legit. Bull.
2) Mama needs to go on a diet, my trunks started burning I thought my calves were going to bust out of my jeans. I couldn't help but feel like I was on a the Biggest Loser and chances are my name was going to be under that platter was good.

I eventually got to the plane, with no time to spare. No time, no lunch - turned into no dinner. I had a book, which I finished and ready Sky Mall. Twice.

The flight gets there on time and we are of course made to wait because we 'took them by surprise.' How is that? Don' t you have to call it in when you land a plane? I practically run people over to get home, I miss that babe of mine. The entire weekend I was weepy and missing her. In the airports there were babies EVERYWHERE. Every other person was pushing, lifting, carrying or hugging on a baby. At one point I figured if I needed to grab one for a quick cuddle no one would be the wiser. I'm pretty sure an orange alert went out about me. Every kid that passed by I stared down. Is it a boy or girl? What is his name? How much does she weigh? Is he eating solids? What kind? Look at that hair! What a cute stroller! How old do you think she is? Babies would cry and I would wince - I missed the kid something serious.

I came home, rush up the stairs excited because it's 9:30 and she is usually still up... out of breath (see prior reference for the need to shed lbs) and anxious to see my offspring and I hear silence.

She's sleeping.
KO'd and out for the count.

I hate traveling.