I am home again.
EIGHT flights later, I am home again.
Have I ever mentioned that I am not a big fan of air travel? I'm not. It makes me batty and slightly claustrophobic. And the thought of re-breathing other people's air is not such a selling point for me, either. You know those little baggies they give you in your seat pocket? I'VE USED THOSE BEFORE. MANY TIMES. (details omitted... your welcome very much.) I knew that all the flying was going to be the hardest part of this whole trip for me, and I was quite correct.
When we arrived at the airport to leave for our trip, we quickly realized that we'd forgotten Ezra's umbrella stroller. This meant that we had nothing tangible to strap him to, so he took it as an opportunity to run back and forth like a madman while Chris and I were attempting to check our 6 monster bags and get our boarding passes. The airport was JAM PACKED for the holidays and everyone was grumpy-wumpy. Before long, Ezra had received his first spanking and I had received my first dose of 'traveling with toddler' reality.
When we got to the gate, we attempted to pre-board. The guy checking boarding passes told us we had to CHECK OUR CARSEAT and hold Ezra on our laps because the flight was full. Then he used my eyelids to wipe his boots. We stammered that we had bought Ezra a separate seat and how DARE you rattle the nerves of two ticking time bombs (traveling with toddler). Only, we didn't say bomb. We're not that stupid. It only took a second to clear the matter up- we printed Ezra's boarding pass and stumbled onto the plane. He did pretty good for the flight, but he started acting like he didn't feel good after we'd been in the air awhile. (Like mother, like son.) Then, he yarfed. (yucky details omitted... your welcome very much again.) I stayed calm and cleaned up and managed to change his clothes without removing him from his carseat. To this day, I have NO idea how I did that. I mean, that's physically impossible, right? APPARENTLY NOT.
To sum it all up, it was a somewhat sucky suck of a flight.
Christmas was awesome, however, and it made the sucky flight experience fade into distant memory. Ezra got brilliant stuff- including a Thomas Ball Pit that he rarely came out of for the remaining weeks of the trip. The best part of Christmas, though, was just being with family. There's nothing better than watching Mo-Mar and Ezra walk down the driveway all bundled up and hand in hand while they take the "gah-GAY" for a walk. (gah-GAY = doggie. It seems my son speaks with a French accent.) It warms my heart to see Ezra run up to Grandma and Grandpa with open arms... or to watch him play for hours with Doo-Dad by the fireplace. That's good stuff.
Our trip to Atlanta was great too. Chris and I really enjoyed the time away. By the last night, though, we were ready to get home and see our boy. We missed him like crazy. Our flight got delayed out of Atlanta and we missed our connection in Phoenix by about 90 seconds, so it was a long day getting back to see him again. And you'll never guess what he was doing the first time we saw him after being away from him for so long. He was RUNNING RAMPANT THROUGH THE AIRPORT, of course! Its his new favorite past time! (Grrr.)
Solid ground is a good place to be.