jiggity jig

No, I did not fall off the blog-obsessed face of the earth.

I should have spent all of the week before today indulging in neurotic travel-related behaviors. However, my chaotic splendor was interrupted by a torrent of loud visitors; aunt, uncle, and cousins. I won't go into the complicated reasons that brought them to my door step, but their visit was both unexpected and unappreciated. I spent the few days of their invasion following after them to clean up the trail of dirt they left. I have never cleaned so many dirty dishes in such a short time! The visit started off poorly as I selfishly pouted in response to the theft of my time to panic! It was mine and they stole it!

Regardless, I am now sitting in my dad's house typing on an unfamiliar keyboard. Richie went to bed two hours late (by Texas time). I fought him to the minute to keep him up as close to 8:00 (California time) as I could. We ate delcious chicken at Applewood Barbecue.

I know my thoughts are random. The day is catching up with me.

We had a long flight. A long, long flight.
I woke up at 5:00 this morning to get ready to leave by 6:00. I woke Richie up at 5:45. We were on the road by 6:15. Richie in his organic cotton pants, shirt, and adorable hoodie. Me, I was not so smart. I should have been wearing organic cotton loungy clothes. Instead, I had straightened hair, made-up face, and wore a dress. A dress with high heeled sandle wedges. I greatly questioned this decision as I ran out of the house juggling baby and diaper bag.

I chose to sit in the backseat to keep Richie awake, since I was hoping he would sleep for a solid chunk of our six hour flight time. He was not keen to staying awake. I handed him a stray color swatch from Home Depot that I found hiding in the pocket behind the front seat. I was desperate. It was a very long drive. With Richie farting and my mom expressing need for a bathroom, we drove straight through to San Antonio from Del Rio. Three hours and then some. Not a good start to the day.

When we pulled into San Antonio we decided to stop at Babies R Us to get Richie some new swim trunks for the trip, and to make use of their bathroom. We pulled into the parking lot at 9:09. The store opens at 9:30.

Great.

Then, it started raining. Further proof that their is no god.

We made it in and out of the store in record time. Like, world record time. I don't know of any baby-toting mama who has made it out of that store spending less than 20 minutes and 50 dollars. Somehow we pulled it off and made it to the airport in time for an iced chai tea latte.

Oh. yeah.

Airport security is insane. I had to remove Richie from my beloved Maya Wrap and I had to remove to his little leather Nikes. What could I possibly be hiding in his little size 2 shoes? I'm glad I don't know. And yet, we survived the security checkpoint. Really, they were all very nice. One of the security ladies carried mine and Richie's belongings over to a table and chair. That was probably the best part of the whole flight experience.

We boarded first. Keeping things consistent, I decided to regret getting on the plane so soon. Sure, we got to pick whatever seat we wanted. BUT, do you realize how slow everyone else was boarding? Waiting with Richie in my lap on a clammy plane was less than enjoyable. He was angry and I was counting down the moments until I could nurse him into Maya-wrapped slumber.

Ha!

He screamed for four hours. You know those times when your child is behaving so wildly you offer up a weak smile that screams endless apologies? I couldn't even bring myself to look at anyone. I felt bad for Richie. I felt bad for the other passengers. I was helpless. Helpless and trapped next to the window by a very fat man.

Then we landed in San Diego. On descent, Richie decided that maybe flying wasn't so bad. Everyone walked by and said how good he was. I offered up a certain smile. This one said, "If you only knew."

Richie was good while passengers departed and reloaded. You see, in my pre-travel brilliance, I booked a flight with no lay-over. We had one stop in San Diego, but we weren't allowed to get off. I think I am losing my common sense. I have made one bad choice after another.

Richie spent the little more than an hour to Oakland acting like an angel. He fooled all the new passengers into thinking he was a blue-eyed flirt and nothing more. How could eyes so blue ever squeeze out tears? Just ask the two guys who were sitting next to us, but moved for the second part of the flight. Yes, that's right; I scared two large Mexican men into giving up their seats. I owe it all to my little screamer.

Richie decided that since he was such a trooper on part two of the flight that he could poop all over us. It's a California-bound ritual. Not one that I particularly like.

Poop covered and exhausted, we made it.

I forgot how many buildings there were...