home again

I'm home! After five fun filled days under the California...er....clouds, I'm back. The trip, as expected, was fantastic. Nothing better than spending time with my family, and we had a great time looking at houses and narrowing down the areas of interest for mom and dad. But flying, I could do without. When we got to the airport yesterday morning, I breezed up to the self check in kiosk and was alarmed to receive a printout reading "see agent" instead of the anticipated boarding pass. Damn. Flight cancelled. I was rebooked, but the next two flights to Dallas were full, leaving me on the third option, 5 hours later. 5 hours in the entertainment challenged Orange County airport. By the time I boarded I'd read half of my book, read each word of my Us Weekly and In Touch magazines, gone back to the newstand for a Reader's Digest (desperate times), back once more for a local newspaper (desperate measures), and clogged both mine and Cinco's arteries with two McDonald's cheeseburgers and a medium fry. I figured I'd snooze through the flight, since it was about naptime anyway.

The bratty 2 year old behind me had different plans. As soon as I laid eyes on the tottering munchkin, I pretty much knew I was screwed. He looked owly and I swear he stared me down as he waddled past my seat. Just moments later, he was in the throes of a MAJOR temper tantrum, complete with gaspy breaths and shrieks that sent dogs barking miles from the runway, and kicks to the back of my seat that would have been helpful had I been choking or something, with their heimlich effect. And as I learned from his mother's pleas for his cooperation, his name was Braden. Braden's mom enrolled immediately in my shit list with her feeble attempt to silence B-man's tantrum- teach him how to work the seat back tray. The seat tray on MY seat back, mind you. For ten minutes, I worked through the jolting that resulted from Braden releasing the tray with a crash and kicking the tray back into place...deep breath, happy place, deep breath. But then, I'd pretty much freaking had it and shot his mom a look that made it clear I didn't find Braden's trick as cute as she did. To which she responded by looking at me as if I'd just stomped on the head Braden's kitten- I was an evil, child hating wench, obviously. Because anyone who truly loves children would be *totally* okay with being thrown all about in her $400 plane seat because someone didn't get his nap. Right?

The fun didn't end with Braden. There was also a barking puggle three seats over who escaped mid flight, an angry mother berating her kids for the world to hear because they wouldn't "JUST TRY ONE MORE TIME TO PEE BECAUSE YOU'RE REALLY MAKNG ME MAD RIGHT NOW", and the same angry woman telling her husband "THEY WOULDN'T BE SUCH BRATS IF YOU WEREN'T SO FUCKING INDUGLENT". We were in row 24, folks, and that last bit was spewed at such high volume I'm fairly certain the pilots heard. It was super awesome, I tell ya. Did I mention the urine on the bathroom floor? The stinky, sticky urine that held my flip flop firmly to the ground and induced another round of gagging and nausea? We really need to strike it rich and buy a plane. This public flying stuff's just not working for me. And at least then, when it's *my* precious darling having a total toddler meltdown, we won't be ruining anyone else's flight with our seat back tray acrobatic act.

Otherwise, all is well. I had another ultrasound the day before leaving for California, and things looked very good with the little one. When I told the nurse practicioner how excited I was that we'd made it this far, she smiled and assured me to "relax, because you'll be carrying this one for the long run". Hearing that from the mouth of a medical professional was so, so wonderful. The ultrasound pictures show what looks like an actual BABY! He/she was dancing all about, arms and legs moving....it was miraculous. Here's the latest picture of the little munchkin just over a week ago, at 9 weeks 4 days.