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Friday, April 17, 2009

Wish me luck

I'm gonna need it.

I'm heading to Hotlanta (always wanted to say that) this weekend to visit my old granny.

She's starting to struggle a bit with dementia so I figured I'd better get a visit in before she can't tell me from a hole in the wall.

I'm going down, via airplane, with Mimi and #3, which is why I need luck. Not sure Mimi is gonna behave herself.

Just kidding.

It's #3 I'm worried about.

It's our own faults, really. We are unable to provide crowd control so we never take the dudes anywhere.

Actually, we do take them places that we can go by car, primarily because buying plane tickets for four people (#3 is still free) is just not in our budget. We are trying to pay for things like food, shelter, clothing, and chocolate; you know, the necessities.

Which means, this is the first time I've flown anywhere with a toddler.

I feel like he is a pretty typical specimen of the toddler community, but he has a few things working against him as far as this trip is concerned.

First, he likes his schedule. He is committed to it, he thrives with it, and neither he, nor I, are too interested in deviating from it. I've never been very spontaneous, chastise me if you want, but we are like clockwork, and it works for us. We are all happier if we get up, eat, crap, and sleep at the same time every day. Since we have to get up extremely early to make our flight, I anticipate that his mood is gonna be shot.

Which leads to my second concern, his mood. He doesn't perform well when he's tired. Like many other people he gets crabby and agitated and downright mean when he doesn't get to sleep properly. So, I'm apologizing in advance to all of our fellow passengers who are going to fall victim to his pissy mood this weekend. My bad.

Third, he has a serious case of mud butt right now. As many of you know, poo is a major part of our lives, and #3 seems to, quite frequently, be drowning in it (as am I). If my memory serves me right, airplane lavatories may not be the roomiest diaper changing stations. Plus, I can't even envision the number of people that will be giving us the evil eye when he drops his bombs at 30,000 feet. So, again, people, my apologies. Not much I can do to keep that stuff in. Just make sure you have those handy little barf bags at your fingertips 'cause chances are you're gonna be needing them. Again, my bad.

Fourth thing, he H-A-T-E-S, to be held. He doesn't mind riding in a car seat or a stroller too much, but he really doesn't do laps. It's like he understands the need for safety (car seat) or the desire to move at a faster pace (stroller), but from his perspective, if he can be held then he can walk (and touch stuff, and annoy people), and he's not interested in any perfectly reasonable arguments for why he should allow me to hold him. And, if I'm not willing to release him, he has a number of highly effective tactics that usually convince me that he is, in fact, not supposed to be held: dead body baby (I don't fully understand how he can actually make himself weigh more in a matter of seconds, but trying to lift him is like trying to lift a sandbag), crocodile spin baby, obnoxious, piercing scream baby, pimp slap Mommy baby, just to name a few. So, I fully expect to make at least 75 trips up and down the aisles of the plane during our 2 hour flight. So, watch your elbows people, we're coming through.

And, finally, everyone should be prepared to listen to him talk (aka scream) for the duration of the flight. He L-O-V-E-S to talk. Almost as much as he hates to be held. And, he'll strike up a conversation with a perfect stranger. Don't feel like you have to indulge him by pretending like you know what he's saying. He could care less if you respond, he just likes a smile and an occasional head bob; despite the inflections and hand gestures, he's speaking gibberish anyway. Also, as a by product of being the third child in a family of loud mouth boys, he has a rather loud speaking voice (plus he's probably a little deaf from all the ruckus). Don't be alarmed, he's not angry or upset, he's just making sure he's heard.

So, reader, wish us a fun, safe, relatively uneventful trip.

Actually, just wish for a post from me on Monday because that means that we weren't stoned and thrown from the plane for being unbearable.

Plus, I have a 100th post surprise for you all next week! So you want me to come back:)


Anonymous said...

This confirms why I haven't been on a plane once since my first child was born. Those are pretty much all of my in-air fears wrapped into one post.

Good luck!

Anonymous said...

Hope all goes well! And if not, at least it will make for some great blog posts.

otherworldlyone said...

Have a safe trip...and good luck!

Shawn said...

Oh of luck to ya.

I'm glad you are visiting your granny though. That's just what mine was called too, granny. She finally didn't remember me and it was just sad cause I was always her favorite.

Give her an extra hug for me.

joanofalltrades said...

I'm in Hotlanta along with a lot of other great bloggers. LMAO at Mudd Butt. If anyone gives you dirty looks on the plane when #3 starts screaming, just smile and say, "at least you'll have a good story to tell with it!"

I am Harriet said...

I'm wishin' ya luck.
Atlanta is beautiful. Hope it's a good trip for ya.

Rae Ann said...

Rough! Maybe there will be an extra seat in your row and he can climb all over you and Mimi without incurring overmuch wrath. good luck!

Karin said...

Good luck and a safe, uneventful return ! Can't wait to hear your stories from Hotlanta.

Anonymous said...

Good luck. And a little advice from a mother whose flown with a toddler bunches (feel free to let your eyes glaze over now). Have a bag with every toy, book, and treat he loves. Have some tylenol to give him before take off for the ear preasure. Plan for the worst. DO NOT LET THEM TAKE that bag from your hands because they may try, which is how good babies go bad on planes. You'll be fine!

Deb said...

I'm wishing you luck, as well. I've been there, done that and survived it...just to give you some hope. Sometimes when you expect the worse, anything better than the worst is pretty darn good.

kathryn said...

Oh my goodness! I'm saying a prayer for you. We fly back to Iowa in a couple months for my brother's wedding and I am terrified: for all the reasons you just listed.

newduck said...

Oh the mudbutt, there is NOTHING worse than mudbutt on a plane. I flew across the country three times with my baby before I discovered that every airplane bathroom has a weird little changing table clipped to the wall behind the toilet. I had NO idea it was there, but whenever I tell people about it they act like I'm an idiot because I never knew about it and spent three miserable flights trying to change my baby in the bathroom sink. Hope your flight goes better than mine!

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