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:)
