No more planes for a while

I’m back and we survived. Barely.

Messy boy did amazingly well on the way down to Sacramento. His little eyelids shut themselves on takeoff and didn’t open until about an hour into the flight. When he woke up, he played with pretzels and drank watered down orange juice. Not too shabby for a 14 month old!

My ma ma and fashion-savy brother picked us up from the Airport and we were off to my Grandparents house. Now my Grandparents have lived in the same house for as long as I can remember. I spent summers tanning myself on their back lawn and sleeping in the same hard twin bed, it hasn’t changed. Now I love my grandmother to bits, but let’s put some things out into open, just to clear some things up. According to grandma, Donovan is super cute because all mixed marriage children are. My brother needs to get married before she dies. And I look pregnant.

Yes you did read that last according-to-grandma-factoid correctly. I guess I need to start running again, stop eating junk food, and stop eating PW recipes. Yes to the first, yes to the second, and a HELL NO to the third. I’ll suffer with being fat. Hopefully one of these days I will actually be expecting and therefore looking pregnant would be acceptable. But until then, I’m simply going to work out to compensate for eating good food. I’m not 18 anymore with the stamina of a college soccer player AND I pushed a watermelon out last year. The cutest watermelon you will ever see, so my tiger striped, saggy belly is worth it. Maybe when I’m finished carrying babies in my womb, I’ll work on the getting back to my 18 year old’s body. Yeah right.

Oh yeah, back to the California trip.

We ate dinner with the family at my uncle’s house, consumed calories equal to Bill Gate’s bank account, and drove home with one VERY VERY tired messy boy. He didn’t go to sleep until 11:00, I believe this was the beginning of the end.

We woke up the next day, power showered and went back to my uncle’s for my grandmother’s 3 year service. The minister came to the house and gave a service right in the living room, chanting and all. When I was small, I didn’t understand Buddhist beliefs, what was all this crap about enlightenment and suffering? Now that I am older, I appreciate the traditions and beliefs of Buddhism, even if I don’t practice on a regular basis.

So after some more food with the family, pictures, and feeding my child an entire slice of apple time, it was nearly time to go home.

The plane ride home was HELL.

I mean that in the nicest possible fashion. I love my little man and I am so happy that he charmed up the passengers before getting on the plane because he would have likely ended up tied to the wing otherwise. I’m not going to go into details because it will just make my anxiety rise again, lets just say it took everything in me to remain calm and patient. 1 ½ hour flight and 2 temper tantrums later, we landed in Seattle where Xbox man picked us up and whisked myself and bawling, cranky messy boy home.

I think when we travel to Texas in October, Xbox man gets to deal with Messy boy and I’m going to sit in first class and drink my champagne.