Harry was perfect, smiling at anyone who would give him the time of day...just a happy baby. He did not cry, just slept and ate. The only thing difficult about Harry is that he is 20lbs of dead weight, my arms were so sore. Clark, on the other hand, was possessed by the devil as soon as the plane left the tarmac. I have never seen him act the way he did...saying he threw a tantrum is like saying a hurricane is a little drizzle of rain. It was the longest flight ever...but it was worth it to go home for Christmas (and the wedding).
To say we were dreading the flight home is an understatement. When were were at the gate waiting to board, Clark figured out what was going on. He lost it. He was so sacred, crying, screaming, trying to run away. Poor, poor Tuna. Jason and I were unable to sit next to each other, but I could hear him screaming from 15 rows away. Once we landed in LA, to switch planes, Clark had had it with Jason. So I had to carrying him, along with the fatty baby, to the next terminal. There I was lugging 50lbs of babies, my pants were falling down, I was dehydrated and starving...practically in tears. I was wishing so bad we still lived in California, then we would already be home (or better yet, we could've driven home!!) We finally made it to the gate. Clark's spirits were renewed with a bag of M&M's, and Jason went to get us some food. We had a good 45 minutes until our next flight to relax. Imagine my terror when I realized that I left Harry's bottle on the last plane. I had his formula and water, but I left his bottle. I had nothing to feed him with. They don't sell bottles at the airport...you can get diapers, condoms, mustard, sewing kits, and ridiculously priced nuts...but no bottles. We didn't know what to do. I was literally having a panic attack, I felt horrible knowing what was to come. Harry is the best baby ever, he never cries EVER, unless he is hungry. We got on the plane anyways...I was planning on trying to get Harry to some how drink his milk out of Clark's sippy cup. Thirty minutes into the flight, Jason found a family that had a little kid, and luckily they had an extra bottle...Thank GOD! I have never been so relieved in all of my life...I love that lady where ever she is, LOVE her.
So in conclusion, when the flight attendant tells you to check the seat pocket in front of you for personal belongings, DO IT!
We are home. We are happy. In fact, Clark was thrilled to be back home with all of his things. I know he misses everyone, playing with his cousins and family, but he loved being back home. I am finally caught up on everything, and I finished my last load of laundry last night (woot!)
I am definitely not looking forward to getting on a plane with Clark anytime soon (it is a good thing we still have about 18 months living here).
3 comments:
I didn't enjoy flying with kids either. Adam was an angel at 3 (but he has always been super easy) and Carus has always been a bit of a challenge. She didn't cry, but she did have a diaper blow out..on my lap..and I was wearing shorts (blessing and curse) and you cannot clean up the baby or yourself too well in those tiny little bathrooms!
I LOVE road trips too. All the more reason for ya to move to Oregon, road trips back and forth!
Wow. If I went through all that stuff I really would have a nervous breakdown and not leave the couch for a month once I was home.
I think the silver lining of this story is that your pants were falling down. In a way you could have maybe been happy about that.
From age one until three flying with kids is a joke. I am so glad that someone let you borrow a bottle. Thinking of the Fat Nugget having to go without food makes me want to cry! Luckily next time it will just be you and Harry. Can't wait to see you guys!
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