Traumatic Travel, Shopping Carts, & Time in Pokey

Whew. This past week or two was a doozy. A fun doozy, but a doozy nonetheless.

We had 2 flights, 1 road trip, 1 wedding, 1 baby shower, 1 case of croup, and 1 ear infection.

We'll start with the slightly traumatic travel experience.

Slightly Traumatic Travel Experience

A few proclamations: 

Proclamation #1: If you are the kind of person who takes up extra seats for your bags in the airport terminal leaving other travelers the option of sitting on the floor or standing, I'm sorry you're such a lonely person. Surely that kind of behavior isn't conducive for a happy life filled with friends and loved ones.

Proclamation #2: Don't be mean to a parent traveling with a baby. They're stressed out enough and your stink eye just makes them angry, especially when their little precious angel baby isn't even making a peep. The end.

The flight going to Kansas was a little less than ideal, flying with a sick baby who was 2 hours past his bedtime, but we made it alive.

I'd like to thank two of my travel comrades. 

A sarcastic special thanks to the grumpy lady sitting next to us who, after I joked about holding up Beckett so the other passengers boarding wouldn't sit in the empty seat between her and me, said, "Yea, right? Because NO ONE likes sitting next to babies on planes." Hmph.

A for real special thanks to the older man on the flight home from Kansas who chose to sit next to us and helped me entertain the babe when he began pondering whether or not to freak out. And sorry again for the teensy-tiny sippy cup spill that soaked your left arm...

The man on the return flight was so kind and patient with my obviously near-panicked self. When we had exited the plane and he was off to catch his connecting flight, I stopped right outside the door of the plane to fasten Beckett in the gate-checked stroller. I started to say thanks to the man and wish him luck on his next flight, so I said:

 "Keep safe... being... being... being... being... home!"

Those were the final words he will remember us by. Instead of successfully saying, "be safe getting home" I managed 50% of the words I was looking for, leaving this nice man scratching his head and saying, "What the heck just happened?"

It didn't help that he was holding up traffic in the tunnel waiting for me to come up with the word I was looking for. I don't know if I had a small stroke or aneurysm  or something, but I absolutely could not think of the word I wanted to say next, and I couldn't stop saying "being".

What a dumdum.

Shopping Carts

Our Target is under a serious remodel. Part of their new look includes futuristic shopping carts. They're totally revamped, making you look as cool as you can look while shopping for K-cups and pasta shells.

They're fancy and all, but they really stress this guy out. 

Left: how far back the seat normally is.

Right: how close Beckett pulls the seat.

For some reason, these new carts cause him to hold on for dear life for the entirety of our shopping experience. It wasn't until the cashier looked at him and said, "Well chill out, buddy. No need to hold on so tight." that I realized his anxiety was evident to others. 

Time in Pokey

I love my Nanny & Papa. I also love going to visit Pocahontas, the thriving metropolis where I dug through barf and where we eat birdshot. 

They've never lived close to us, so it was always a special treat when we went to see them. Now that I get to take my son to their house to play like I did, it makes me all gooshy and teary-eyed inside. 

I also love seeing my aunt, uncle, and cousins. (Andrew and Alex...you're just getting soooo big {virtual cheek squeeze}.) My cousin Samantha got married while we were there and she was a beautiful bride. Her husband also makes a mean pecan pie, so I like him a whole lot. 

My best friend from 7th grade on (a small reminder that miracles DO happen for those of you who knew the junior high version of me) and her husband also came to visit. Nanny & Papa are big fans of her, too. 

So, anyway, that's all. Here are pictures from our extravaganza in Pokey.

Brandon, MK, Beckett & I. No picture of her and I is complete without one of us being an idiot. It was my turn in this one, obvi.

Nanny, Mom, MK, & me

Brandon w/ Beckett. By the way, note the little orange toy in both pictures. He would NOT let go of it for the photoshoot.

Eating fail.

Papa & Beckett

My Papa.