Last Thursday I suddenly found myself sitting on an airplane. You would think that getting on an airplane would require a fair amount of warning, however you would think wrong. I am completely justified when I say it was sudden. I had been sitting at my desk trying to decide if I was going to go to the gym or not at lunch. Then I got the following text from Kevin: "Lunch?" Huh. Decision made. Over lunch at our favorite Thai restaurant we start talking about how it was opening day of early doe season in Michigan. I made a comment about how it's too bad that he wasn't going up for it. I had been trying to talk him into it since Labor Day, my reasoning being if we fill our freezer now, we wouldn't have to stress as much about not getting a deer in November (and I wouldn't have to help him process and grind it and could instead use that time to sit my happy ass in the hot tub). He agreed (not with the hot tub part), then we moved on to other topics. After lunch, he dropped me off at work. At 1:50 I was sitting at my desk when I got "the call" from Kevin telling me that he had booked us plane tickets and by 2:35 we were headed for the airport. Somehow I managed to get to the daycare to get Junior, get home, and pack, all in under 30 minutes (even managing to remember underwear). I have no idea why he couldn't have planned this, say, 2 weeks ago when I first told him that he should go up hunting, but whatever.

After racing to the airport (luckily, my husband was a race car driver as he is constantly reminding me, as I white knuckle the dashboard whenever he's driving) and literally running through the airport, we made it to the gate only to discover that the ticketing agent hadn't put our seats together. After explaining to the gate attendents that us not sitting together would result in my having a very disgruntled seat mate when they found out that 1) I fully expected not only their cooperation in wrangling Junior for the 2.5 hour flight, I expected them to help and enjoy it, and 2) they would also be required to help with feedings (ie - see my boobs), since trying to maneuver Greyden into eating position is quite the feat in those tiny seats and he does NOT like to be covered when he's dining. And no, I wasn't dragging out the jarred baby food and risking everyone within a 3 seat radius wearing it. The airline agreed and quickly managed to find us seats together. Once they got everyone crammed on the plane and ready to go, they decided that it was the perfect time to tell us that one of the A/C units was only blowing hot air, but not to worry, maintenance was working on it. As if being confined in a small space with a wiggly infant isn't bad enough, let's add sweat to the mix and see if he's any easier to keep a grip on. No? Okay, great. Kevin is lucky that I am so understanding love adventure think he has great ideas stayed on the plane, because by the time 30 minutes had crawled by, I was slightly less than thrilled with his so-called "great plan". 

When we did finally manage to get off the ground (a full 60 minutes later), Greyden was about as thrilled with the entire situation as I was and only slightly more difficult to deal with. And God forbid the child give in to his drooping eyelids and actually sleep. It was only once we were in the rental car and heading out of Detroit that he gave in. Nothing like giving an infant a 2 hour nap before he's expected to go down for the night, right? We finally pulled into my parent's driveway at 11pm sharp.

I have to be honest, being at my parent's house was rough. The Mighty Mighty Hunter (Kevin) was too busy being out in the wild drinking beer not getting deer preparing for the hunt to really help much with Greyden. That meant that I was responsible for all feedings, naps, diaper changes, and entertainment (which is the exact reason why the kid is in daycare people!). Kerry was busy with Addie, who decided that having Greyden around was taking away from the attention that should be bestowed upon her and was subsequently seriously pissed off about it. Mom was busy running between the two grandbabies on Friday, then ditched all of us to go to a wedding on Saturday. I mean, she did RSVP that she would attend, but come on. Kerry and I travel hundreds of miles for a break for a babysitter to spend quality time with her and we get ditched. We did manage to convince her to come home after the reception and not stay the night, however it was not lost on either Kerry or I that she didn't come home until after the baby's bedtime. Well, what was supposed to the baby's bedtime. Addie was still busy being pissed and taking out her rage on anyone who would listen. (Please note that at that point the only people who would listen were her parents. The more experienced of us (me) were all in the "let her cry, she'll be fine" camp. They'll learn.)

And in case you're wondering what Kevin did with his time while there:



The Command Post, on it's way to it's annual cleaning. I think Kevin may be giving me a thumbs up, although I can't imagine why.




Please note the silver balls hanging from the front of the Scout.




The "Mighty Mighty Hunter" looking happier than a pig in shit.



Command Post: Side 2 - Having a flat tire while pulling it didn't seem to bother Kevin in the least. 

I have to admit, I was slightly worried about entertaining Junior at Grandma and Grandpa's house. We didn't bring any toys with us (mainly because someone didn't give us any time to pack them) and I was wondering how we were going keep him occupied all weekend. I don't know why I was worried. First thing Friday morning, Mom's kitchen storage closet puked toys from the 80s all over her kitchen. There were toys that I hadn't even thought about in 25 years stacked on every surface. Greyden took one look and was instantly in 7th heaven, and not because there were suddenly toys everywhere. In order to get the toys out from under the staircase, Mom had to pretty much empty her kitchen storage closet. From there it took Greyden approximately 15 seconds to zero in on the salad spinner. 300+ different toys of all colors and sizes, and he picks that. There is absolutely no need to tell Santa what's on Junior's wish list this year.

As if the salad spinner wasn't reason enough for Greyden to be Sir Happy Baby, he discovered his second favorite toy while we were there - stairs. He literally spent hours going up and down them, all while holding onto my fingers. HOURS. One foot per step. Once we hit the landing, he'd turn around, sit down, swing his legs over the edge, and scootch forward until he was standing on the next step. Aaaaaall the way back down. The kid was a machine. Since then I have thanked God every day that we don’t have stairs in our house.

In addition to the salad spinner and stairs, Greyden got to go for rides with Grandpa in the Scout (yes, balls and all) and in the backhoe. I can already tell that my dad is trying to figure out how old Grey needs to be before he wills him the family excavating business. Sorry Dad. Mommy and Daddy already have plans for him to go into the NFL and support us in our old age.



In case you're wonding, Greyden is NOT floating in mid-air as it appears in the picture. Grandpa is actually wearing camouflage pants!


Getting back home was slightly easier then our trip up there (meaning the flight actually took off on time AND we had A/C) however Greyden again decided not to sleep until the car ride home (again, a 45 minute nap right before bedtime. Nice.) Once we got home we were exhausted. We managed to get Greyden to sleep, hoover split an entire large pizza between the two of us, and crawl into bed. It was only once we were laying there that Kevin suddenly asked me if I had seen our cat Linus since we had gotten home. Funny, I hadn't. He's always out and about these days. 2 minutes later we found him locked in a closet, where he had apparently been stuck the entire weekend. Thank god we were only gone 2.5 days. Apparently I need to make sure to leave the pet sitter more explicit instructions when we go out of town to expand the scope of the Pet Sitting Job Description to include a "Ensure all pets are accounted for and not locked in closets" clause. (I had assumed this was a given. No?) This could have turned out very badly had it been a week long trip.  

Besides that little, uh, "miscommunication," the trip was a success. Which was a nice surprise considering that, while staring daggers at Kevin on the entire flight up to Michigan, I had had some serious doubts. Oh, and Kevin did manage to put his beer down long enough to shoot a deer, so at least we won't starve this year. (Side note: Kevin's deer hunting has meant that we haven't had to buy a package of ground beef in about 3 years. With his little hunting hiatus last year (Greyden being born) we didn't have much ground venison left in the freezer and finally used the last of it a few weeks ago. So last Wednesday I was unloading groceries and Kevin saw that I had a stack of packages of ground turkey 2 feet high sitting on the counter to go into the freezer. The following day, we were on a plane. Coincidence?) 

That night was rough. Greyden decided that he much preferred being rocked to lying in his crib, meaning he would start shrieking every time we tried to lay him down. Kevin ended up falling asleep in the recliner while holding Junior, while I passed out on the floor of the nursery. About an hour after my alarm was supposed to go off (and actually was, but unfortunately was doing so in a different room) I felt myself get pegged with the hard, plastic remote to Greyden's mobile. That was Kevin's cue to me that he was 1) finally putting Greyden down in his crib, and 2) really late for his flight to Louisiana. I guess he thought it was okay to get my attention this way since that's usually how I get him to stop snoring when he's cashed on the nursery floor while I'm feeding Grey in the middle of the night. (I'd like to take this opportunity to point out for the record that I only whip soft things, like burp cloths, at him.)

Needless to say, it has been impossible to catch up on our sleep this week. Greyden decided to start teething again and has therefore been Sir Crabby Paddy since Monday. Luckily the top left tooth (that appeared to be the big offender) sprouted through yesterday, bringing the grand total to 3. Only 198 more to go. Wait, has that number gone up since my last post? Will this ever end???

Greyden's preferred method of travel throughout the airports. Thanks Daddy.

This one is a little blurry because they're IN MOTION. You can pretty much plan on never getting Greyden back into his stroller ever again.