We just made it back home from a fun filled 12 days in Washington. We had a lot of fun, and got to visit lots of old friends while we were there. But that isn't what I am going to tell about tonight.
Our trip home was a memorable one, no doubt. We took the easy way out. We flew.
On our way to Seattle, we had an easy going morning, no rush at the airport, had plenty of time. The girls did great.
Then we got on the plane.
All hell broke loose. We kept joking that we needed a reality show or something because the flight was so bad.
Well today started off bad. Abigail was up a lot last night. We were up late last night, trying to pack all of our Christmas stuff into our luggage. Weighing, shifting things around, reweighing.
All 4 of us have bad colds and congestion. Ellie is teething.
We got out the door about 15 minutes later than we had planned, pretty normal for us, admittedly.
Ellie cried the whole way to the airport. We dug through the luggage, found the motrin, and gave her a dose.
We paid for a cart to carry all of our crap on. Because, well, you only have to do some things once in life.
We got checked in, and got to the bag check, crossing our fingers. The weight limit is 50 lbs. 49.6, 50.2, and 50.8. They let us squeak by.
We take our cart as far as they will let us go, to ease the craziness of carrying our 3 big carry ons, purse, and two backpacks and the two kids, a stroller, and a car seat. Security is where we must part ways.
We grab some lunch to eat on the plane, and then head down to our gate, of course, the last gate of the terminal.
They are already boarding. Why wouldn't they be.
We go to get a claim at gate tag for the stroller, and they have to stop boarding, and shift people already on the plane around, because we were assigned an exit row.
Boarding continues after a few minutes, and we finally get on board, the last ones on the plane.
We finally get to our row, and there is another lap child on the row, so we have to be moved again, and they move another whole row of people because you can only have one infant on a row because of the oxygen masks.
Finally, we are on our way. I joked to Charles that maybe since our morning had been so chaotic, they plane ride would be easy going.
I proved to be very wrong.
Ellie was all over the place. Abigail was in her car seat, and we thought maybe if we could coax Abigail to my lap to color, that Ellie might take a little nap in the car seat.
Success. Ellie napped for about 45 minutes. It was glorious.
We switched and put Abigail back in the car seat for a bit, until she started asking for some Mama snuggles. We got her out, put Ellie in the car seat again, and just as I sat Abigail in my lap, facing me, she got a funny look on her face, coughed, and threw up a little in my lap.
I took one look and knew that wasn't the end of it.
"CHARLES! (in panic) Grab a bag." Trying to be discrete, but seriously in panic.
I cupped my hands for a great catch. She filled them.
A little louder, and more panicked.
CHARLES! HURRY! A bag!!
He looks at me with a blank stare of horror.
She throws up again, with now where to go but my lap.
At this point, I am practically yelling at Charles as he rummages through our trash filled seat back pockets for a barf bag.
And with great timing, the beverage cart pulls up.
Charles finally gets the bag open and looks at me like, "What now?"
"Well bring it over here so I can empty my hands!!"
He finally does, and I get it to Abigail's mouth just in time for the last catch.
I look up and see the flight attendants just as they realize what has happened.
"Oh dear," one says, "I'll get you some napkins." The other flight attendant gags, and pulls the cart out of my way.
We head to the bathroom to clean up, while Charles rummages through the dirty clothes that got shoved in our carry ons when there was no room anywhere else.
I spent the rest of the flight in his pants, and a dirty tshirt.
After I got out of the bathroom, I apologized to the flight attendants. One of them put it well... she said,"Girl, that was all you, you caught every bit of that. Way to go., that was all you!"
The whole way home Abigail had a bag ready to go, but we made it home without any more incidents.
Then she walked in the house, ran to the trash can, and threw up again.
I don't know what is worse... if she has a stomach bug for the second time in a month, or if she is doomed to a life of motion sickness like her mother.
Actually... I do know what is worse.
Now, I'm going to go take some Tylenol for the headache I got when I pulled our carry on bag down and hit myself in the face with a shoebox.