And Why I Especially Hate Airplanes

Warning:  We're still in the gross post series.  But this is the last one, I promise.

We made it on the plane.  My clothes were drenched in throw up, Babykins was still wearing nothing but a diaper and Crocs, and we had run out of both wipes and plastic bags, but at least...

No, at this point there was no bright side.  We had a 10 hour flight ahead of us and no end in sight to the great throw up marathon.

I'll give you the condensed version: Babykins threw up 3 more times before passing out for the rest of the flight.  I changed clothes three times, eventually ending up in my least disgusting pair of pants (which were still extremely gross) and a sweater with no buttons that I wore backwards and secured shut with a hair tie.  Auntie MO spent the entire flight freezing because I had borrowed her sweatshirt when I ran out of tops, and Babykins promptly threw up on it.  The little boy sitting in the seat across the aisle spent the entire flight trying not to look at us.  And because the flight attendants were completely un-helpful, the person who sat in my seat on the next flight was going to have a wet, smelly trip.

Throw up count: 9 (plus once more on the car ride to the Q, but really, by now, who's counting?)

Why I Also Hate Cars and Airports

The carpet was still stained a bright orange, and Babykins was wearing nothing but a diaper and Crocs, but we eventually made it out of the house and started the 20 minute drive to the airport.

Our trip to Pennsylvania may not have started as planned, but at least now I was prepared.  Auntie MO and I both had plastic bags stuffed in our pockets, I had wipes in the diaper bag, and really, after not eating for 3 days, then throwing up twice, how much more could Babykins have left in her stomach?

Apparently, a lot.

By the time we got to the airport, Babykins had thrown up 3 more times, covering herself, her car seat, and most of the back seat in half digested fruit snacks and depleting half of our plastic bag supply.

I popped her out of her car seat and started wiping her down, only to discover a bright red fruit snack lodged firmly in her belly button.  We had officially hit the point of not being able to decide whether to laugh or cry.

Auntie MO and I squared our shoulders, grabbed the bags and a still naked Babykins, and headed for the airport.

Half an hour later, we were through security and waiting at the gate, feeling relief.  This was the longest Babykins had gone without throwing up.  The worst seemed to be behind us.

And then Babykins let go, covering herself, my clothes, and our boarding passes in a huge amount of slime.

Throw up count: 6

To Be Continued...

yteixnA noitarapeS

Being in Pennsylvania surrounded by family has given me the opportunity to do things I normally can't do.  I've gone to lunch with friends, gone out with my sisters, taken showers that didn't revolve around Babykins' nap schedule, and today Hubbykins and I are going to the movies.

These activities have left Babykins in the loving care of family for up to 2 hours at a time.  My aunts are always happy to remind me of the time they babysat me as a 2-year-old and I cried for 2 straight hours.  This is definitely not Babykins' problem.  She loves playing with everyone and hardly notices that I'm gone.

The problem is that Babykins has reverse separation anxiety.  In the living room with grandparents and aunts, she plays, she giggles, she crawls, she coos.  Not a tear in sight.  The moment I walk in the room, her bottom lip quivers, her eyes scrunch up, and the crying begins. 

I'm not sure why the reverse separation anxiety hits.  Is she punishing me for leaving?  Is she sad that the fun time is over?  Or is she just reminding me that she is firmly in charge.  If that's the case, she can stop crying...I'm sure I won't forget anytime soon who wears the diapers in this family :)

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

Thank you so much for my first Christmas.  I had a great time!  First, I got to wake everyone up early.  Then mommy and daddy let me crawl all the way to the tree and pull out the paper that was hiding under it!  Did you know there were toys inside that paper?

I love playing with all of my new toys.  My shakers make lots of noise, and my lap top is just like daddy's!  I don't know how you knew just what to get me.  Please give your elves a big, drooly kiss for me.

Later that day (after mommy made me take a nap - boo!) lots of new adoring subjects came over to tell me how cute I am.  I graced them all with a smile, and even let some of them pick me up!  I bet Queen Elizabeth never lets her subjects pick her up.

That night, silly mommy and daddy tried to put me down for a full night's sleep.  I was very tired, but I was just too excited from the day.  I got up lots during the night to remind them about all the fun we had!

I heard about something called Christmas in July.  Could you send me a brochure?  I want to be ready.
Love,
Babykins

P.S.  Wasn't I the cutest baby ever in my fuzzy "Baby's First Christmas" jammies?  I'll wear them again next week in case you want to come back and leave more presents.

Wood Floor Wasteland

We have arrived safely in the frozen tundra that is Pennsylvania and snuggled down in my parents' home with no intention of leaving the heated house. While Hubbykins and I have overindulged in Christmas cookies, Babykins has had to face down the Wood Floor Wasteland.

My parents have a beautiful, new wood floor in their living room, with an area rug in the middle.  While it's gorgeous to look at (and fun for me to slide across in my socks), it posed a serious problem for Babykins when we arrived.  Not only is Babykins new to crawling, she has only ever experienced crawling on carpets, or on tile with bare knees.  So when her toy rolled off the area rug onto the wood floor, she didn't think twice about chasing after it.  Seconds later, she had wiped out, her pants-covered knees skidding across the wood.

This didn't deter our intrepid crawler, who doubled her efforts...and promptly slid backwards.  Unworried, she quickly decided she didn't really like that toy anyway, and turned her attention to other toys that were safely lying on the rug.  This quickly led to the Wood Floor Wasteland, where once beloved toys slowly languished outside the reach of Babykins.

This contentment with playing on the rug quickly ended, however, when the Christmas tree lights went on that night.  If ever there was something that would motivate Babykins to brave the Wood Floor Wasteland, it's the sparkle of a hundred lights and ornaments just waiting to be pulled off the tree.

We watched her square her shoulders, stare down the tree, and slowly move a knee onto the wood.  It took a few tries, but by dinnertime, Babykins had learned how to anchor herself with her hands while sliding her knees forward.  By bedtime, she was able to quickly and stealthily propel herself from the rug to the tree, little hand outstretched to wreak havoc on the lower branches.

Babykins still prefers the ease and safety of the area rug, but it's no longer surrounded by an effective wood moat, and breakables in the house are no longer safe.  She may not have brought her Adventurer Vest with her to Pennsylvania, but Babykins is still conquering all in her path.

Welcome Back!

We have returned from our trip to Australia, and Babykins officially has stamps in her passport.  It was a great trip, and Babykins once again reminded us why she's the best baby in the world.  Not only are we proud of the things she did - smiled and cooed at friends and family, napped like a champ, ate her first bites of chicken, and behaved beautifully while being babysat - we're also proud of the things she didn't do.

First and foremost, unlike all of the other babies around us on the plane ride home, Babykins did not throw up.  After having toddlers in the rows directly in front and behind us do some serious throwing up, I've never been so proud of Babykins ability to keep her food in her tummy.  She also avoided public meltdowns and held off on developing stranger anxiety and crawling abilities (two milestones that often pop up around this age) while traveling in another country and on small, enclosed planes.

Thank you for a fabulous trip, Babykins!  You were brave, well-behaved, and (as one soon-to-be father put it) a good advertisement for having kids.  As a reward, we're giving you 17 days of R&R before we test you one more time on the flight to Pennsylvania.