So I’m still recovering but sometime soon I hope to give you guys a more thorough rundown on some of the high (and low) lights from our trip from Denver to the very end of Long Island with our whole damn circus of diapers and teething and tantrums. There were trains, planes, minivans, and ferries both to and from our family’s home on Shelter Island, which has always been one of my happiest places on earth. It still is. But going there with kids instead of as one of the kids is way, way less fun. Shocking, I know.
As a preview, during our twelve plus hour return travels yesterday, the baby I was holding for takeoff both threw up on me and pooped just as we were taking off after a 45 wait on the tarmac. Then she finally fell asleep, after I’d been squeezing and shaking and singing my heart out trying to get her to stop crying and just fall asleep already since boarding. Thus, I got to sit in my vomit-covered, shit-smelling seat awkwardly holding my now blessedly sleeping baby until the captain finally turned the seatbelt light off, when I then had to wake her up to change her. Much screaming and crying ensued (from both of us and probably some of the poor people in the surrounding seats).
Seriously. I could not make this stuff up if I tried.
On the other hand, there was this:
So, as with most things in life, there were some terrible parts but they were mostly made up for by the great parts in between. Give me a year and I might be willing do it all over again.