Rollin' to the ABQ

My middle sister lives in Albuquerque, NM. Late last week my one and half year old son and I flew to the ABQ to visit her and her very sweet husband.

Have you ever flown alone with a one and half year old? I don't recommend it.

Let me start by saying my son was ROCK STAR on the plane. He sat in his seat by himself and really seems to enjoy it most of the time.

The tricky part was the airport.

We arrived early for our departing flight since (usually) that makes me feel better about the whole flying experience. I hate to be rushed. My father came inside with me so that he could watch the baby while I checked us in. The guy checking us in actually REFUNDED my son's ticket since the flight was not very full and my son was under two years old. Everything was going really well until we hit the line for security.

I did not bring a stroller for my son because he's not so hip on those things these days. He's all about this new found freedom that walking and running brings to his life. Does this help you imagine how much he DOESN'T understand waiting in line (especially when there is no shopping cart to sit in)?

I'm also wearing a back pack that weighs about 15 lbs and I'm trying to convince my young son that he needs to either let me hold him OR stand right by me while we wait in a line surrounded by transit security officers. I keep assuring him that this will be the hardest part of the whole trip and that once we get to the other side of all that machinery he'll be able to run around all he wants. Somehow, these reassuring words don't really help. He wiggles, and whines, and bolts in the direction of said security officers. I'm sweating before we even reach the x-ray machines.

It's our turn to unload the requires items so the machine can scan them and we can clear the metal detector. I manage to get my shoes off (even though I can't really remember how) after I've removed his shoes and my backpack, jacket, and his jacket - and trying to remember my boarding pass to flash at the lady waiting for us at the metal detector. The kind man attending the machine that scans all of these items helped me by taking my laptop out of my backpack for me.

We make it through the metal detector and are deemed safe by TSA. (Do they ever really do a "random" baggage search on parents traveling alone with kids? ) Now, I've got to collect all our belongings, put our shoes back on and find a way to carry everything else and hold on to my son while doing all of these things. I tried sitting him on the bench provided for putting your shoes back on, but he was not in the mood to sit ANYWHERE. Eventually I managed to trap him between my right thigh and right elbow as I finished tying my shoes.

The worst was past us. It would be another hour and a half before our flight left and for the most part it went well -thanks mostly to a play areas for kids that was at the end of the terminal. Our last big challenge occurred as I tried to get us some food to eat before the flight left. My son did not react differently when asked to wait in line (a shorter but slower line) again.
But we did accomplish our goal and were rewarded with our chicken nuggets and fries.

The trip home included more of the same and the added complexity of changing planes in Salt Lake City. As we exited the plane in Salt Lake City I was very hungry and my blood sugar as a little low. Our first order of business was to get food. So, we waited in another line until we had our black bean burrito and them went back to the gate to eat. But my son was not that excited about sitting and eating. He wanted to run around. I didn't really blame him. After sitting in a plane for two hours, walking around sounded great, but mama was desperate for some food. So our little airport picnic involved taking a bite of the burrito and them dashing off to catch my son who was running as fast as he could down the concourse. But that smile he gave me when I would finally catching him...made most of the work worth it.

I'm so very grateful for the opportunity to spend time with my sister and her husband - especially since in a few short months they will have a baby of their own.

What will I do differently next time? Bring another adult. :)

"How's living at your parent's house?"

In the three and a half months that we've been in my parent's house I've been asked this question several times. And my answer usually goes something like this, "It's great!" Sometimes I'm as surprised by my answer as other folks.

All things considered living with my parents has been pretty enjoyable. My folks have pretty good boundaries and are able to let us do what we need to do and they feel free to do what they need to do.

Even my husband doesn't really complain about living here.

There are a couple of things that make living with my folks more time consuming than just living with my husband and my son. First, there are two more people in the house. Relationships take time and since I want to have relationships with my parents I tend to want to sit down and talk with them. Second, we live on the other side of town from our church and most of our close friends. We spend allot of time in the car driving up and down 99E.

Originally we talked with my parents about staying with them for "a couple of months". Now, it looks like we'll be here for about 5 more months. My parents have been nothing but gracious to us. They don't seem at all bothered by how long we might need to stay. They never make us feel ashamed of the fact that we need their help.

In short, living with my parents is a gift. A beautiful, undeserved gift.