Travel log, 7.17.11

I'm facing a bit of technical difficulty/laziness in uploading the majority of my photos right now, but rest assured, there are plenty, and they are super cute. So for now, you get another "random observations about my life and traveling" post. This also means you'll get a few posts full of pictures whenever I'm able to upload everything.

You're welcome.

* * *

Dear Mom and Dad,
I know we had a talk earlier about getting central air, but I just wanted to make sure you remembered it.
Love,
Your daughter who has no idea how she lived without it for the majority of the first 25 years of her life.

* * *

After my day 'o travel with Elle, I was nostalgic for the time when I was the young woman on a layover carrying one bag, one latte and one paperback book or magazine to read while tucked away in an area near my gate. Instead, I had one stroller, one baby and one uber large bag with contents unknown trying to let her daughter expend every last inch of energy before boarding the plane. I'm thankful for Elle, but I have a new appreciation for the days when my biggest concern was vanilla latte or caramel macchiato.

* * * 

I should be pumping right now. But I'm not! It's the end of my end-of-the-night pumping session. Last night was the last one I plan on doing. When I return to work, I'll continue the once-a-shift pumping schedule until the end of the month, and then I'll gradually phase that one out, too. (Hi. I'm slightly excited about this.)

* * *

Elle is usually a pretty, um, "regular" baby. But for the two days before we left Florida, we had very little action on the bowel front. I was terrified that she'd unleash a fury of digestive activity on the plane and leave solo travelin' mama with all of the fun. Alas, little girl waited until the next day to work on things, and life is good again. (Thank you, sweet baby.)

* * * 

The cleaning of my old closet did commence, and I found some super funny stuff. If the National Scrunchy Society is looking for donations, I'm alllll over that. And apparently I went through quite a beading phase in middle and/or high school. My apologies to Belinda Carlisle and Paula Abdul, as well as all of the super cool mixed tapes that bit the dust in the cleanse. But hooray! I found three of my old Barbies and my two-legged Ken doll (What? You didn't have a one-legged Ken doll that didn't survive adolescence?!) as well as some accessories that I can pass on to Elle.

* * *

The weather in Ohio was glorious when we arrived. Warm, but not too hot, and warm, but not humid. (These things are big for me.) On Thursday morning, I headed out for a run in my childhood neighborhood. I mentally planned out my route, including my warm up, and set off after Elle was down for her morning nap. My mentally proposed warm up went by in a flash - it seems my old neighborhood is a lot smaller than I remember it. That meant I had to rethink the rest of my run, too, but it was weird being back in the old 'hood as a 30-year-old runner, as opposed to the child or teenager who walked it or biked to and from friends' houses. I saw houses for sale, houses that have been remodeled and houses that no longer belong to people I know. I didn't start running until a few years ago, so pounding the pavement here was a totally different experience, and it took me back down memory lane a bit. Tim and I went out for a run yesterday morning, and that one struck me because it was a) the first time we've really worked out together in almost a year (since the day before Elle was born, really) and b) a chance to voice to him all of the differences that exist between my "then" and the neighborhood's "now."

* * * 

Tim and I came home from a wedding last night and headed to bed soon after. Elle is bunking in a pack-n-play in the same room as us, and apparently we caught her mid-sleep cycle because she started to stir. We tried to silently peel back the covers and crawl in to bed without a sound, but it didn't work. She KNEW we were there, and she was awake and wanted to party. We got her to quiet down and steered back toward Dreamland ... but about 35 minutes later, after I thought she had long been asleep, she had a two-minute conversation with herself that consisted of repeated strains of: "Giggle giggle. *haha* Giggle. Whee be doo beeeeee. Giggle. *ha*." It was hard not to laugh, or even turn to Tim and say, "What the heck?!" But I didn't dare chance engaging her.

Travel log, 7.13.11

Yesterday I sent this text to a close friend: "Remind me to tell you about the time I accidentally called a sex hotline from a work phone."

To give background on how my standard Tuesday turned in to potentially disastrous chaos, I will tell you that I was checking in for a flight online. I was reviewing baggage policies, because when you travel with an infant, you basically bring half a condo's worth of stuff, and with baggage fees the way they are, there's no way I was going to get blind-sided with an unexpected fee.

The particular airline that we're flying made it harder than necessary to find the policy on baby gear, but finally I found information: Car seats and strollers checked free of charge, portable cribs and other gear treated like additional baggage.

Lamesauce.

But I wanted to call and make sure that was a current policy - I like to be silly and think that people can be nice sometimes and do things that you might not expect, like expand their baby gear policies when other airlines are raising their checked bags fees or are starting to charge for carry ons and such.

So I went in to our department's conference room and dialed the number I had found for AirTran.

It was sooooo not AirTran. I'll leave the rest to your imaginations, but the first words were, "Hey there, sexy man, hold on the line until one of our operators can answer ..."

Eek. Turns out the REAL AirTran phone number is just two digits off of the one I had originally found, but those digits are uber important, especially when you are trying to make a legitimate phone call from a work phone. Oopsie.

(And FYI, policy is up to date - portable cribs are treated like like an additional piece of checked baggage.)

* * *

I was talking to my mom yesterday about our travel plans and accommodations while we're in town. She was telling me about all of the clutter that apparently is driving her nuts in the rooms that my siblings and I occupied when we were living at home.

Essentially, she told me that while I was visiting home, I was going to have to clean my room.

* * *

Traveling by myself with Elle is exhausting. I honestly don't know if I'll do it again. 

We were over traveling before we even boarded for our second flight.
And I like to send Tim photos of our adventures when he can't be with us :)

She's a good traveler, but heck, I wasn't looking forward to the car ride to the airport, the flight, the layover, the other flight and final arrival at my parents' house. I can't imagine being wee little and full of energy and getting shuttled around during all of that when all you want is milk, your toys, your crib and your crawling space.

 I'm not above bribing her with food in situations like this, but thankfully, it didn't come to that. She slept for the entire first flight, was a bit impatient during our layover when I wouldn't let her crawl in to the crowds of people who barely look in front of them - never mind below them, and slept for 25 minutes of our last flight and then spent the remainder of the time charming our fellow travelers.

Eating lunch on our layover.

But it's the mere fact that I've got to be "on" the whole time - if I don't bring my 'A' game, we're sunk. When she woke up less than halfway in to our second flight, I had to devise ways to distract her and pace myself so I wouldn't run out of material before the plane landed. All this on three and a half hours of sleep and a temporary numbness on my left side from hauling all of our gear while pushing the stroller up and down the terminal for our three hour layover. (I thought lunch would take longer. It felt like it took longer. But apparently that was only 20 minutes of our layover. GAH.)

It's not any more fun, but it's such a relief to know there's shared responsibility and another option when Tim travels with us (like he will be on our return flight). You know, because then there's an extra lap to pass her off on instead of just my boring, tired one.

* * *

Watching Elle sleep during the first flight took me back to her newborn days. I wish I had been able to reach my phone or camera (or been traveling with someone, say, my husband, who could have done it for me) to take photos of her little lips pouted crookedly and smashed in to my shoulder. Or her "eating in her sleep" movements. Or to merely document how absolutely OUT she was - there was no noise and no movement that could wake her up until soon after we had arrived at our gate.

I tried to memorize the curves of her face, her peaceful expression and her chubby little cheeks, because Baby Girl is almost ONE. This kind of stuff doesn't happen every day anymore. 

* * *

I feel like I'm being scrutinized when I'm in situations with masses of people, like an airport. Am I engaging my child enough for people? Am I one of "those people" who is annoying because I talk to my kid constantly? ("What do you want for lunch, Elle?" or a strategic "Oh, you're so tired - you're going to conk out as soon as we get in the air, aren't you?" in front of worried-looking fellow passengers. P.S. She did.) Am I letting her crawl around on floors that no child should be caught crawling on? Am I encouraging her to play nice with other littles who are running around the airport and stop by to look at her toys? Do I practice proper diaper changing etiquette in the large restrooms that my child HATES?

And then I realize I don't care. It's my kid, my beliefs, my diaper changing routine, and I'll never see these people again. It's an airport, not an institution of child development and infant manners, and my child is pretty freaking happy considering she's been stuck around all of those judgmental people and her wacky, tired mama all day, and I'll take that over someone's approval any day.

* * *

The airport setting turned out to be Elle's worst nightmare. Hundreds of people, both big and small, scurrying around her, and yet ONLY A HANDFUL PAID ATTENTION TO HER. From what I could see behind the stroller, she was putting on quite a performance: Waves, coy smiles, flexibility demonstrations, nomming on toe tricks and general babbling. Yet even the people who gave her a return smile or remarked "look at that cute baby" were gone in a flash, swallowed up by their connecting flight or mission to baggage claim.

Poor baby. 

The day of travel finally ended and Elle got some much-deserved fresh air and space.
Tim responded to this photo with a "Get her inside!!! Mountain lion!!!" text, haha.

And finally, The Good.

My little brother Doug tells me he's sorry I've had such a rough time in Florida. When Tim and I went out of town for my best friend's wedding last weekend, I figured the bad luck would follow me. Apparently, though, I'm not as fortune-challenged (although I am directionally impaired) in Arizona. There had been some uncertainty as to whether Tim would be able to come at all, come for the whole trip, travel with me, etc. because of changes at his paper. We'd booked our flights in March, and since then, the Herald has lost a lot of staffers and gone through a lot of changes and training. But alas, he was able to work it out so he could fly with me and not have to leave Phoenix early.

Tim and I flew out of Tampa on Friday morning (Sept. 26). We had a long layover in Atlanta, which turned out to be a good thing because it took forever to get lunch. Tim said I wasn't any fun to travel with - apparently I slept a *bit* that day on the plane and in airport chairs (OK, maybe like 7 hours, but I was hopped up - down? - on Dramamine). But the flights were uneventful. We sat near a group of 42 senior citizens on our flight to Phoenix - they argued for a good 30 minutes about the time change. I wanted to turn around and explain how it worked to them, but I slept instead. They also chatted about their friend's flu shot ("She had a reaction?" "Is she OK?" "I thought they were supposed to make you healthy, not sick!") and I was more than ready to be away from them when we arrived at 5 p.m., Phoenix time. We got our rental car and were on our way!

Only we had one problem - I had printed directions to every place we needed to go that weekend EXCEPT from the airport to the hotel. So we got a litttttllllleeeee lost. And then we had to stop and ask for directions. But eventually, we made it to our hotel, where we found out they didn't have a reservation for us (we found out later that they did but it was grossly misspelled). We got a room, though, and showered and headed out for dinner. Meg had recommended a yummy Mexican restaurant in Tempe. The food was soooooo good. We sampled the "best chips and salsa in the Valley" and ate a ton of good food. Then we had some deep fried ice cream - SO GOOD. We headed to downtown Phoneix - and because of construction, we got lost :-) We *did* get to drive by Chase Field while the D'backs were playing a game, and that was pretty cool. Then we met up with Meg, Mike and Mike's sister, Erica, for some drinks. It was great to see Meg and Mike again - I hadn't seen them since March, and Tim hadn't seen them since Memorial Day weekend of last year. Mike's college friends came out, and suddenly we were surrounded by Nittany Lions. We stayed out for a while but were getting tired, so we headed back to the hotel and crashed. (Side note - while we were out west, the Rays clinched the AL East, and they did it at the worst possible time for the Tampa area newspapers. But in Phoenix, it was still early enough that it was manageable. Either way, Tim and I were grateful that we weren't working that night!)

On Saturday morning, I met up with Erica in the hotel lobby and Meghan's mom and dad picked us up. We headed over to Meghan and Mike's condo, and then we were off to the hair salon with Meg to get wedding hair for Meghan and Erica. When they were done, Meg's mom and dad dropped me back off at the hotel, and Tim and I went to get some lunch. Tim wanted to drive In-N-Out Burger, a West Coast staple.



Then we lounged by the hotel pool for a bit before getting ready for the wedding. The ceremony and reception were held here, and it was gorgeous. It wasn't too hot, it was right before sunset, and the desert wildlife was a beautiful backdrop to the wedding. I was extremely emotional and Tim had to keep asking me if I was OK while he videotaped the ceremony.



During the cocktail hour, a storm nearly blew in and drenched everyone, but the rain held off and we were only left with some strong winds. Meg and Mike had a small ceremony and reception with close friends and family, and it was a good-sized crowd for mingling and celebrating with the newlyweds.



There was much eating, dancing and fun, and then it was time to go - which means that the next wedding that Tim and I will go to will be ... OUR OWN!



We went back to the hotel and crashed again. The next morning, we watched football - at 10 a.m.! craziness! - and then headed to a cool little restaurant near the Arizona State campus for a post-wedding brunch. The food was DELICIOUS. They had muffins that were absolutely amazing. We got to spend a little more time with Meg and Mike and the Penn State crew, and then, sadly, we had to leave to get to the airport.

We returned our rental car, said goodbye to the cacti and waited for our flight. We had another layover in Atlanta, but it was really short, and we were on our way again, back to Tampa. We landed around midnight and headed home.

It was quick weekend, but it was awesome to be able to be there for Meg and Mike's wedding and see them all three days we were in town. Tim had never been to Arizona, and the weather was really nice. I've had some rough days at work lately, and Tim had worked 16 days in a row, so we were both ready for a long weekend away. And we get to see Meg and Mike again soon! - at our wedding :-) They are currently on their honeymoon in Cabo, lucky jerks :-)

-Kristin