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Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Leaving on a jet plane... never again.

It's a great feeling when your child stops sounding like Wheezy the Penguin from Toy Story. That’s exactly what Evelyn has resembled since mid-last-week. 
















What started out as a little cold and a runny nose turned into full-blown-coughing-her-lungs-up-barely-able-to-breathe-up-all-night-Sunday-morning-doctor's-appointment-bronciolitis. But, like the champ she is, after a few days of antibiotics for the nasty snotty nose and some breathing treatments, the kid is on the mend.
















Matt unpacked our luggage last night which thankfully made it safely home.  I passed out on the couch waking up just long enough to stumble into bed.  What a week it's been.
 
Want to know what I'll never do again?  Take a roll-along carry on luggage bag, a carry on duffel bag, a diaper bag, and an infant on a plane trip… alone. What was I thinking. I realized the moment that I walked… no ran like mad… into the airport that I had forgotten my 3 other arms needed to complete this task by myself laying by the door where I thought I wouldn't forget them.  Sheesh.























A  flight attendant almost lost his head when I approached him asking for help with my luggage as my daughter, who, at this point was lovingly trying to undress me by pulling my shirt off my shoulder as she hung on my hip and covered my arm with massive amounts of spit up while I toted enough luggage to last me a week in the Arctic, just in case, sweat rolling down my cheeks, hair covering my eyes, only to have him tell me that he could not help me. There was a little crazy in my eye right before a lovely flight attendant jumped in to ask if she could take my roll along to be checked. Then told me my daughter was the prettiest baby she'd ever seen.























Sir, she and the fact that I didn't have a free hand, saved you.























Believe it or not, once on the plane, everything was great. Evelyn slept most of the way and when she was up, she occupied her time by looking out the window, chewing on her toys, and smacking the man beside me while sticking her tongue out and raspberry-ing all over his neatly pressed shirt.
















And besides being stranded in Detroit, spending fifty dollars on crappy airport food, and losing our luggage, the trip back was much more pleasant with my husband to carry the load.























In fact, while on the plane Evelyn decided to add to her vast vocabulary consisting of "momma" and "oh."























While resting against Matt's chest she looked up and whispered "Dada."

"Did you hear that?" he said.

I had half a mind to say no, just to mess with him and be mean. But I didn't. Those are the moments as parents you wait eagerly for. First smile. First word. First step.  Plus she had already said Mama first so I had no reason to be jealous and pretend it didn't happen.


Unfortunately, I didn't realize Evelyn was saying "Mama" until my mom pointed it out. Maybe it's because she only says it when she is upset and screaming at the top of her lungs, red faced, wanting to be held. At that point I'm usually not worried about what's coming out of her mouth as much as making it stop. But as my mom held her tired little body she babbled on "Mama… Mmmm-Mama" while passing me the please-hold-me-mommy look.

"She's saying Mama, Kelly."

"Is she?"

"Don't you hear it?"

"Hah! I guess she is. Hey Matt… *snickers to self*... Guess what!"
















The night she first said Mama I walked into the living room to see Matt face to face with our daughter repeatedly asking her to say Dada and her smiling back at him like he's telling her a really good joke rather than pleading for her to utter his name.

So after hearing her say it to him on the plane I leaned over and said "Evie, say Dada."  And just as proud as she could be, she squealed out a high pitch "Da Da!" and then they both beamed with happiness.























So while the flying with child experience lacks the appeal for me to ever want to do it again, Evelyn learning a new word, learning to wave Bye Bye (usually to herself), and watching her dump a huge glass of Coke onto her daddy's lap in the middle of the airport certainly made the miserableness of it all, a little more tolerable.


And we realize now that our child has Go-Go-Gadget arms and amazing aim. I mean, she's dead on.



The purple hat featured in this post that Evelyn is wearing can be found here: Mel's Bells Kids. Melissa makes a variety of items for kids and adults including hats and booties. You'll be seeing more of her items in future posts. Her items are well crafted and beautiful and the wide selection in her Etsy shop is sure to meet most every ones tastes.

3 comments:

Jamie said...

OMG what at trip! That flight attendant must have been a mom too and recognized the death stare ;)

Kari said...

Sounds like quite a trip. At least you're home now and she's better. XOXO

Shan said...

Lots of wonder and merriment in this post... but I'm stopping in to say I love your hair!

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