12 hours of travel…

…and we made it, unscathed! Friday was a LONG day and Mattix impressed the heck out me, my mom, and just about everyone on the plane! My parents picked us up at 6:30 a.m. b/c my dad has some serious personal issues about getting to the airport early, even though he was just dropping us off. Mattix had woken up at 5:30 because he must have heard me tearing around the house, trying to get all of the last minute things together. I was a little tired, as I had only slept for two and a half hours, but we were ready. So our day officially started at 6:30 and by the time we made it to our apartment in DC, it was 7:30 p.m. Wow, long day.

Mattix was a little antsy in the airport. I packed a crap load of stuff for the both of us. Traveling with a baby requires lots of stuff, especially in the winter when you’re going to an insanely cold place (to me, anything below 50 is insanely cold). However, with curbside check-in and some seriously creative juggling, we made it through security and to the terminal, where we learned out flight was delayed by almost two hours. I wasn’t pleased, as Mattix wasn’t really enjoying just hanging around. We ate breakfast, and that’s when I nearly had a meltdown. I was digging through his diaper bag, trying to find a spoon, when I felt something damp. I was trying to figure out what could have spilled when I realized it was the worst thing possible. I had transferred some Benadryl from the giant Costco sized bottle from home, which I didn’t think security would let slide, into a really small Tupperware container. After vigorously shaking it, I had decided it wouldn’t leak. Keeping in line with my current trend, I was all sorts of wrong. Every last drop of the baby Benadryl was pooled in the bottom of my BRAND NEW Coach diaper bag. Literally, I had just cut the tags off the night before. After I got through the horror of the giant red stain on the pretty blue sating lining, the real horror set in: we were going to board at 4.5 hour flight with NO Benadryl. Holy crap. I ran across the terminal into the airport store, praying the whole way that I wasn’t the only terrible mommy. Turn out I must be, because the only baby drug they sell in there is Tylenol.

 I dragged myself back to my mom and Mattix, near tears. Okay, so I had only gotten 2.5 hours of sleep the night before, and maybe I was a little unstable, but oh my gosh. And even though Benadryl doesn’t knock him out at all, it does take the hyperactive edge off, so I was sure this was a catastrophe. Eventually our late flight came in and we boarded. Mattix doesn’t mind sitting on our laps (unlike when we were first together), but he’s super, super active and antsy. He was all over my mom and I for the first 15 or 20 minutes. Because I had so much crap to lug around, I had checked the car seat. I was really starting to regret that when my mom suggested I just buckle him into the seat. So I did. And wow. That’s all I can say.

Mattix has gotten to the point of accepting defeat. It seems that when he is strapped into his car seat or a high chair at a restaurant, he has come to accept the fact that he ain’t goin’ nowhere no matter how much he protests or squirms, so there’s really no point. See what I mean? He has accepted defeat. So when we buckled him into the seat, I guess he just assumed it was like the car seat. He was AMAZING. Honestly, completely and totally amazing. He spent the first two hours playing with the toys I had brought, empty “snack pack” boxes, the airplane magazines, empty coffee cups, and whatever else we could find to hand him. Then he got a little fussy, so my mom folded up her jacket and I fed him a bottle of juice (he was so over his formula). He passed out cold against the side of the seat. An HOUR later, he woke up in a wonderful mood. We gave him a few snacks and more toys, and he was just a little bundle of calm happiness. We didn’t unbuckle him until after we landed. I kid you not.

(By the way, I just want to ask, “What the hell?” The airlines handed out “snack packs” to grown adults that each contained a 100 calorie pack of little Chips Ahoy cookie chips, some sort of mystery meat stick, and a pack of the cracker sticks and processed cheese garbagethat we used to beg my mom for as children (back when they were actual crackers and the packs each contained some sort of redish plastic stick to spread the faux cheese). I mean, come on. What the heck has become of the airlines in the United States? In Vietnam, on our less-than-two-hour flight from Saigon to Hanoi, we were served full meals and red wine. On a 4.5 hour flight across the U.S., they give us a box of processed snacks? Again, here I go with the food, I know, but seriously. And although they intended for these to be for adults, Mattix hit the jackpot! We don’t really give him junk food and I while certainly didn’t give him the mystery meat sticks, he lucked out with the cracker sticks. I let him taste the “cheese” but he wasn’t a fan. Even a one year old isn’t on board with the processed cheese.  He ate all of the cracker sticks from both packages during the flight and later on, during the long shuttle ride, the kid ate an entire package of Chips Ahoy 100 calorie cookies. Listen, a jar of baby food has about 100 calories and 20 grams of carbs, and so did the cookies…yeah, I know, but I’m grasping at straws here.)

Anyway, like I said, he was amazing. The flight attendants kept commenting on what a great little passenger he was, and the people in the rows around us were impressed. Seriously. Remember how I always say I have no expectations? Well, I must be a liar because I expected this to be one long, difficult flight. My mom was obviously a little worried for us, because she admitted that half of the reason she came with us was for the flight. She was worried for us. I honestly almost cried when I found the empty Benadryl container, but life is full of lessons and my lesson on Friday was obviously that I need to relax.

So our long day was going very smoothly and I was all sorts of pleased when IT happened. By it, I mean the incident wherein I nearly punched a man in the face while holding my son. I’ve mentioned that I’m self sufficient, right? ‘Cause I am. I’m very self sufficient. I’m not one of those girls who sits there and expects men to open doors for me, let me walk out of the elevator first, etc. Now, I think that’s nice and if your mom raised ya right, you do that stuff. But if you don’t, you don’t. I can open my own door and I won’t hold it against you. HOWEVER, if you’re a dude, you sure as hell don’t tell two women and a baby to climb their asses to the back of a shuttle bus, period. The shuttle drier was loading our luggage into the back of the van, my mom was holding Mattix, and I jumped in to strap Mattix’s car seat into the shuttle. Okay, I’m dealing with a car seat and a baby. Do you think I climbed back to the fourth row of seats? Of course not. I have no sense of entitlement in life whatsoever, but I feel like there are some situations where it’s not that big of a deal for me to take a liberty such as, oh, I don’t know, choosing the first row of seats in the shuttle van. I’m not selfish about it – trust me. Ask my friend Karen. During our entire time in VN, Ed and I always voluntarily  climbed into the second row in our agency’s van because we’re shorter than they are, Ed’s the size of a 15 year old girl, and we had a lot of luck with avoiding motion sickness. Karen and Andrew were always so nice and always asked if we wanted the front, but we didn’t mind at all. HOWEVER, when you’re dealing with a giant shuttle van, one man, one woman, and the three of us (my mom, Mattix, and me), is it THAT big of a deal that I climbed into the front row so that I could have some room to install the car seat? Really? Is it?

I know I’m dwelling on this, but I just want to know, because what happened next quite frankly shocked me. The man looked at me, frantically trying to get the car seat in ASAP so that we didn’t hold up the shuttle, and said this:

“Where are you guys getting off?”

I told him the address, because I have no idea where that actually is.

Then he asked the woman where she was getting off, and she told him.

And he said this to me, while I was still strapping in the car seat: “Well, then you should sit in the back because I’m the first stop.”

WTF? Seriously, WTF? First of all, it doesn’t effing matter because there were FOUR rows of seats and you don’t have to climb over anyone to get out because you can get out of each row without anyone needing to move.

And second, WTF? Even if you DID have to climb over someone, which you don’t, would you really say that to two women with a baby? Would you? If you would, I think you’re a piece of crap, so I guess you shouldn’t admit it here. Sorry, but I do. I don’t anger too easily these days, as I’ve worked hard for years to get that temper of mine under control, but I could feel my blood starting to boil. He was staring at me, seriously waiting for me to move. Honestly, he expected me to unstrap my car seat, climb out, let him into the front row, and climb my ass to the back.

So I looked at him and said, “No, actually, I absolutely will not move. I’m not going to unstrap this car seat, climb to the back, and attempt to safely install it back there where there’s not enough room for me to do that, then climb back there with the baby.”

Okay, it gets worse. He said, “Well why don’t you just throw it in the back with the luggage then?”

That’s when I almost punched him. Really. I had to stop myself because for the first time in my life, it truly occurred to me to actually punch someone in the face. I joke about punching people in the face (I know, it’s probably not funny, but it makes me snicker), but I’ve never truly considered it. On Friday, though, I did. I thought I might physically injure this ass hat. However, being a mom, I decided that I didn’t want to go to jail. Plus, an arrest wouldn’t look good for a second adoption, so instead, I said, “Um, because I’m not going to throw the baby in the back with the luggage.”

And he said, “Oh, I guess not. Right. Well, we didn’t have those contraptions when I was a kid and we all turned out fine. Humph”

To which I responded, “That’s debatable, but if by fine you mean you lived, then I suppose you should be grateful for your good fortune.” And if looks could kill, he would have died on the spot. I gave him the dirtiest look I’ve ever given anyone. I put Mattix’s famous stink eye to shame. I think I gave myself a headache with my dirty look.

So he shut up and sat down. I got the car seat installed and my mom handed Mattix to me so I could strap him in. He’s truly a champ in the car seat. The traffic was horrible and there were a few protests going on, so it took nearly an hour and a half to get there, but he was a trooper. The bag of 100 calorie cookies made it work, but hey, I’m not complaining. Those were Mattix’s first cookies and he LOVED them. The best part is that he smelled like cookes all night. I loved it. My adorable baby smelled like sweet cookies.

Back to the jerk. Because I can’t let anything go, about halfway into the ride, I said loudly to my mom, “Can you imagine if Dad did that? If Dad told two women with a baby to climb to the back of a shuttle van?” My mom said, “Of course not. Your father would never do that.” Exactly. This man was my dad’s age, give or take a year or two (mid-50’s), and I would fall over dead if someone told me my father did something like that. And my dad’s not one of those men who trips over himself for anything, but he’s a real man and real men don’t tell women with a baby to climb to the back of a shuttle bus. My dad would offer to help if he could. And Ed’s a great guy. He knows how capable I am. He knows how capable most women are. But he’s a great guy and he opens doors, holds elevators, and puts luggage in the overhead storage bin for women who are alone and struggling. He would NEVER, EVER, in a million years, EVER tell a woman with a baby to climb to the back because his stop was first. Ever. He would insist on sitting in the back. Hell, I would insist on sitting in the back if I were alone and someone had a baby. I always have. I do that stuff.  If this man were disabled in some sort of way, it would have been an entirely different story, although if that were the case, he could have sat in the front seat. But we’re talking about a perfectly able-bodied man in his mid-50’s.

Anyway, I’m trying to get over it, but in all of my life, I’ve never, ever had someone act so rudely towards me. If you can’t tell, it truly shocked the hell out of me.  Okay, moving on….

Ed met us downstairs and if you could have seen Mattix’s face when he first saw Ed, you would have felt all warm and fuzzy like I did. Mattix screeched with delight, reached out for Ed, and proceeded to bounce up and down in his arms for a few minuets. He grabbed Ed’s face about 50 times and have him hug after hug after hug. He was SO happy. Of course Ed felt like the most important person on earth because somehow, your kids have that effect on you, don’t they? They can make your entire day with one little smile, one little gesture. That boy was happy.

He slept in bed with us and did quite well. I have to admit that I loved it. I woke up several times and just looked at him, all curled up on his side. I love him so much and seeing him sleep well after some really rough nights made me feel great. He didn’t go to sleep until 11:00 because it was technically 9:00 p.m. for us and although that’s an hour and a half past his bedtime, it was a busy day. He was out like a light until about 3:00, then he started his usual whimpering routine, but we made it through just fine. I was worried about him adapting to his surroundings, but those concerns were completely unfounded. Mattix is doing wonderfully here. He’s back to his extremely happy, outgoing self, loving every minute of exploring this new place.

 

His pajama top says, “Future Mr. Right.” Too cute, huh?

I finally caught Mattix loving on his Glow Worm!

The past two days have been lots of fun. We’ve been exploring DC and the surrounding areas. On our way back yesterday, Ed insisted we stop at Friendly’s for dinner. I’ve never been, but he said he used to go all the time as a child. Huh. After I ate the world’s greasiest food, I told him I thought it tasted like a Denny’s, except that I used to only eat in Denny’s after late nights of drinking and partying when I was younger. I thought he might cry. I will admit that the Reese’s sunday was delicious, though!

 

We gave Mattix a piece of a pickle. Apparently, he wasn’t a fan

Today we drove to Annapolis. It was really neat to see and I’m loving being here. I appreciate this opportunity to see part of the country so full of history. However, I still want to know how anyone lives in this kind of cold! It was soooo cold today!

I wasn’t sure whether Mattix had frozen to death or whether he was sleeping here:

Inspired by my BB Kerryanne, I made a feeble attempt to take a neat picture. She has as much talent in her pinky finger as I do in my whole body!

I think Ed could totally live here and feel like a grown up. Some of the houses are so neat and old and the doors are itty bitty tiny! Ed actually looks tall compared to this one:

A few more random photos:

 

You would die if I told you where Mattix is sleeping right now. And he’s sleeping better than he ever does at home! I promise not to overdo it with the pictures anymore. Hope everyone has a great Monday!