Monday, June 1, 2015

reunioning part1

If part 1 sounds ominously like it could be leading to a trilogy of vacation post...chances are it's exactly that. Woot woot! Let's call part 1: anatomy of flying with children. And in the name of brevity, I'm combing all the airport/flying/traveling into one post. Thank your lucky stars. 

Boulder Colorado was the destination for the family reunion of 2015. Because of Beck's wee-ness, Jake's job and that is was a reunion for my side of la familia, it made the most sense for me and the older boys to leave on the jet plane. 


^^^ Mr. Worldwide and Linus do the airport. 

One of these days I'll have to dedicate a full post to Airport Julia because Airport Julia is a TREAT. She missed a flight once (again, one time) and is sufficiently scarred and will never ever ever risk missing a flight ever again - a post for another time. For now let's say that nothing brings out the nervous in me like an airport and security lines and if I had a dime for every time I thought, "where is my boarding pass?!"...when it is sitting in my right hand...right where I left it 0.3 seconds ago...I could treat you to a gourmet soda. So we were a fun bunch to usher through security with the stroller and the liquids that had to be tested and the boys shoes which they insisted on removing and and and and AND...I don't know how we all didn't just crumple up and cry sweet relief when we reached the gate because one round of security was enough fun for a lifetime.

The (blessed, always polite to my brood) security guards guessed that Rad was "3 or 4?" and tried to have a full on conversation with him. The hefty 26 month old mute responded by securing the security badge sticker they presented him on his mom's crotch and we just politely/embarrassingly laughed and went on our harried way. 

^^^ Rad saw the planes and kept yelling "tires! tires!" his newest word that he likes to toss around like it's no big deal. 

^^^ Rhett stepped up to being the man of the trip and graciously toted one of the three oversized backpacks his momma thought were necessary to take on the plane.

The Denver airport was full of the boys usual favorite amusement park ride...the escalator. I want you to notice the use of the word "usual" because up till this point both of them have been more than happy to go up and down on repeat, but Rhett thought it was prime time to develop a substantial fear of heights and subsequently escalators. (Right in the middle of a rush of travelers, with his single parent, toddler brother, and the 3 heavy backpacks. Love you sweetie.)  This is probably a "had to be there to believe it" story of Rhett deciding that...nope... this escalator business was not for him...but it was way too late. The rush of fellow riders and my already stretched nerves led to a less than proud moment on my part of grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him onto the escalator, riding boots up and head down until some strangers freaked, yelled panicked obscenities, and carried Mr. Fickle down the rest of the escalating stairs because my hands were tied with the stroller, stupid backpacks and Rad was already almost to the bottom looking at us like we all were crazy because he is a lover of the 'lator.    


^^^ The post escalator fiasco portrait. Rhett was still ticked (don't blame him at all) and even a ride on the cool tram didn't appease his wounded soul. (We did have a good talk and I apologized profusely for my poor choice and so far there hasn't been any indication of therapy needed in later years...) 


^^^ I'd like to give this picture the hashtag #allthewomenwhoindependant because I felt like a freaking rockstar for getting to this point. And I did throw my hands up thank you very much.


^^^ The rental car company was way way off site from the airport so a bus ride made the whole day primo for Rad. 


^^^ Until he got out of the bus and realized that it was literally 40 degrees cooler than his native land. Enter his babushka moment. 


^^^ But after all that...we made it. (The reality of all we had gone through was just starting to dawn on Rad...) Aaaaaaaand with a hop and a skip we were off like a herd of bobcats because we were living the highest life. Until Rhett pulled a, "Oops! I guess I forgot to get ALL my potty out" stunt two minutes after we pulled onto the Interstate, less then 10 minutes after his first installation of getting the fluid out.


^^^ The return trip through the airport was much more uneventful thanks to the discovery of elevators (not escalators!). And Rad was in his element with the moving sidewalks. I like to call this picture "Everyone in the terminal does not think this moment is as cute as you do or love the excessively loud shouts of joy your child is making. "


^^^ And Rhett spent the who flight home just like this. Crick in his neck be darned.

Jake greeted us at the airport with Beck and Rad's first jumbled sentence was "Daddeee?! Mom. Cwry." Followed by "Daddeee?! Twrain gooo!" Both sentences were repeated the whole baggage claim experience and drive home. So glad those where is top memories. 

After this trip I solemnly swear that I am not leaving the house for an extended period of time until Jake can accompany me and we find airports that don't have escalators.

Part 2 coming right up! Soon-ish. It takes awhile to go through hundreds of vacation pictures. (No joke...I was just shy of a camera happy tourist.) Pin It

4 comments:

  1. We had an escalator mishap in the Atlanta Airport two years ago. My daughter refused to get on at the last minute and stood at the top screaming while her brother, sister, and I were going down. Thankfully, a kind stranger held her hand and brought her down. Then her brother, who was only 2, kept asking me how high we were (and trembling like crazy). He pretty much chanted that we were only "a little high", trying to keep himself calm. Flying alone with them was certainly an adventure!

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