Farky, Farky, Farky!

For the last week, we were at my inlaws in Pennsylvania. You can tell by the mountains and lack of green in this photo:



You can also see some of the many wonderful cousins, just one branch of our family tree. Kaden is the little guy in the (can't you tell) black Steelers hoodie, kicking a football in a physics-impossible kind of way. The cute dog in the middle? That is Sparky.

He belongs to Jim's parents, and is about 9 years old. He's darn cute, and a really good dog. He puts up with all the grandkids (up to at least 16 of 'em now). He barks a lot too. He is a superstar, according to Kaden. Whenever we call Grandma and Pop, he wants to talk to Sparky.

To prep for our trip, I made Kaden a little photo book, Monday-Friday, with photos of what we'd do (airplane ride, Hershey's Chocolate World) as well as people he'd see (relatives). We "read" his book over and over, practicing names of people and letting him know what to expect from vacation. I was pretty impressed how quickly he got names, and how often he said them correctly.

Then we arrived. He must've been overwhelmed by all the excitement, because he started mixing up people. And, my favorite part, SParky became Farky. As is, "Farky goes to work" which was really "Sparky's going to bark". or "Shh! Farky sleeping" which is what we said to calm Kaden down as Sparky hid in his happy place behind the chair. Oh, Farky, Farky, Farky.

I'm lucky, or blessed depending on your point of view, because both my birth family and the inlaws are all pretty wonderful people. We have a pretty good time when we're together. My pre-travel worries hinge mostly on us getting sick. It seems to happen every fall trip. Two years ago, my MIL and I ate turkey off paper plates, with a 3 month old Kade balanced on my knee. Everyone else was throwing up. This year, we got off easy. It was only a 12 hour stomach bug, and only 6 of us were hit (as of Saturday am!). We've slept a whole lot since arriving home, and are all getting back to feeling normal now.

What? You missed that we were on vacation all week? Of course! I figured out how to schedule posts ahead of time, thereby limited by screen time at my relatives' house (sometimes a sign of rudeness!). You didn't think I'd tell you, my internet stalkers, that we'd be gone, did you? LOL!

Here's two of the coolest moms in the universe. My opinion might be slightly colored by the fact that I didn't have to clean up much, since they did the lioness' share of the work. That's reason #4503 I love 'em both!

First Flight

Most of you know we live in a different state than most of our family... We wanted to get to Penna so he could see Grandma:


Pal around with the cousin-folk:



and meet new baby cousin Eva, who is about a pound or so more than Kade was at his birth, but somehow seems so much smaller than we remember:

which means sooner or later it had to happen: Kaden's first flight! We had transfers, which means he had FOUR plane rides in a short four day trip. On the first three, he was his usual charming, giggly, friend-making, smiley-eye self. He seemed quite interested in everything. I think this photo captures his wonder and awe, even without his facial expression:

By the last leg of the journey, though, our traveler was no longer impressed with the surroundings. Instead, he wiggled his way between Mom and Dad, and settled in for the return.

The last 75 minutes of the flights, though, clearly had enough activity for all 8 or so hours in the air. He woke, apparently, in order to whine a bit about the exhausting pace we had set. I was sure the full load he was advertising didn't help his situation (or our seat neighbors, for that matter), so he and I headed to the airplane lavatory.

I had read a suggestion on how to change diapers on your lap in those tiny places, and thought I could handle it. This was a bit of an over-estimation on my part. First of all, let's say the diaper was, ah, filled almost to capacity. I folded it over so I could wipe his bum clean... which is when he decided to baptize the water closet. I placed the clean diaper over the stream, thereby neatly deflecting it from the stainless steel counter and sink to my cloth pant leg. Which reminded me that sinks have drains, so we aimed there. When he was finished, I dropped a copius number of paper towels on the floor, and did my best sneaker-assisted cleanup. All while dangling an increasingly less patient, half clothed baby away from me and any walls or hard steel accessories. While looking for a place to gently balance said baby, I discovered that above the closed commode was a very handy, fold down diaper changing station. Yes, indeed.

After cleaning up both the bathroom and the babe as much as I could, we headed back to our seats. Jimdad took one look at Kaden, sporting only a diaper, a runny nose and a half hearted smile, and asked what happened. I quietly explained that he peed all over himself, saving the compound direct objects (my leg, the bathroom) for later conversation. Another mom bouncing her 6 month old stopped by. "Time for your costume change, huh?" We had discussed her daughter Amelia's timing and various outfits earlier. I smiled and said yes, trying very hard not to draw attention to my naked babe, in case either he or my undercover leg smelled. At which point, one of the grandparents seated in front of us said to another "I'm SO glad we're past that stage!" to quiet laughter and agreement all around.

So we get the now crying babe into his clean onesie, and feed him a few "melt-in-their-mouth rice crisps." Only one piece decides not to melt so much, and he gags. My lightning quick, if not overeager and misplaced, reaction is to do a finger sweep... and his almost-as-quick reaction is to gag again and then spit up ALL the rice crisps into my mouth. At which point the grandmother sitting across the aisle from us says, "At least he did warn you" to another round of quiet laughter.

We head to the lav AGAIN, making the very uptight stewardesses suspect us of drug trafficking, because why ELSE would a woman and a smallish child be up and down the aisle so often? But this time, I am somewhat prepared, and manage to hold the baby and open/close/lock the door with one hand & elbow, since the other is still holding the spit up in a bib. We make liberal use of the fold down changing station immediately, and I re-wash my son with non-potable water and try to keep him from sucking it off his hands for fun.

We head back to our seats- me with disheveled hair, a pee stained left leg, and very little patience; he with clear snot running into clear drool, all mixing onto a rice-crisp-upchuck-stained onesie. I am the parent I thought we'd never be, deciding that 30 minutes of descent isn't worth any more cleaning and crying. Instead, Jimdad and I pull out every funny face, favorite song and small-movement we can think of, entertaining our overtired little boy until the plane lands and we half dance our way to baggage claim.

Five hours later, after much more cleaning and crying, fussing and distracting and cuddling, the babe is asleep and we can re-tell the story with as much entertainment as our seatmates.

Not that we're rushing to book the next flight or anything. Happy travels to all this week!