So, I blogged a while ago about my struggles with my weight, and my internal efforts to fix ma-self. Along with some external things to help. Well, here's an update.
The short of it? I've lost 17 pounds in the past 2 months! Woot! I have pants that aren't fitting anymore (even though I wear them anyway, 'cause it makes me grin when I have to pull them up. So what if I have droopy drawers for a while?). And, more importantly, I have pants that are fitting again! I've lost an overall 5+ inches. I just wish that more of the 5 had been in my boobs, but oh, well... I guess that will follow. Or, at least, I hope it will. As a typical example of "the grass is always greener", I wish my boobs were smaller. My husband does not share my opinion, shockingly enough.
Anyway... all this is because of an amazing woman I met in December, at a random direct marketing event. You know the type - a home party thingy, but this one had 5 or 6 distributors. (My favorite was the chocolate lady!) So, this lady is a nutritionist and personal trainer, and she came up with an amazing program that doesn't just focus on one or 2 aspects of health, but ALL of them. I'd tell you more, but the program is in it's pilot state, and I promised I wouldn't let the cat out of the bag. What I will tell you is that this is like nothing I have ever done. I have an understanding of myself and my body and it's needs that I've never had before. For the first time in my recent memory... I know to the core of my being that this is no longer a big deal, and I can do this.
So, by this summer, I should be able to go to the pool with my kiddo without feeling so self-conscious! Yay! Stay tuned... I might even give you my weight one of these days. Well, ok... maybe not. :) But I will eventually give you pictures, and you can feel free to guess at it. ;)
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Monday, December 7, 2009
My Kid's Having Surgery... AGAIN
In March of this year, Connor had to have his ears tubed because he had enough fluid built up in them that he was not hearing well. We tried a few times with medication to get the fluid to drain, but, alas, it didn't work. So, surgery it was. And it will be surgery, again, next week, but let me give you a little background and a little advice, if you have a kiddo that needs minor surgery (God forbid).
~ He got his first ear infection when he was 4 months old.
~ He's had 2-4 ear infections (usually in both ears) every winter since birth.
~ He is ALWAYS congested in the winter time.
~ This junk has also caused a couple of sinus infections. Joy.
~ He got a "borderline" score on his hearing at his 4-year-old check up. Which, by the way, the pediatrician didn't tell me about because his hearing was "still within normal limits". I was a wee bit peeved when I discovered that.
~ He failed the hearing test at his Preschool in the fall of '08. Well, failed one ear, another borderline score on the other.
~ He got the surgery (after some attempts at ear drops and medication) in March of '09.
~ Sometime between then and now, he had a growth spurt, and forced the tubes out of position, thus allowing fluid to come back into his ears, get backed up, stuff him up, and cause yet another double ear infection. Yay.
~ This time, surgery will involve not only replacing the tubes, but also removing his adenoids. Oh, and it has to be done before he gets on a plane for Miami on the 23rd. Planes are bad for fluid filled ears. :::sigh:::
As far as surgery goes, it was definitely harder on me than on Connor. I was a wreck. Ask my Mom, she'll tell you! But, in the end, it was truly not a big deal. We have a fabulous ENT, the surgery center was nice, and the anesthesiologist was a rock star. Connor loved him, and so did I. I hope he's the one to do the next surgery!
The day was pretty easy... show up at 6:30am (ugh!), surgery at 7:30. Connor got some Tylenol with Codeine to start the day (ain't that great on an empty stomach!), and that's when we met the anesthesiologist. He had us all giggling, and Connor at ease. Told my kiddo he was going to get to go into a room like a spaceship, with all sorts of cool machines, and that he was even going to get to wear a "space mask". That would be the gas mask. :) Connor was actually cheering and excited to go into the OR. Like I said... the man was a rock star.
Despite the fact that I had about a dozen people tell me not to be the one to go into the OR with Connor and hold him while he was gassed (something I really wish I could do at home, sometimes!), I always prefer to know what's going on. Remember, I am the chick that insisted on witnessing her own knee surgery. So, I feel better seeing it, and I stand by that, still. If Tim will let me, I'll be the one to go in, again. So, turns out he didn't really like the "space mask". It "smell[ed] yucky, Mommy!" He struggled, but the resident rock star said that was actually better - they breathe more heavily when they struggle, therefor inhale more of the gas faster and get knocked right out. As was the case with Connor. And, as I was holding him, I did catch a whiff of the gas, and he was totally right. The stuff was really stinky.
The surgery took maybe 20 minutes. And another 20 minutes or so after that, we got to go in to see him wake up and have a popsicle. Boy, he loved having that for breakfast! He was a little punchy for an hour or so, but by lunchtime, it was like nothing had even happened. Now, the Doc tells me that this time, with taking out his adenoids, the recovery time will be longer - 24 hours or so. But still, not too bad. And at least this time I know what I'm dealing with.
So, anyway, a week from Friday, we will be going round the roller coaster once again. For any of you that might have a kid and you're wondering what the signs are of this joyous problem, I assure you - your kid, like mine, may not exhibit the "typical" signs of ear issues. Here's a list of what didn't occur with my son:
~ Complaining of ear pain. Not even once. Not a peep, even when the doc said he should be screaming.
~ Tugging at his ears. Again, no. Your ears get irritated when they're infected, thus the tugging. It's almost like trying to scratch an itch. But, not a single tug that I ever caught from my kiddo.
~ Poking into his ears. Again, like trying to scratch an itch. And, nope. No poking, here.
~ Fever. Only a couple of times out of about 15-20 thus far. He must take after my grandfather. The man would walk around with strep and zero throat pain. Anomalies, the both of them.
~ A change in behavior/attitude. Nope. Almost always his usual, chipper self. The exceptions? The couple of times he did actually spike a fever.
What did occur? Major congestion, hearing loss (from the fluid), and a cough. Sounds like a head cold, doesn't it? That's what I thought for the first year of his life. Then, I got into the habit of bringing him in to the doc if he was stuffed up for more than a few days, because I just knew it would turn into an infection.
So, I hope modern technology will come to the rescue on the second attempt, and rid my kid of these nasty problems. Keep your fingers crossed, and I'll update you as soon as it's over and we're safely in Miami. Which, I'm sure, will give me yet another story to tell. :)
Merry Christmas!
~ He got his first ear infection when he was 4 months old.
~ He's had 2-4 ear infections (usually in both ears) every winter since birth.
~ He is ALWAYS congested in the winter time.
~ This junk has also caused a couple of sinus infections. Joy.
~ He got a "borderline" score on his hearing at his 4-year-old check up. Which, by the way, the pediatrician didn't tell me about because his hearing was "still within normal limits". I was a wee bit peeved when I discovered that.
~ He failed the hearing test at his Preschool in the fall of '08. Well, failed one ear, another borderline score on the other.
~ He got the surgery (after some attempts at ear drops and medication) in March of '09.
~ Sometime between then and now, he had a growth spurt, and forced the tubes out of position, thus allowing fluid to come back into his ears, get backed up, stuff him up, and cause yet another double ear infection. Yay.
~ This time, surgery will involve not only replacing the tubes, but also removing his adenoids. Oh, and it has to be done before he gets on a plane for Miami on the 23rd. Planes are bad for fluid filled ears. :::sigh:::
As far as surgery goes, it was definitely harder on me than on Connor. I was a wreck. Ask my Mom, she'll tell you! But, in the end, it was truly not a big deal. We have a fabulous ENT, the surgery center was nice, and the anesthesiologist was a rock star. Connor loved him, and so did I. I hope he's the one to do the next surgery!
The day was pretty easy... show up at 6:30am (ugh!), surgery at 7:30. Connor got some Tylenol with Codeine to start the day (ain't that great on an empty stomach!), and that's when we met the anesthesiologist. He had us all giggling, and Connor at ease. Told my kiddo he was going to get to go into a room like a spaceship, with all sorts of cool machines, and that he was even going to get to wear a "space mask". That would be the gas mask. :) Connor was actually cheering and excited to go into the OR. Like I said... the man was a rock star.
Despite the fact that I had about a dozen people tell me not to be the one to go into the OR with Connor and hold him while he was gassed (something I really wish I could do at home, sometimes!), I always prefer to know what's going on. Remember, I am the chick that insisted on witnessing her own knee surgery. So, I feel better seeing it, and I stand by that, still. If Tim will let me, I'll be the one to go in, again. So, turns out he didn't really like the "space mask". It "smell[ed] yucky, Mommy!" He struggled, but the resident rock star said that was actually better - they breathe more heavily when they struggle, therefor inhale more of the gas faster and get knocked right out. As was the case with Connor. And, as I was holding him, I did catch a whiff of the gas, and he was totally right. The stuff was really stinky.
The surgery took maybe 20 minutes. And another 20 minutes or so after that, we got to go in to see him wake up and have a popsicle. Boy, he loved having that for breakfast! He was a little punchy for an hour or so, but by lunchtime, it was like nothing had even happened. Now, the Doc tells me that this time, with taking out his adenoids, the recovery time will be longer - 24 hours or so. But still, not too bad. And at least this time I know what I'm dealing with.
So, anyway, a week from Friday, we will be going round the roller coaster once again. For any of you that might have a kid and you're wondering what the signs are of this joyous problem, I assure you - your kid, like mine, may not exhibit the "typical" signs of ear issues. Here's a list of what didn't occur with my son:
~ Complaining of ear pain. Not even once. Not a peep, even when the doc said he should be screaming.
~ Tugging at his ears. Again, no. Your ears get irritated when they're infected, thus the tugging. It's almost like trying to scratch an itch. But, not a single tug that I ever caught from my kiddo.
~ Poking into his ears. Again, like trying to scratch an itch. And, nope. No poking, here.
~ Fever. Only a couple of times out of about 15-20 thus far. He must take after my grandfather. The man would walk around with strep and zero throat pain. Anomalies, the both of them.
~ A change in behavior/attitude. Nope. Almost always his usual, chipper self. The exceptions? The couple of times he did actually spike a fever.
What did occur? Major congestion, hearing loss (from the fluid), and a cough. Sounds like a head cold, doesn't it? That's what I thought for the first year of his life. Then, I got into the habit of bringing him in to the doc if he was stuffed up for more than a few days, because I just knew it would turn into an infection.
So, I hope modern technology will come to the rescue on the second attempt, and rid my kid of these nasty problems. Keep your fingers crossed, and I'll update you as soon as it's over and we're safely in Miami. Which, I'm sure, will give me yet another story to tell. :)
Merry Christmas!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Peace
You know, as I get older, peace seems to be harder to come by. And I mean both the inner AND the outer kind! In some ways, it would be so much easier to go back to times when I didn't have any responsibility to speak of. Of course, back then I thought there was no peace, either.
What is peace, really? Well... I think it's different for everyone. People find peace in all sort of places. I find outer peace at home... when Connor is in school, of course. When he's home - the only outer peace I get is when he's asleep. And, for some reason, I desperately want another kid! I also find outer peace out in nature. But as I prefer to share things like that with my loved ones, I don't get that very much, anymore. Tim is allergic to the outside world, and bugs absolutely adore his blood. I can't say I blame them... he is very sweet! :::insert your gagging noises, here:::
Inner peace is a harder animal to find. And the road to it is constantly forking and winding. Right now, for me, inner peace means financial stability first. And we're finally getting to that. But you always seem to have to make sacrifices to find inner peace, and for us, getting financial stability was no exception. So, what sacrifices will have to be made for me to get to the next on my list of peaceful inner things? Good Lord, I haven't a clue. See... the next part of finding my own personal peace to to fix me. lol The outer me. Fix the outer me to find inner peace.
My entire life, I have struggled with my weight. Not to the extent that some have, certainly, but I'm not sure my inner stress is any different. Although I consider myself fat at the moment, I am by no stretch morbidly obese. And there are some who would feel they even have to argue the "fat" part. But, trust me... I'm fat. I feel kinda gross. I used to weigh 128 pounds and wear a size 5. I am now around 200 pounds (pretty sure... I tend to avoid the scale whenever possible) and wear a size 14 (ok... maybe 16). I used to be able to kick straight up. Now, I'm working to kick head level. And not because my flexibility is less - because the dang fat rolls are in the way. So, why haven't I fixed it? Well... I go back to the whole inner peace thing.
If you go look in the dictionary, I'm sure there will be a picture of me (possibly a family portrait, actually) under "emotional eater". I feed my stress. Yum! Nothing tastes better than crap when you're stressed out! My husband, on the other hand, starves his stress. Were but I to have that problem! So, over the last couple of years, as we've been majorly stressed about money, I've gained a stoopid amount of weight, and he's lost it. Tim, who was already slender, got down to an emaciated-looking 125 pounds. For a man that's 5'8", it's not nearly as healthy looking a weight as a 5'4" woman. In the last couple of months, as our financial outlook in drastically improving, Tim has gained 13 pounds, joined a gym, and has enlisted the help of an amazing personal trainer. And he's excited about it! He gets up to go to the gym at 5:30 in the morning. And he's NOT a morning guy. Because his newfound inner peace about money is motivating him to find inner peace about his outer self. So... what's my problem? Why don't I want to go to the gym, too? Why don't I want to work out with this trainer? (By the way, the trainer was mine, first... a friend introduced me, and I worked out with him for a year. He helped me feel good and loose some weight. Mostly in the posterior region...) Where's my motivation? I have no idea. If you find it, please return it.
So, I'm trying a tack I've never really tried before. I've always been an athlete. Right now, I'm a mush. I used to dress presentably. I now wear mostly sweats. So, I'm changing some small things about myself to help me get the motivation I need to change the big things. As a "fat girl", I just don't feel attractive. So, what can I do to fix that? I've been wearing make-up everyday. That's seriously new. I bought a few pair of very pretty, simple, inexpensive earrings to wear. Also new. I got my hair done in a way that's easy and - imho - very flattering and pretty. Highlights and all. Bought a couple of pair of new, nice jeans that fit. And the really new thing? I got ma nails done. I feel like such a girl... and I think it's working. I'm starting to feel like a pretty girl, and pretty girls don't eat crap. They don't binge on cookies (I have a box of those fabulous Costco cookies in my pantry that normally would have been gone in a few days - it's been there for about 2 weeks, and it's half full. I think I only had 2), eat at the fast food places because they are there (ok, I did that today, but I'm a work in progress!) and they actually cook a decent dinner. Every day. And I've actually been doing that! I'm not sure it's habit, yet, but I'm even starting to get fired up about cooking. And... I'm not a chef, believe me. Pasta and perogies, that's me. But I find myself, because I'm changing seemingly frivolous things, getting to the hard stuff.
I'm changing the outside, first. I've always tried to do it the other way. But I now realize that if you look like crap, you're not inclined to do anything but feel like crap. As I look better on the outside, I really am starting to feel better on the inside, and get closer to the inner peace I want. And I think I deserve. So, we'll see how it goes!
And, I'll tell you a secret... I actually LOVE the silly nails!
What is peace, really? Well... I think it's different for everyone. People find peace in all sort of places. I find outer peace at home... when Connor is in school, of course. When he's home - the only outer peace I get is when he's asleep. And, for some reason, I desperately want another kid! I also find outer peace out in nature. But as I prefer to share things like that with my loved ones, I don't get that very much, anymore. Tim is allergic to the outside world, and bugs absolutely adore his blood. I can't say I blame them... he is very sweet! :::insert your gagging noises, here:::
Inner peace is a harder animal to find. And the road to it is constantly forking and winding. Right now, for me, inner peace means financial stability first. And we're finally getting to that. But you always seem to have to make sacrifices to find inner peace, and for us, getting financial stability was no exception. So, what sacrifices will have to be made for me to get to the next on my list of peaceful inner things? Good Lord, I haven't a clue. See... the next part of finding my own personal peace to to fix me. lol The outer me. Fix the outer me to find inner peace.
My entire life, I have struggled with my weight. Not to the extent that some have, certainly, but I'm not sure my inner stress is any different. Although I consider myself fat at the moment, I am by no stretch morbidly obese. And there are some who would feel they even have to argue the "fat" part. But, trust me... I'm fat. I feel kinda gross. I used to weigh 128 pounds and wear a size 5. I am now around 200 pounds (pretty sure... I tend to avoid the scale whenever possible) and wear a size 14 (ok... maybe 16). I used to be able to kick straight up. Now, I'm working to kick head level. And not because my flexibility is less - because the dang fat rolls are in the way. So, why haven't I fixed it? Well... I go back to the whole inner peace thing.
If you go look in the dictionary, I'm sure there will be a picture of me (possibly a family portrait, actually) under "emotional eater". I feed my stress. Yum! Nothing tastes better than crap when you're stressed out! My husband, on the other hand, starves his stress. Were but I to have that problem! So, over the last couple of years, as we've been majorly stressed about money, I've gained a stoopid amount of weight, and he's lost it. Tim, who was already slender, got down to an emaciated-looking 125 pounds. For a man that's 5'8", it's not nearly as healthy looking a weight as a 5'4" woman. In the last couple of months, as our financial outlook in drastically improving, Tim has gained 13 pounds, joined a gym, and has enlisted the help of an amazing personal trainer. And he's excited about it! He gets up to go to the gym at 5:30 in the morning. And he's NOT a morning guy. Because his newfound inner peace about money is motivating him to find inner peace about his outer self. So... what's my problem? Why don't I want to go to the gym, too? Why don't I want to work out with this trainer? (By the way, the trainer was mine, first... a friend introduced me, and I worked out with him for a year. He helped me feel good and loose some weight. Mostly in the posterior region...) Where's my motivation? I have no idea. If you find it, please return it.
So, I'm trying a tack I've never really tried before. I've always been an athlete. Right now, I'm a mush. I used to dress presentably. I now wear mostly sweats. So, I'm changing some small things about myself to help me get the motivation I need to change the big things. As a "fat girl", I just don't feel attractive. So, what can I do to fix that? I've been wearing make-up everyday. That's seriously new. I bought a few pair of very pretty, simple, inexpensive earrings to wear. Also new. I got my hair done in a way that's easy and - imho - very flattering and pretty. Highlights and all. Bought a couple of pair of new, nice jeans that fit. And the really new thing? I got ma nails done. I feel like such a girl... and I think it's working. I'm starting to feel like a pretty girl, and pretty girls don't eat crap. They don't binge on cookies (I have a box of those fabulous Costco cookies in my pantry that normally would have been gone in a few days - it's been there for about 2 weeks, and it's half full. I think I only had 2), eat at the fast food places because they are there (ok, I did that today, but I'm a work in progress!) and they actually cook a decent dinner. Every day. And I've actually been doing that! I'm not sure it's habit, yet, but I'm even starting to get fired up about cooking. And... I'm not a chef, believe me. Pasta and perogies, that's me. But I find myself, because I'm changing seemingly frivolous things, getting to the hard stuff.
I'm changing the outside, first. I've always tried to do it the other way. But I now realize that if you look like crap, you're not inclined to do anything but feel like crap. As I look better on the outside, I really am starting to feel better on the inside, and get closer to the inner peace I want. And I think I deserve. So, we'll see how it goes!
And, I'll tell you a secret... I actually LOVE the silly nails!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Why Do People DO That?
So... there have been many times in my life that I haven't understood people's actions. Some people loose it on the server at a restaurant because their food came out wrong, or late or whatever. Some people let friends or loved ones just slip out of their life. Some people lie, cheat or steal. Why? Maybe I'm naive or idealistic... but I just don't get it! Truly, it's not that hard to live an honest life.
It seems that, lately, I'm constantly surrounded by new drama. Even old drama has come back around. But at least I have some perspective on that. I have had people in my life that swear up and down that I'm like family. Then, when it's no longer easy, I'm just dust in the wind. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. I have gained time and perspective on people that I have truly adored, idolized and looked to for example, only to find out that really, the talk isn't walked. I have seen people that I knew... people that I once called friends... turn out to be child molesters. And I have seen people that teach honesty and integrity abuse and cheat on their spouses. And I just... don't... GET IT.
Is it really so hard to walk the talk? I mean, come on. If you preach to the people around you to tell the truth, tell it yourself. Is the truth harder sometimes? Oh, heck yeah. Does it always work for you in the end? Yup. My Grandmaster says there are things called "beautiful lies". On this, I agree. Grandmaster Rhee's example is usually this: A family is so poor that they cannot afford much food. At the end of the day, a girl is fixing dinner for herself and her elderly father. She realizes that there is only enough food for one, and so gives dinner to her father, and she goes without. When her father asks her if she has already eaten, she replies, "Yes, Father, I have." A beautiful lie.
But the majority of lies aren't beautiful. They're ugly. So... don't tell them. My son has told me a grand total of about 3 or 4 lies. He's four, so I'm sure there will be more, unfortunately. You know why it's only been that many? Because he gets in more trouble for the lie than the thing he lied about. Only took a few times... he's a fast learner. I hope it sticks through teenage hood! Yeah, right... But, on with my tirade.
And have you ever noticed lies have a theme? Lies are usually told for one of 3 reasons... they think the truth will get them in trouble, they think the lie is just easier, or they think the lie will be more impressive. Uhh... no, no and NO. Initially, maybe, but in the long run? All you do is get into more trouble. So, I say again... don't lie. So simple.
To some extent, we are all selfish. It's human nature to look out for number one. But, really... we should all stop at manipulating other people. Or keeping them from reaching their true potential because it doesn't suit us. Or get pissed off when people leave us. Let people be who they truly are, and the rewards for you - yes, even the selfish you - will be SO much greater. There's a saying that I'm about to mangle, but you'll get the gist: "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours for a lifetime." It's hard to let go, because of that selfish thing... but it's so much better. So, I say again... let people be who they are. So simple.
Child molestation... I don't think there are many evils that can top that one. And yet, it seems to be rampant. Are some people so sick in the head that they don't know right from wrong? Or have no conscience? I think there might be. But the vast majority of these offenders don't fall into those categories. The men I knew don't. And yet, even though they knew what they were doing was wrong, they did it, anyway. I can't even express to you the contempt and disgust I feel for people who do this. And the overwhelming sadness I feel that innocents have to go through that horror. I just don't understand it. And I don't understand the people who stand by and have an idea it might be going on, but say nothing. I feel incredibly guilty that I didn't see anything, yet there was no way I could - one was a martial arts "friend" I only saw at tournaments once a month or so, and another didn't come into his criminal activity until years after I had moved out of state (we were young when we knew each other). Thankfully, these two were caught, but there are countless others who get away with it. Takes a lot of bravery to ask for help or to speak up when you suspect something. But, for the sake of the innocents... do it, anyway. So it's not simple.
My last beef really, really kills me. Why, why, why do people cheat on their spouses??? I don't care what your excuse might be, it doesn't make it right. Your spouse abuses you. Ok... get help getting out. There are ways. And, really, you think that an abusive spouse would be perfectly calm when they find out? It sure seems like a good way to get yourself killed. Because they always find out. It's the nature of the beast. You're trapped in an unhappy marriage, but don't want to leave because of.... the kids, the money, whatever? Too bad. You made your bed, now lie in it. Suck it up or leave. Your spouse cheated on you, so you're getting him/her back? Ya, real mature. Listen, cheating is a deal breaker for me. I don't care what the circumstances are, it's not acceptable. And it's SO easy to avoid. Don't put yourself in a situation that might tempt you, short term or long. A married person has absolutely no business spending an excessive amount of alone time with a member of the opposite sex (unless one of them is gay (= ). It's asking for trouble. So, keep yourself out of it. So simple.
I guess it's in my nature, but I feel the need to mention some happy things, now. I have amazing people in my life, people that I've known forEVER. People that didn't act like I fell off the face of the planet anytime I moved. People that I still see and spend time with. People that don't lie and manipulate. The majority of my people are like that, as a matter of fact. And I'm grateful for them everyday. I have grown the ability, for the most part, to purge the nasty people from my life and to look out and be sure to not let any more in. And, I have an amazingly happy marriage. I actually have good communication with my husband. Which is not to say that we don't have our issues - all spouses do. But our learning curve is pretty steep, and we meant it when we said the part about the better and worse. I can't imagine my life without him... and if I was starting to have wandering eyes... I'd get some help, talk to someone (including him), and nip it in the bud. It's what a good wife or husband does, and I pray to God that I continue to be a good wife, walk the talk, and continue to be a person of integrity.
How about you?
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Traveling with a 4 year old, Part 2
Ok, so... we made it! And it wasn't nearly as bad as I had thought it would be. He was impatient, definitely. At 8 am, he was in my room... "Mommy, it is time to go? How about now? Is it time, now? How much longer? How about I wait in the car?" Excited much? So, I had to stall him for a couple of hours, but then we were on our way to to airport. Thank you, whoever invented the portable DVD player!
So, we said our goodbye's to Daddy, and off we went to wait in the outrageous lines that are now part of the airport experience. Connor and his new Mohawk were quite the hit! He was a really good boy, and thought it was the coolest thing ever to take off his shoes and go barefoot through the metal detector. I had grown a brain since he was a baby, and decided to have lunch at the airport - way more entertaining than just sitting at the gate. Of course, the choice du jour was McDonald's. And from there, we pretty much walked onto the plane.
A little aside... While in the tube-thingy you walk down to get on the plane, there was another family behind us - Mom, Dad, 3-ish year old boy, and an almost 1-ish year old girl. It was quite the entourage. Anyway, the boy was about as excited as Connor, and started asking Mom if it was time to get on the plane. Mom said that yes, it was, but first "we have to wait for the rest of the people to get on". The little boy immediately started saying, quite loudly, I might add, as only little ones can, "Go 'way, people! Go 'way!" I looked back with a grin and Dad looked mortified. I said, "'Go 'way'... excellent!" to the Dad, and to the boy, "I feel the same way, buddy!"
So, being that the aviation people are a little anal about what you can and cannot use during takeoff these days (I've been flying since I was a little kid, listening to my music all through take off, and no one ever died, by the way) it was a bit tricky keeping my son in his seat belt and distracted until the plane started moving. Once we pulled away from the gate - thank God we didn't have to sit on the runway! - Connor was the consummate boy... "WOW, MOMMY! This plane goes faster than your CAR! How does it DO that!?" And he proceeded to ask me a million questions about how planes work. And, yes, I admit I might have made up an answer or two.
He was really a very good boy through the flight. Even after the batteries on his DVD player were spent, and we discovered that the batteries on his hand held Leapster game we dead, he drew, colored, and played Go Fish with me until we were ready to land. He even kept to a minimal dozen are so "Are we there, yet?"s and "How much longer?"s.
When we got off the plane, he had his eyes peeled for Nanny, and sprinted the last 50 yards to give her a hug. He only ran over two or three sets of toes with his rolly backpack on the way. The worst part, by far, was waiting for the luggage to come out. That dang conveyor belt is just too tempting looking to not touch! I did, however, avoid giving him a beating. Narrowly. But, since he was so good on the plane, I thought he deserved a pass.
So, all in all... it appears that I will actually take Connor on the plane with me for the return trip, as opposed to checking him with the baggage. I will be sure to have fresh batteries, though! And, considering how much fun we're having so far - it's worth every minute of travel, and I'll do it again in a heartbeat.
So, we said our goodbye's to Daddy, and off we went to wait in the outrageous lines that are now part of the airport experience. Connor and his new Mohawk were quite the hit! He was a really good boy, and thought it was the coolest thing ever to take off his shoes and go barefoot through the metal detector. I had grown a brain since he was a baby, and decided to have lunch at the airport - way more entertaining than just sitting at the gate. Of course, the choice du jour was McDonald's. And from there, we pretty much walked onto the plane.
A little aside... While in the tube-thingy you walk down to get on the plane, there was another family behind us - Mom, Dad, 3-ish year old boy, and an almost 1-ish year old girl. It was quite the entourage. Anyway, the boy was about as excited as Connor, and started asking Mom if it was time to get on the plane. Mom said that yes, it was, but first "we have to wait for the rest of the people to get on". The little boy immediately started saying, quite loudly, I might add, as only little ones can, "Go 'way, people! Go 'way!" I looked back with a grin and Dad looked mortified. I said, "'Go 'way'... excellent!" to the Dad, and to the boy, "I feel the same way, buddy!"
So, being that the aviation people are a little anal about what you can and cannot use during takeoff these days (I've been flying since I was a little kid, listening to my music all through take off, and no one ever died, by the way) it was a bit tricky keeping my son in his seat belt and distracted until the plane started moving. Once we pulled away from the gate - thank God we didn't have to sit on the runway! - Connor was the consummate boy... "WOW, MOMMY! This plane goes faster than your CAR! How does it DO that!?" And he proceeded to ask me a million questions about how planes work. And, yes, I admit I might have made up an answer or two.
He was really a very good boy through the flight. Even after the batteries on his DVD player were spent, and we discovered that the batteries on his hand held Leapster game we dead, he drew, colored, and played Go Fish with me until we were ready to land. He even kept to a minimal dozen are so "Are we there, yet?"s and "How much longer?"s.
When we got off the plane, he had his eyes peeled for Nanny, and sprinted the last 50 yards to give her a hug. He only ran over two or three sets of toes with his rolly backpack on the way. The worst part, by far, was waiting for the luggage to come out. That dang conveyor belt is just too tempting looking to not touch! I did, however, avoid giving him a beating. Narrowly. But, since he was so good on the plane, I thought he deserved a pass.
So, all in all... it appears that I will actually take Connor on the plane with me for the return trip, as opposed to checking him with the baggage. I will be sure to have fresh batteries, though! And, considering how much fun we're having so far - it's worth every minute of travel, and I'll do it again in a heartbeat.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Traveling with a 4 year old...
It's already an adventure, and we haven't even left, yet! Pretty much every year these days, we go to the "homeland" (well, mine, anyway) - Miami. The first time with Connor was when he was 5 months old. I went a few days before my husband, and thus wound up traveling alone with a baby. And I SWORE I would never do it, again. Why is it we never seem to stick to that stuff? Because, of course, I'm doing it again. Traveling alone with the kiddo. But, you see, it will be different this time - he's almost five.
We've been counting down the days for a bit... we're down to 2 more to go. He wakes me up every morning, telling me the new count. "Two more days, Mommy!" So far, he's wanted to pack everything from his woobie (no problem) to the television (big problem) and all of his stuffed animals (no way). So, this time, the adventure begins at home.
We pack tomorrow and leave the day after. Once we arrive in Miami, all will be fine, I'm sure. Getting there, on the other hand... We have a 12:55pm flight, which means I have to distract him all morning until it's time to get in the car, drive for about an hour to the airport, wait at the airport for an hour to get on the plane, wait on the plane for Lord-only-knows-how-long to take off, and finally a 2.5 hour flight to Miami.
If nothing else, it should be interesting! Stay tuned....
We've been counting down the days for a bit... we're down to 2 more to go. He wakes me up every morning, telling me the new count. "Two more days, Mommy!" So far, he's wanted to pack everything from his woobie (no problem) to the television (big problem) and all of his stuffed animals (no way). So, this time, the adventure begins at home.
We pack tomorrow and leave the day after. Once we arrive in Miami, all will be fine, I'm sure. Getting there, on the other hand... We have a 12:55pm flight, which means I have to distract him all morning until it's time to get in the car, drive for about an hour to the airport, wait at the airport for an hour to get on the plane, wait on the plane for Lord-only-knows-how-long to take off, and finally a 2.5 hour flight to Miami.
If nothing else, it should be interesting! Stay tuned....
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Friends
It never ceases to amaze me how real, true, good friends will come to the rescue. I'm not talking about the friends you just have coffee or go to a movie with, necessarily, but the ones that maybe you don't see for a while - years, even - and when you get together again, it's like time never even passed.
I have a few like that. A few that, if I needed it, they would go to the ends of the Earth for me and my family. And vice versa. Friends I never thought I would find, or find again. One, I've known since we were kids. I mean, like babies. Our Moms were friends. Her Mom ran our Brownie Troop, eventually. But I'll never call her an "old" friend. ;-) There have been stretches of years that we haven't spoken. But we somehow wound up living an hour from one another, and anytime I need her, all I would have to do is call. And I hope she understands the reverse is totally true.
One, I met in High School. It's weird, because although we just reconnected a little better than a year ago, and I've only seen her while on vacation once in that time, I really do put her on this list. We were good friends in high school, played sports together, had classes together, ate lunch together, hung out... she tried to kill me with a fire extinguisher, even. True friendship, that! The weird thing is that I think we can all just sense the "right" friends when we come upon them. It had literally been over a decade (good God) since we last saw each other, and yet I know if I needed her, she'd be there for me. And again, I hope she understands I would be there for her, too.
The other two, aside from my husband, came to me through my martial arts. One, I never in a million years thought we would become as fast of friends as we have. Even though we don't live near each other, anymore, we try not to let too long go by without writing or talking. I miss her lots, and she makes me wish I could bring all my people together in one place. Another rock in my life. She even came up for a whole week to give me moral support when my son was born, even though she didn't have any more of a clue what to do with a newborn than I did! Another sign of true friendship.
The other, and last on the short list, was the weirdest of meetings, I think. The first chick, our Moms facilitated. The second... well, high school is a natural place to connect. The third... she and I trained together. This one, though, came out of nowhere - almost literally. Came in to take a class one day, and I saw a hole in her pants in an... uncomfortable... spot. So, I told her, she safety pinned it, and the rest is history. She and I have been through the proverbial wringer, and I know from experience she would sacrifice for herself to give to me. And, most happily, vice versa. My friends are the bomb.
What's that saying, again? "Friends come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime"? Sorry if I mangled it. I am grateful for them all, even the ones that I carry a trace of sadness about because I thought they were here for a lifetime - was sure of it, in fact - and they turned out to be here only for a reason or a season. But those lifers... I don't know what I would do without them. I love them from the bottom of my heart.
Here's to the rest of our lives, and the friends that come along for the ride. Thanks, guys.
I have a few like that. A few that, if I needed it, they would go to the ends of the Earth for me and my family. And vice versa. Friends I never thought I would find, or find again. One, I've known since we were kids. I mean, like babies. Our Moms were friends. Her Mom ran our Brownie Troop, eventually. But I'll never call her an "old" friend. ;-) There have been stretches of years that we haven't spoken. But we somehow wound up living an hour from one another, and anytime I need her, all I would have to do is call. And I hope she understands the reverse is totally true.
One, I met in High School. It's weird, because although we just reconnected a little better than a year ago, and I've only seen her while on vacation once in that time, I really do put her on this list. We were good friends in high school, played sports together, had classes together, ate lunch together, hung out... she tried to kill me with a fire extinguisher, even. True friendship, that! The weird thing is that I think we can all just sense the "right" friends when we come upon them. It had literally been over a decade (good God) since we last saw each other, and yet I know if I needed her, she'd be there for me. And again, I hope she understands I would be there for her, too.
The other two, aside from my husband, came to me through my martial arts. One, I never in a million years thought we would become as fast of friends as we have. Even though we don't live near each other, anymore, we try not to let too long go by without writing or talking. I miss her lots, and she makes me wish I could bring all my people together in one place. Another rock in my life. She even came up for a whole week to give me moral support when my son was born, even though she didn't have any more of a clue what to do with a newborn than I did! Another sign of true friendship.
The other, and last on the short list, was the weirdest of meetings, I think. The first chick, our Moms facilitated. The second... well, high school is a natural place to connect. The third... she and I trained together. This one, though, came out of nowhere - almost literally. Came in to take a class one day, and I saw a hole in her pants in an... uncomfortable... spot. So, I told her, she safety pinned it, and the rest is history. She and I have been through the proverbial wringer, and I know from experience she would sacrifice for herself to give to me. And, most happily, vice versa. My friends are the bomb.
What's that saying, again? "Friends come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime"? Sorry if I mangled it. I am grateful for them all, even the ones that I carry a trace of sadness about because I thought they were here for a lifetime - was sure of it, in fact - and they turned out to be here only for a reason or a season. But those lifers... I don't know what I would do without them. I love them from the bottom of my heart.
Here's to the rest of our lives, and the friends that come along for the ride. Thanks, guys.
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