Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Dropping Trou
The kids and I were at Target yesterday. Things were going downhill quickly so I decided to cut the trip short and head to the register. I had already piled the cart with unassembled bookcases to use as storage in the playroom. As I was loading the stuff onto the belt, Makena said, "Mommy, I need to go to the potty." Now, we have been very lucky in that her first warning is usually well in advance. So, I explained that we would go to the restroom as soon as I paid for the stuff and continued emptying the cart. When I was nearly done, I glanced in her direction. There she stood pants and underwear down to her ankles. The cashier and I spotted her at the same time. I’m not sure what I said as I was a bit shocked. The wonderful cashier told me it was okay to leave my stuff on the belt and take her to the restroom before she finished what she started. I had to pull Kessler from the cart (I had just gotten him to settle in there). We headed to the restroom where Makena did her business. I carried Kessler and scurried Makena back to the register. Someone else was being rung up by the time we got back. The poor customer was taking each item from her cart and handing it to the poor cashier because the conveyer belt had all of my stuff on it! Kessler refused to go back in the cart, so I had to load a few more heavy boxes onto the belt. Then I loaded all of it back into the cart. I couldn't get out of the store fast enough. Unfortunately, pushing a very heavy cart, while holding a very heavy toddler, with a three year old hanging off the side is a very slow process. I was sweating when I finally got to the car. I felt like I had run a marathon!
Monday, September 22, 2008
He's one of us..
Mark became an American Citizen today!!!! How much more can we lower our standards?
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Various and Sundry
I downloaded all the photos from both our cameras. Some are a bit hold. Here are a few anyway:
Here are some that deserve the spotlight.
We went to Santa Cruz while Mark's parents were here. Here are several photos of Kessler putting sand down the back of his shirt. He wouldn't stop doing it!
It was Wacky Dress Up day at school. The photos below show our rendition of Wacky. The only problem was that I was the only parent in Makena's class that remembered. Poor Makena!!
I left a glass of chocolate milk on the counter when I was taking a shower. I heard Kessler doing his "I climbed up something and can't get down" whine. I peaked out to see what he was doing. I had to streak through the house to get the camera for these.
Mark needed some documents for his citizenship interview and they weren't where they are supposed to be. So, we tore up the office. In the middle of it all, Makena shows up with this "hat" on her head:.
As cute as a cookie:
I always say, start training them while they're young!
Here are some that deserve the spotlight.
We went to Santa Cruz while Mark's parents were here. Here are several photos of Kessler putting sand down the back of his shirt. He wouldn't stop doing it!
It was Wacky Dress Up day at school. The photos below show our rendition of Wacky. The only problem was that I was the only parent in Makena's class that remembered. Poor Makena!!
I left a glass of chocolate milk on the counter when I was taking a shower. I heard Kessler doing his "I climbed up something and can't get down" whine. I peaked out to see what he was doing. I had to streak through the house to get the camera for these.
Mark needed some documents for his citizenship interview and they weren't where they are supposed to be. So, we tore up the office. In the middle of it all, Makena shows up with this "hat" on her head:.
As cute as a cookie:
I always say, start training them while they're young!
Forty years ago today..
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Consumed
I have to admit it, I'm consumed by the election these days. I didn't pay too much attention in past elections; I always voted Republican because I thought that was in my personal best interest--specifically as it relates to being a business owner.
This time however, I decided to take a bit more notice. Mainly because I was surprised that McCain won the Republican primary. He just seems a little too emotionally charged for me. That's something I noticed about Bush, but chose to ignore when I voted for him.. twice. I didn't want to make the same mistake three times.
At the same time, Obama was gaining momentum. Very begrudgingly, I decided to see why he was causing such a stir. After reading his books and researching his stance on the issues, I decided I just liked the guy. He has character. He reminds me of Mark (my husband). He's not emotionally driven. He's very level headed and his personality is even-keeled. He's an amazing communicator. He explains himself superbly (not-so-much like Mark). I don't like where he stands on some issues, but I can appreciate his ideas. He has the attributes of a natural leader; one of which is to seek compromise for the better good. That’s what it seemed like to me anyway. When I started to consider defecting from the Republican ticket, I made it a point to read every single article that I could find about the election.
Subsequently, several events in this campaign have left me so disappointed. When McCain aired the celebrity ads comparing Obama to Britney and Paris and the other ad where he mocked Obama for being “The One” I was really taken aback. I couldn’t believe that McCain deviated so far away from the issues. But what’s far worse, is it worked. Immediately after those ads were aired McCain’s standing improved in the polls.
When Palin gave her speech at the RNC, I was disappointed again. I’m certain she’s an amazing woman in many regards. But, character is very important to me. All people have hopes and desires. They have visions of how things should be. Those visions differ for everyone. The fact that Sarah Palin’s vision differ somewhat from mine is not my problem. My problem is character. To me, character is defined not by what someone is trying to achieve, but how they go about doing it. Her approach seemed just a few steps above the bullies I used to be scared of in school. She was mean and insulting and proud of it. She seemed very provincial to me. Rather than appreciating differences and pointing out why her ideas are better, she made fun of anyone who disagreed with her. I swear, I felt like I was in high school. Her approach was so incendiary and counterproductive to unifying the country. There are ways to make progress by not alienating everyone who disagrees with you. That’s what makes a good leader. I know because she is a woman she has a tougher road to travel, but that can't justify the abandonment of civility.
But, her methods worked as seen by the polls. This past week McCain has put out several ads that have been lies. When a McCain spokesperson was asked why they are doing this, he said because it works! He said that when McCain was talking about the issues, he never received any media time. The media is flocking to the negative ads and the public is responding by increasing their support for McCain. I just don’t get it. They are preying on the uninformed; the people who don’t have the time, don’t want to waste the time they have, or don’t have the capacity otherwise to sift through the garbage to get to the issues. They are counting on people staying uninformed and reacting.. overreacting to sensationalized, dishonest headlines.
If those tactics win the election what will they do for running our country? Imagine if we start thumbing our noses at Iran.. North Korea.. Russia.
Here is the definition of diplomacy:
1 : the art and practice of conducting negotiations between nations
2 : skill in handling affairs without arousing hostility
I'm a Republican and the McCain/Palin campaign has made me hostile! I shudder to think of how the rest of the world will regard us if they are elected.
This time however, I decided to take a bit more notice. Mainly because I was surprised that McCain won the Republican primary. He just seems a little too emotionally charged for me. That's something I noticed about Bush, but chose to ignore when I voted for him.. twice. I didn't want to make the same mistake three times.
At the same time, Obama was gaining momentum. Very begrudgingly, I decided to see why he was causing such a stir. After reading his books and researching his stance on the issues, I decided I just liked the guy. He has character. He reminds me of Mark (my husband). He's not emotionally driven. He's very level headed and his personality is even-keeled. He's an amazing communicator. He explains himself superbly (not-so-much like Mark). I don't like where he stands on some issues, but I can appreciate his ideas. He has the attributes of a natural leader; one of which is to seek compromise for the better good. That’s what it seemed like to me anyway. When I started to consider defecting from the Republican ticket, I made it a point to read every single article that I could find about the election.
Subsequently, several events in this campaign have left me so disappointed. When McCain aired the celebrity ads comparing Obama to Britney and Paris and the other ad where he mocked Obama for being “The One” I was really taken aback. I couldn’t believe that McCain deviated so far away from the issues. But what’s far worse, is it worked. Immediately after those ads were aired McCain’s standing improved in the polls.
When Palin gave her speech at the RNC, I was disappointed again. I’m certain she’s an amazing woman in many regards. But, character is very important to me. All people have hopes and desires. They have visions of how things should be. Those visions differ for everyone. The fact that Sarah Palin’s vision differ somewhat from mine is not my problem. My problem is character. To me, character is defined not by what someone is trying to achieve, but how they go about doing it. Her approach seemed just a few steps above the bullies I used to be scared of in school. She was mean and insulting and proud of it. She seemed very provincial to me. Rather than appreciating differences and pointing out why her ideas are better, she made fun of anyone who disagreed with her. I swear, I felt like I was in high school. Her approach was so incendiary and counterproductive to unifying the country. There are ways to make progress by not alienating everyone who disagrees with you. That’s what makes a good leader. I know because she is a woman she has a tougher road to travel, but that can't justify the abandonment of civility.
But, her methods worked as seen by the polls. This past week McCain has put out several ads that have been lies. When a McCain spokesperson was asked why they are doing this, he said because it works! He said that when McCain was talking about the issues, he never received any media time. The media is flocking to the negative ads and the public is responding by increasing their support for McCain. I just don’t get it. They are preying on the uninformed; the people who don’t have the time, don’t want to waste the time they have, or don’t have the capacity otherwise to sift through the garbage to get to the issues. They are counting on people staying uninformed and reacting.. overreacting to sensationalized, dishonest headlines.
If those tactics win the election what will they do for running our country? Imagine if we start thumbing our noses at Iran.. North Korea.. Russia.
Here is the definition of diplomacy:
1 : the art and practice of conducting negotiations between nations
2 : skill in handling affairs without arousing hostility
I'm a Republican and the McCain/Palin campaign has made me hostile! I shudder to think of how the rest of the world will regard us if they are elected.
Daddy, also known as...
Yesterday, Mark and I were trying to have a serious conversation. It's very tough to do this with the kids around. This attempt proved no different. Makena picked up her "Mary had a Little Lamb" book and brought it to where we were sitting.
Makena looking at Mark, "Sing it with me."
Mark continued talking.
Makena, "Sing it with me. Sing it with me."
Mark, "not right now, sweetie."
Makena, "Sing it with me, Mawk." (Mark with an Australian accent.)
Mark, "Noooo, I'm daddy."
Makena, "Sing it with me... dude. "
Mark, "What did you call me?"
Makena, "dude."
And that was the end of our conversation as none of us could stop laughing.
Later in the day daddy evolved from "dude" to "daddy duffer dude".
Makena looking at Mark, "Sing it with me."
Mark continued talking.
Makena, "Sing it with me. Sing it with me."
Mark, "not right now, sweetie."
Makena, "Sing it with me, Mawk." (Mark with an Australian accent.)
Mark, "Noooo, I'm daddy."
Makena, "Sing it with me... dude. "
Mark, "What did you call me?"
Makena, "dude."
And that was the end of our conversation as none of us could stop laughing.
Later in the day daddy evolved from "dude" to "daddy duffer dude".
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
ANOTHER Birthday Cake
Okay, I have to get caught up again.
The following videos are from late July, when Grandma and Grandpa were still here. Mark wanted to bake another cake with Makena; this time for Grandpa.
You should learn from this video that if the Pellas family (of the US, not to be confused with anyone from Australia) offer to bake you a cake, politely, yet quickly and emphatically decline. We'll call this clip, "Special Ingredient".
The following videos are from late July, when Grandma and Grandpa were still here. Mark wanted to bake another cake with Makena; this time for Grandpa.
You should learn from this video that if the Pellas family (of the US, not to be confused with anyone from Australia) offer to bake you a cake, politely, yet quickly and emphatically decline. We'll call this clip, "Special Ingredient".
This next video is chock-full of little gems. A lot of them should be self explanatory, but I'll explain a few.
We'll start with Kessler attempting to climb on a chair. At this point in time he had only taken a few steps. Little did I know when this video was taken that climbing would become Kessler's favorite pasttime. He loves to climb. He never stopped trying until he mastered it. His only problem now is he can't get down.
You'll notice that Makena is taste testing the batter, which means it's already been mixed, without another key ingredient; no, not spit this time.
At least Kessler's having fun.
On to the chocolate cake. Kessler just couldn't wait. (That's the chocolate mix on the table.)
Alright, now that's he's had some sugar, it's time to break for more sugar (scones with jam and cream). YUM!
The final product was a strawberry and chocolate layered cake with whipped cream in the middle. There was strawberry icing on top, along with various types of sprinkles. (We did omit the special ingredient). I'm proud, yet sad to say we did finish it.
A Visitor
For the last week or so, Makena has had a giraffe in her room.
The first night, it was dark. I think she had called me back to her room after we had already put her to bed. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, "There's a giraffe in my room." "A giraffe?" "Yeah, he's right there," she said pointing across the room. She wasn't alarmed, just matter-of-fact. So, I wasn't sure if it was a good giraffe or a bad giraffe; I certainly didn't want to assume. "What's he doing?" I asked. "He's standing there." "Ahhh, he's looking after you, is he?" "No, he wants to eat my tooties." "Noooo, don't be silly. He wants to kiss your tooties, like this," I kiss her neck as a giraffe would, I'm sure. She's not exactly buying it. She tells me that he needs to go home, back to the zoo. "Oh okay, you know, I think he just left." "No, he's still standing there." I believe Mark entered at this point. (The story is a bit hazy as it was only days, maybe just hours after we returned from Australia). I think I went back to our room so Mark could have a go. Not too much later, they both arrived and hopped into bed. We avoided the subject for a bit. Then Makena asserted again that the giraffe needed to go back to the zoo. We all agreed. Then, with alarm, Makena exclaims, "Oh no, he's going to take mommy's car and go back to the zoo!!" I believe Mark convinced her at this point that the giraffe would take a bus or call a cab or something and Makena did go back to her room.
She's mentioned the giraffe nearly every night since. We get past it pretty easily. Tonight we were in our room winding down as we usually do before bedtime. She stated again that the giraffe is in her room. We did some small talk around it. Then Mark asked, "What's the giraffe's name?" We both would have bet on "Puppy Giraffe", but to our surprise, its name is Ephaphant (Elephant) Giraffe.
No wonder he doesn't want to go back to the zoo!!!
The first night, it was dark. I think she had called me back to her room after we had already put her to bed. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, "There's a giraffe in my room." "A giraffe?" "Yeah, he's right there," she said pointing across the room. She wasn't alarmed, just matter-of-fact. So, I wasn't sure if it was a good giraffe or a bad giraffe; I certainly didn't want to assume. "What's he doing?" I asked. "He's standing there." "Ahhh, he's looking after you, is he?" "No, he wants to eat my tooties." "Noooo, don't be silly. He wants to kiss your tooties, like this," I kiss her neck as a giraffe would, I'm sure. She's not exactly buying it. She tells me that he needs to go home, back to the zoo. "Oh okay, you know, I think he just left." "No, he's still standing there." I believe Mark entered at this point. (The story is a bit hazy as it was only days, maybe just hours after we returned from Australia). I think I went back to our room so Mark could have a go. Not too much later, they both arrived and hopped into bed. We avoided the subject for a bit. Then Makena asserted again that the giraffe needed to go back to the zoo. We all agreed. Then, with alarm, Makena exclaims, "Oh no, he's going to take mommy's car and go back to the zoo!!" I believe Mark convinced her at this point that the giraffe would take a bus or call a cab or something and Makena did go back to her room.
She's mentioned the giraffe nearly every night since. We get past it pretty easily. Tonight we were in our room winding down as we usually do before bedtime. She stated again that the giraffe is in her room. We did some small talk around it. Then Mark asked, "What's the giraffe's name?" We both would have bet on "Puppy Giraffe", but to our surprise, its name is Ephaphant (Elephant) Giraffe.
No wonder he doesn't want to go back to the zoo!!!
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Resilience
A few weeks ago, we received word that Mark’s 93 year old grandmother was quite sick and not expected to survive. Mark had a difficult time with this as he had not seen her in over a decade. So, we decided that we would make a trip to Bendigo (1 ½ hours outside of Melbourne) to see her. That’s where the story begins.
Chapter 1 – Travelatrocity
I decided to contact Travelocity to see if we could use the credit we had from the Fiji trip I had to cancel. With much dread, I made the first of my calls. I told the agent that I had cancelled a trip for my family and wanted to use the credit toward another trip. I explained that I was told this was possible but there would be a $200 change fee. The agent asked questions for which I had already given the answers, but I politely restated them. She used way too many words to tell me that she was going to put me on hold while she checked on this. Several minutes later she returned and confirmed that I could in fact do what I said. I explained that I would like to go ahead and well, do what I said. Again, using far too many words, she asked me to hold. Several minutes later she came back to tell me that I could do that. Realizing this cycle of tell her what I want only to be told it’s possible without actually making it possible would never actually garner any tickets, I decided to do what any sane, rational person would do. I thanked her, hung up and immediately called back to speak with someone else.
The second call was similar to the first, but different enough that I felt I could endure it and actually book the tickets. There were way too many thank yous, apologies and soliloquies that preceded requests to place me on hold. He did however return each time with additional information or questions that gave me reason to believe that we were moving forward. I also found out that my tickets were refundable and not exchangeable. Only, it was $500 a ticket to receive the refund. He managed somehow to circumvent the non-exchangeable rule and reissue the tickets. He was insistent though, that if we left Friday evening at 9:00, we would arrive in Australia Saturday morning at 10:20. I wish. You see, when it’s 9 p.m. on Friday in California, it’s already after 10:00 a.m. on Saturday in Melbourne. He also told me that our flight was direct to Melbourne. Nonetheless he was able to get the job done.
Chapter 2 – Packing too Early
I have this thing. I have absolutely no motivation to pack too early. Too early would be the night before, unless it’s an early flight. In that case, it’s not too early provided it is only the night before and not the day before. With our flight from SF to LA leaving at 5:00 p.m., I had a difficult time deciding when I should actually allow myself to be motivated. I decided to let the confusion serve as a catalyst for turning over a new travelling leaf. I started packing around 9:00 a.m. I was doing really, really well. I used the spare bedroom as a staging area. I had all the kid's stuff sorted into neat little piles. I proudly organized their belongings into travel space bags and placed them into the suitcase. Everytime I'd leave the room, I'd look back and marvel at my organizational accomplishment! I nearly had all of my stuff ready to go too. I watered the plants, left checks for the housecleaning and cat sitter. I had the carry-on bags ready to go with food, diapers, wipes, and spare changes of clothes for the kids. I had Mickey, Minnie, Ellie, Puppy Seal (explanation to come), and Blue Blanket ready to go. I loaded my Ipod with songs, audio books and Spanish lessons. I packed 3 books. I found the camera, but not the charger. Where is that damn charger? All I can say is that I do know where it isn’t!!! Then, it was 1:50. 2:00 was my target for taking Merlin to doggie daycare and Mark called. He had just finished a HUGE meeting, HUGE; he was calling to tell me about it. I listened and scrambled to get the kids ready. As soon as I got the high points from Mark I grabbed Merlin and the kids and headed to Puppy Playland. It was 2:15. I raced there and to the post office as we were expecting some checks. Lucky enough, one of them was there, but this meant I had to go to the bank. Mark was home by the time I got there. I left the kids in the car as we loaded everything up.
On the way to the airport I had one “Damn!" moment after another as I recalled all the items I forgot to pack:
1. Ipod
2. Jacket
3. Sweatshirt (I was only wearing a tank top and was planning to bring some layers for the plane and our arrival in Melbourne).
4. Australian hairdryer
5. Laptop
At least I learned my lesson. I cannot pack too early because the extra time gives me this false sense that I can be more thorough.. more organized. That leads to distractions which completely derail ensuring that the essentials have been taken care of. Oh well. We were off to the airport at 3:20, 20 minutes later than planned.
Chapter 3 – Super Puppy
We made it to Oakland airport and on the plane with no real issues, at least none that I can remember. The kids were good, I think. A traveling salesman gave Makena a stuffed dog with a cape. She names everything Puppy ____. For example, Puppy Dog, Puppy Seal (Kessler’s seal is Puppy Seal too) and so on. She had planned to name the dog Puppy dog, but decided instead to take the gift givers recommendation and name him Super Puppy. Afterall, he has a cape. Super Puppy is only worth mentioning because he was her constant companion throughout the entire trip. It was quite cute.
Chapter 4 – Travelatrocity Strikes Again
We arrive in LA three hours before our flight! No problem—plenty of time to eat and relax before catching our direct flight to Melbourne, right? We set off on our trek from the domestic terminal to the international terminal. I was looking forward to the fresh air, until I remembered there is no such thing in LA. After 20 minutes of inhaling various carcinogens-second hand cigarette smoke and carbon monoxide, we arrived at check in. We checked the board—our flight goes to Auckland. How can that be!? He said it was direct; I even checked the Qantas website. I guess since we don’t change planes (even though we are forced to leave the plane) it’s not considered a layover. Wonderful. Feeling a little deflated we headed to the line and were immediately called up to the counter. After several minutes, the agent said—you have an infant. Travelocity didn’t issue a ticket for him. About an hour and a half later, we had one. Imagine waiting there with a one year old and three year old. It was pretty exhausting. We did make it to the gate with just enough time to grab something to eat and get on the plane.
Chapter 5 – Second Worst Flight of my Life
We were given the “bassinet row”. It’s very deceptive. I remember thinking after our last international flight with Makena that the seats were not what they were cracked up to be. It’s tough to believe because you have so much room between the seat and the wall in front-like another 18 inches between your knees and the wall! How could this be bad? As we started to stow our carry-ons, I remembered the first problem. EVERYTHING has to go in the overhead compartments for take-off and landing. This sucks when you have kids. Shortly into the flight, I realized problem number 2—the other seats might have less knee room but you can stretch your legs a far amount under the seat in front of you. With the bassinet row, there’s no stretching. A few hours into the flight I realized dreaded problem number 3—the arm rest contains the TV and tray. Which means they are wider and make the seat smaller. In addition they do not go up, so you’re stuck in a nearly vertical position the entire time. It really makes no difference that we had a forth seat. But, there was a bassinet. And though it was half the size of Kessler he curls up when he sleeps so we were able to use it despite our doubts. To our dismay, Kessler slept in it for 9 hours. Makena, on the other hand, could not get comfortable. She kept sliding out of her seat. Each time she would wake up crying. I ended up holding her for the better part of the flight. She tossed and turned in my arms desperately trying to get comfortable, unable to accept there was no such thing. My shoulders, back, arms, legs, and butt were so incredibly sore. It was a horrendous night which didn’t get any better as the sun caught up to us. Makena wouldn’t eat her breakfast which is pretty normal. She said her stomach hurt. It’s not that we didn’t believe her, it was just that everything was hurting at this point. No surprise that she would be complaining about her stomach. She was quiet for several minutes when Mark asked her if she was okay. No sooner than he got the words out, she was spewing vomit all over the place. She even managed to hit the wall in front of us. We had 2 hours before landing in Melbourne. We cleaned it as best we could and advised the flight attendant. Thankfully, they changed out the seat during our layover in Auckland. Not to be outdone, Kessler decided to follow suit on the flight from Auckland to Melbourne. I’m so glad I packed a change of clothes for the plane!
Chapter 6 – Kessler Almost Killed Grandma
I have absolutely nothing but good things to say about Mark’s family. We were able to see several of his aunts, uncles and cousins from both sides of his family. They were all so genuinely nice and welcoming. It was great. Mark’s grandma was no exception. She seemed to be in pretty rough shape the day we arrived, but on our last day there she looked wonderful. She was going on walks through the hospice and reading magazines. It was really nice to see. She defines resilience.
There was one point, however, when I thought they were going to have to find a room for me. Kessler and Makena were pretty full on the first day. The combination of being way overtired and meeting new people caused them both to be bundles of energy. The exact opposite of me. I spent much of the time finding distractions for them, but I couldn’t keep up their pace. Kessler was walking around Grandma’s room (he’s gotten quite good at it). All of a sudden there was a very loud beeping sound coming from the foot of the bed where he’s standing…..where he’s standing, holding the end of a power cord. Holy shit!!! He’s unplugged her life support, I think and race off down the hallway to find a nurse. By the time we got back to the room (only seconds had passed) Mark had figured out how to stop the beeping. It was just the adjustable inflator for her air mattress. (She wasn’t on life support, but knowing this didn’t stop the panic. Besides that, anything that makes that much noise when turned off had better be providing something essential to providing life or at least be a bomb or something…)
Chapter 7 – No Punishment Suitable
After visiting with several “relies” we headed back to the hotel. We got the kids to bed and I fell asleep on the sofa. Mark convinced me to drag my butt to bed around 7:00. At 8:00 Mark’s uncle called to give us the plans for the following day. At 10:00 Kessler woke up. We were staying in a two bedroom apartment and he and Makena were sharing a room. So, he woke her up. One of us got her settled while the other brought Kessler to our room. We spent a few hours like that before returning Kessler to his crib. What seemed like only seconds later, we started the whole soothing/relocating process again. At 5:00, I heard Makena crying. Kessler was right against me. Desperately not wanting to wake him up I nudged Mark and sent him off to check on Makena. I immediately realized--it's quiet. Hmmm, did she settle already? Ahhh, uh oh, did I ever really hear her cry? Mark returns, she was sound asleep, (never awake) he reports. Kessler started to stir, then he’s completely awake. What had I done?!??!?!?!? There is no punishment suitable for this crime. I mean, really, I deserved to be strung up naked, by my ankles while ex-boyfriends take turns tickling me with feathers as snakes slither across the floor beneath my head. Nothing less than that is what I deserved. Yet, my husband said, “don’t worry about it, it’s okay” and took Kessler to the living room so I could sleep some more. What a wonderful husband and father he is.
Every night after was about the same, except for the phantom child cries I heard. The one night when Kessler didn’t wake up on his own, Makena fell out of the bed and woke him up. Poor kids. And then there was the night that I had to go to the bathroom. Kessler was in bed with us so I waited as long as I could for fear of waking him. At 4:00 a.m., when I could no longer hold it, I started to sneak my way out of bed. I happened to look over and see Kessler and Mark. Kessler was facing me with head in the middle of Mark’s back. His bum was settled perfectly at Mark’s neck and his legs were wrapped on top of Mark’s head. Poor Mark. Upon return, they were both awake. The exhaust fan was too loud. Seeking redemption, I took Kessler to the living room to entertain him while Mark tried to go back to sleep.
Chapter 7 – Good in Theory
Since Mark’s Grandma was doing so well we thought it would be a shame not to make it to Tassie to see his parents, sister and niece. We flew down Friday morning with plans to return Saturday evening. We’d then spend the night at Melbourne airport so we wouldn’t have to get up super early to catch our flight. Good in theory. The flight (our 4th in 5 days) went well. It was only an hour, though it was on an itty bitty plane which is always unsettling to me. Mark’s sister, Julie, his niece, Phoebe and his mom and dad were at the airport to greet us. It was great to see them. We went back to Mark’s parent’s house, ate and hung out. It was really nice. We went to bed pretty early as we were extremely beat. That night proved to be as bad or worse than any night so far. I can’t count the number of times Kessler woke up. When morning rolled around way too early, Mark took Kess downstairs. I got up for a while but had to return to bed. My stomach ached and I felt like I was going to vomit. There were more symptoms, but I’ll spare you the details. The medicine I took finally started to kick in. I still felt awful, but not desperate. We started to think about getting packed up again. About that time Kessler woke up from his nap. He was crying and coughing. Only it wasn’t your average cough. He sounded like a very pissed off seal. Mark’s dad called the on-call doctor who told me that it could be Croup (I would have spelled it Krup had I not looked it up just now). He wanted to know whether his breathing was labored like he was congested or as if his airway was restricted. Uh, I dunno. He explained that Croup can be dangerous for babies and the elderly as it restricts the airway. He wouldn’t recommend flying. Our flight departed from Tassie in 2 hours and the flight back to the US was in 17 hours. So, off to the emergency room we went. From the moment I spoke with the first doctor until the time we left the emergency room, Kessler did not cough once. He made no sounds when he took a breath. Amazing how that works. He was given a clean bill of health and we were assured that flying would not be a problem. We got back to Mark’s parent’s house, packed, and headed to the airport. We arrived 30 minutes before the flight was to depart. (Note here: We went to an emergency room, packed, and caught a flight in 90 minutes. That’s an indication of how small Wynyard, Tasmania is! :) Did I mention the first time I visited Wynyard, they brought our luggage around from the plane on a trailer attached to a lawn mower? I will be struck by lightning if I’m lying.)
Chapter 8 – A Well Laid out Plan
We arrive back in Melbourne and headed to our hotel. It was blowing a gale outside, but other than that everything went smoothly. The hotel was very nice; we decided to stay there for dinner. That proved to be a good choice. We were beat so after we ate we headed to the room for a good night’s sleep! Everyone was finally tucked in and sleeping until 11:00 when we were suddenly awoken by a barking seal. There was no doubt that his breathing was constricted by a narrow airway and not congestion. He was miserable. He threw up several times. I remembered Mark’s mom telling us that steam will help so I turned on all the faucets on in the bathroom. He still coughed. I took him in the shower, but didn’t get him wet. This didn’t work. He threw up again, so I gave him a shower. This worked!! In the meantime Mark had called a 24 hour doctor call-out service. A doctor was on his way. At 12:15 or so we were all settled and back to sleep. At 2:00, it started all over again. This time Mark took Kessler for a shower. It seemed to work again. Mark assumed the doctor wasn’t going to show so we started calling around again. At 2:45 there was a knock at the door! After only a few minutes he confirmed that it was Croup. He said that Kessler was safe to fly. We needed to get a prescription for some liquid steroid that would stop his throat from constricting. If it got really, really bad we could just give him oxygen on the plane and he’d be fine. And well, if that didn’t work, they have adrenaline shots on the plane.. and that’ll fix it. Are you sure? Yes, he said. He also told us that there was a pharmacy at the airport where we could get the steroids. We called the front desk who confirmed that the pharmacy opened at 7:00 or 8:00. The doctor mentioned that he had tablets and he would send up to the room when he retrieved them from his car. He warned us that they are very bitter and the liquid form would go over much better. We gave him $155 and he left. What a wonderful service.. I mean really, what else would we have done?? Our office visits at home are more than $155. Anyway, feeling a bit better after everything we settled back down. Being ever so optimistic I thought, if we can get him to take the tablets, maybe we can salvage the rest of night. So, I crushed the pills and mixed them with sprite. I loaded the concoction into the dropper that came with infant Tylenol we brought from the States. Kess loves that stuff, so there would be no problem getting him to take it. I was right. But what I didn’t anticipate was the projectile vomit that would follow.. all over the bed. We were out of towels to clean up the vomit—so we used a dirty one. Dirty is a relative term.
At 6:00 a.m. I was wide awake. Our flight wasn’t until 10:30, but I didn’t want to risk not making it to the pharmacy. I called the front desk and asked that they send up more towels and off to the races we went. We were at the pharmacy shortly after 8:00. I waited outside. Mark returned with no medicine. The pharmacist prescribed his last bottle this morning. What? What? You have to be kidding me! Nope! Now what? The pharmacist told Mark where the next closest pharmacy was. It opened at 9:00. We went to the check-in counter. Checking in for an international flight takes forever!! Anyway, once we were almost done the agent gave Mark the go ahead to leave. When I was done I headed to the nearest place to get milk. I asked for two cups of milk. I heard her ask, whole or light? One of each, I said. (Kessler drinks whole milk, Makena drinks reduced fat-perfect!) She pours the first then says something like, I suppose you don’t want foam. Ummm.. no, thank you. Then I watch as she heats up the whole milk and the light bulb above my head turns on---hot or cold?, she asked!!! Oh well, what’s done is done. She sees that I have a credit card and tells me that I can’t use it for purchases under $10 and points me in the direction of the ATM. Oh, hell no. What’s the most expensive water you have… she points me to the fridge behind me and says, “the big yellow one.” I grab it and tell her to throw in another COLD milk as well, please. The total reached $9. She said don’t worry about it took my credit card. I had set up camp at one of the tables a few feet away from the counter. I filled up the bottle and sippy cup with the cold milk. Then I thought, if I put the hot milk in one of the sippy cups and add some cold water.. that would be just like room temperature reduced fat milk, right? It’s really against all laws of nature for a mother to throw away milk. So, I proceded with my plan. The mixture enticed Makena. She asked if she could try it. I said sure and she took a few gulps. I asked how it was; she said “good” and continued drinking the cold milk. Cool, I thought as I proudly loaded the other sippy cup into the diaper bag. It’s nice to have a spare! I packed everything up again and headed to our designated meeting spot to wait for Mark. I took a big swig of the remaining water as I looked around for a clock. Only, it’s not just water. It’s lemon flavored water. Makena won’t eat macaroni and cheese, but she thinks room temperature lemon flavored milk taste “good”.
Before I could really start to panic about how many things could go wrong with Mark going to the pharmacy, he turned up, medicine in hand. We even had time for breakfast. Then we were off to Sydney.
Chapter 9 – The Worst Flight of My Life
We had to be bused from one terminal to another in Sydney. It was a pain but we survived. Mark was selected for random screening. We finally made it to the gate as it the flight was boarding. Our seats were not together so we headed to the counter. We had 2 seats in the “bassinet row” and 1 across the aisle. That’s worst than the scenario coming over. I couldn’t bear to put Makena through it again. The other option was 3 seats together. “We’ll take that!”, I exclaim. Mark has doubts. I’ll give the abridged version of the next 13 hours. Crying, vomiting, more crying, tossing, turning, vomiting, more crying. After 10 hours of this, I started to weep, then bawl. We still had 3 more hours on this plane, we had to walk to customs (with no stroller) clear it and collect our luggage. Walk from the international terminal to the domestic terminal to catch our 8th flight in 9 days. I smelled like sweat and vomit and was weak from not being able to eat the day before. All I could think was, Mark’s a good husband. He’ll let me stay in LA tonight while he heads back to SF with the kids, won't he? I mean, if I suggested that we all stay, he wouldn’t want to do it. He’d want to head home anyway… so what’s the harm if I just stay here one night.. one night? I finally pulled myself together. We landed, made it to customs without a stroller, cleared it, walked 30 minutes between terminals while overdressed and breathing carcinogens… made it through the line at the Southwest ticket counter for what seemed like hours and finally boarded our plane. Makena was asleep before the plane left the ground. Mark and I both fell asleep until Kessler woke the one who was holding him, who would then pass him to the other. This continued until Kessler finally fell asleep in my arms. Mark ordered us all drinks only to fall asleep before they were brought back to us. It seemed like we were in the air for 15 seconds before we were landing again. It was probably the best sleep we had the whole trip. We finally landed, collected our luggage and headed home. It’s good to be home.
The End.
Chapter 1 – Travelatrocity
I decided to contact Travelocity to see if we could use the credit we had from the Fiji trip I had to cancel. With much dread, I made the first of my calls. I told the agent that I had cancelled a trip for my family and wanted to use the credit toward another trip. I explained that I was told this was possible but there would be a $200 change fee. The agent asked questions for which I had already given the answers, but I politely restated them. She used way too many words to tell me that she was going to put me on hold while she checked on this. Several minutes later she returned and confirmed that I could in fact do what I said. I explained that I would like to go ahead and well, do what I said. Again, using far too many words, she asked me to hold. Several minutes later she came back to tell me that I could do that. Realizing this cycle of tell her what I want only to be told it’s possible without actually making it possible would never actually garner any tickets, I decided to do what any sane, rational person would do. I thanked her, hung up and immediately called back to speak with someone else.
The second call was similar to the first, but different enough that I felt I could endure it and actually book the tickets. There were way too many thank yous, apologies and soliloquies that preceded requests to place me on hold. He did however return each time with additional information or questions that gave me reason to believe that we were moving forward. I also found out that my tickets were refundable and not exchangeable. Only, it was $500 a ticket to receive the refund. He managed somehow to circumvent the non-exchangeable rule and reissue the tickets. He was insistent though, that if we left Friday evening at 9:00, we would arrive in Australia Saturday morning at 10:20. I wish. You see, when it’s 9 p.m. on Friday in California, it’s already after 10:00 a.m. on Saturday in Melbourne. He also told me that our flight was direct to Melbourne. Nonetheless he was able to get the job done.
Chapter 2 – Packing too Early
I have this thing. I have absolutely no motivation to pack too early. Too early would be the night before, unless it’s an early flight. In that case, it’s not too early provided it is only the night before and not the day before. With our flight from SF to LA leaving at 5:00 p.m., I had a difficult time deciding when I should actually allow myself to be motivated. I decided to let the confusion serve as a catalyst for turning over a new travelling leaf. I started packing around 9:00 a.m. I was doing really, really well. I used the spare bedroom as a staging area. I had all the kid's stuff sorted into neat little piles. I proudly organized their belongings into travel space bags and placed them into the suitcase. Everytime I'd leave the room, I'd look back and marvel at my organizational accomplishment! I nearly had all of my stuff ready to go too. I watered the plants, left checks for the housecleaning and cat sitter. I had the carry-on bags ready to go with food, diapers, wipes, and spare changes of clothes for the kids. I had Mickey, Minnie, Ellie, Puppy Seal (explanation to come), and Blue Blanket ready to go. I loaded my Ipod with songs, audio books and Spanish lessons. I packed 3 books. I found the camera, but not the charger. Where is that damn charger? All I can say is that I do know where it isn’t!!! Then, it was 1:50. 2:00 was my target for taking Merlin to doggie daycare and Mark called. He had just finished a HUGE meeting, HUGE; he was calling to tell me about it. I listened and scrambled to get the kids ready. As soon as I got the high points from Mark I grabbed Merlin and the kids and headed to Puppy Playland. It was 2:15. I raced there and to the post office as we were expecting some checks. Lucky enough, one of them was there, but this meant I had to go to the bank. Mark was home by the time I got there. I left the kids in the car as we loaded everything up.
On the way to the airport I had one “Damn!" moment after another as I recalled all the items I forgot to pack:
1. Ipod
2. Jacket
3. Sweatshirt (I was only wearing a tank top and was planning to bring some layers for the plane and our arrival in Melbourne).
4. Australian hairdryer
5. Laptop
At least I learned my lesson. I cannot pack too early because the extra time gives me this false sense that I can be more thorough.. more organized. That leads to distractions which completely derail ensuring that the essentials have been taken care of. Oh well. We were off to the airport at 3:20, 20 minutes later than planned.
Chapter 3 – Super Puppy
We made it to Oakland airport and on the plane with no real issues, at least none that I can remember. The kids were good, I think. A traveling salesman gave Makena a stuffed dog with a cape. She names everything Puppy ____
Chapter 4 – Travelatrocity Strikes Again
We arrive in LA three hours before our flight! No problem—plenty of time to eat and relax before catching our direct flight to Melbourne, right? We set off on our trek from the domestic terminal to the international terminal. I was looking forward to the fresh air, until I remembered there is no such thing in LA. After 20 minutes of inhaling various carcinogens-second hand cigarette smoke and carbon monoxide, we arrived at check in. We checked the board—our flight goes to Auckland. How can that be!? He said it was direct; I even checked the Qantas website. I guess since we don’t change planes (even though we are forced to leave the plane) it’s not considered a layover. Wonderful. Feeling a little deflated we headed to the line and were immediately called up to the counter. After several minutes, the agent said—you have an infant. Travelocity didn’t issue a ticket for him. About an hour and a half later, we had one. Imagine waiting there with a one year old and three year old. It was pretty exhausting. We did make it to the gate with just enough time to grab something to eat and get on the plane.
Chapter 5 – Second Worst Flight of my Life
We were given the “bassinet row”. It’s very deceptive. I remember thinking after our last international flight with Makena that the seats were not what they were cracked up to be. It’s tough to believe because you have so much room between the seat and the wall in front-like another 18 inches between your knees and the wall! How could this be bad? As we started to stow our carry-ons, I remembered the first problem. EVERYTHING has to go in the overhead compartments for take-off and landing. This sucks when you have kids. Shortly into the flight, I realized problem number 2—the other seats might have less knee room but you can stretch your legs a far amount under the seat in front of you. With the bassinet row, there’s no stretching. A few hours into the flight I realized dreaded problem number 3—the arm rest contains the TV and tray. Which means they are wider and make the seat smaller. In addition they do not go up, so you’re stuck in a nearly vertical position the entire time. It really makes no difference that we had a forth seat. But, there was a bassinet. And though it was half the size of Kessler he curls up when he sleeps so we were able to use it despite our doubts. To our dismay, Kessler slept in it for 9 hours. Makena, on the other hand, could not get comfortable. She kept sliding out of her seat. Each time she would wake up crying. I ended up holding her for the better part of the flight. She tossed and turned in my arms desperately trying to get comfortable, unable to accept there was no such thing. My shoulders, back, arms, legs, and butt were so incredibly sore. It was a horrendous night which didn’t get any better as the sun caught up to us. Makena wouldn’t eat her breakfast which is pretty normal. She said her stomach hurt. It’s not that we didn’t believe her, it was just that everything was hurting at this point. No surprise that she would be complaining about her stomach. She was quiet for several minutes when Mark asked her if she was okay. No sooner than he got the words out, she was spewing vomit all over the place. She even managed to hit the wall in front of us. We had 2 hours before landing in Melbourne. We cleaned it as best we could and advised the flight attendant. Thankfully, they changed out the seat during our layover in Auckland. Not to be outdone, Kessler decided to follow suit on the flight from Auckland to Melbourne. I’m so glad I packed a change of clothes for the plane!
Chapter 6 – Kessler Almost Killed Grandma
I have absolutely nothing but good things to say about Mark’s family. We were able to see several of his aunts, uncles and cousins from both sides of his family. They were all so genuinely nice and welcoming. It was great. Mark’s grandma was no exception. She seemed to be in pretty rough shape the day we arrived, but on our last day there she looked wonderful. She was going on walks through the hospice and reading magazines. It was really nice to see. She defines resilience.
There was one point, however, when I thought they were going to have to find a room for me. Kessler and Makena were pretty full on the first day. The combination of being way overtired and meeting new people caused them both to be bundles of energy. The exact opposite of me. I spent much of the time finding distractions for them, but I couldn’t keep up their pace. Kessler was walking around Grandma’s room (he’s gotten quite good at it). All of a sudden there was a very loud beeping sound coming from the foot of the bed where he’s standing…..where he’s standing, holding the end of a power cord. Holy shit!!! He’s unplugged her life support, I think and race off down the hallway to find a nurse. By the time we got back to the room (only seconds had passed) Mark had figured out how to stop the beeping. It was just the adjustable inflator for her air mattress. (She wasn’t on life support, but knowing this didn’t stop the panic. Besides that, anything that makes that much noise when turned off had better be providing something essential to providing life or at least be a bomb or something…)
Chapter 7 – No Punishment Suitable
After visiting with several “relies” we headed back to the hotel. We got the kids to bed and I fell asleep on the sofa. Mark convinced me to drag my butt to bed around 7:00. At 8:00 Mark’s uncle called to give us the plans for the following day. At 10:00 Kessler woke up. We were staying in a two bedroom apartment and he and Makena were sharing a room. So, he woke her up. One of us got her settled while the other brought Kessler to our room. We spent a few hours like that before returning Kessler to his crib. What seemed like only seconds later, we started the whole soothing/relocating process again. At 5:00, I heard Makena crying. Kessler was right against me. Desperately not wanting to wake him up I nudged Mark and sent him off to check on Makena. I immediately realized--it's quiet. Hmmm, did she settle already? Ahhh, uh oh, did I ever really hear her cry? Mark returns, she was sound asleep, (never awake) he reports. Kessler started to stir, then he’s completely awake. What had I done?!??!?!?!? There is no punishment suitable for this crime. I mean, really, I deserved to be strung up naked, by my ankles while ex-boyfriends take turns tickling me with feathers as snakes slither across the floor beneath my head. Nothing less than that is what I deserved. Yet, my husband said, “don’t worry about it, it’s okay” and took Kessler to the living room so I could sleep some more. What a wonderful husband and father he is.
Every night after was about the same, except for the phantom child cries I heard. The one night when Kessler didn’t wake up on his own, Makena fell out of the bed and woke him up. Poor kids. And then there was the night that I had to go to the bathroom. Kessler was in bed with us so I waited as long as I could for fear of waking him. At 4:00 a.m., when I could no longer hold it, I started to sneak my way out of bed. I happened to look over and see Kessler and Mark. Kessler was facing me with head in the middle of Mark’s back. His bum was settled perfectly at Mark’s neck and his legs were wrapped on top of Mark’s head. Poor Mark. Upon return, they were both awake. The exhaust fan was too loud. Seeking redemption, I took Kessler to the living room to entertain him while Mark tried to go back to sleep.
Chapter 7 – Good in Theory
Since Mark’s Grandma was doing so well we thought it would be a shame not to make it to Tassie to see his parents, sister and niece. We flew down Friday morning with plans to return Saturday evening. We’d then spend the night at Melbourne airport so we wouldn’t have to get up super early to catch our flight. Good in theory. The flight (our 4th in 5 days) went well. It was only an hour, though it was on an itty bitty plane which is always unsettling to me. Mark’s sister, Julie, his niece, Phoebe and his mom and dad were at the airport to greet us. It was great to see them. We went back to Mark’s parent’s house, ate and hung out. It was really nice. We went to bed pretty early as we were extremely beat. That night proved to be as bad or worse than any night so far. I can’t count the number of times Kessler woke up. When morning rolled around way too early, Mark took Kess downstairs. I got up for a while but had to return to bed. My stomach ached and I felt like I was going to vomit. There were more symptoms, but I’ll spare you the details. The medicine I took finally started to kick in. I still felt awful, but not desperate. We started to think about getting packed up again. About that time Kessler woke up from his nap. He was crying and coughing. Only it wasn’t your average cough. He sounded like a very pissed off seal. Mark’s dad called the on-call doctor who told me that it could be Croup (I would have spelled it Krup had I not looked it up just now). He wanted to know whether his breathing was labored like he was congested or as if his airway was restricted. Uh, I dunno. He explained that Croup can be dangerous for babies and the elderly as it restricts the airway. He wouldn’t recommend flying. Our flight departed from Tassie in 2 hours and the flight back to the US was in 17 hours. So, off to the emergency room we went. From the moment I spoke with the first doctor until the time we left the emergency room, Kessler did not cough once. He made no sounds when he took a breath. Amazing how that works. He was given a clean bill of health and we were assured that flying would not be a problem. We got back to Mark’s parent’s house, packed, and headed to the airport. We arrived 30 minutes before the flight was to depart. (Note here: We went to an emergency room, packed, and caught a flight in 90 minutes. That’s an indication of how small Wynyard, Tasmania is! :) Did I mention the first time I visited Wynyard, they brought our luggage around from the plane on a trailer attached to a lawn mower? I will be struck by lightning if I’m lying.)
Chapter 8 – A Well Laid out Plan
We arrive back in Melbourne and headed to our hotel. It was blowing a gale outside, but other than that everything went smoothly. The hotel was very nice; we decided to stay there for dinner. That proved to be a good choice. We were beat so after we ate we headed to the room for a good night’s sleep! Everyone was finally tucked in and sleeping until 11:00 when we were suddenly awoken by a barking seal. There was no doubt that his breathing was constricted by a narrow airway and not congestion. He was miserable. He threw up several times. I remembered Mark’s mom telling us that steam will help so I turned on all the faucets on in the bathroom. He still coughed. I took him in the shower, but didn’t get him wet. This didn’t work. He threw up again, so I gave him a shower. This worked!! In the meantime Mark had called a 24 hour doctor call-out service. A doctor was on his way. At 12:15 or so we were all settled and back to sleep. At 2:00, it started all over again. This time Mark took Kessler for a shower. It seemed to work again. Mark assumed the doctor wasn’t going to show so we started calling around again. At 2:45 there was a knock at the door! After only a few minutes he confirmed that it was Croup. He said that Kessler was safe to fly. We needed to get a prescription for some liquid steroid that would stop his throat from constricting. If it got really, really bad we could just give him oxygen on the plane and he’d be fine. And well, if that didn’t work, they have adrenaline shots on the plane.. and that’ll fix it. Are you sure? Yes, he said. He also told us that there was a pharmacy at the airport where we could get the steroids. We called the front desk who confirmed that the pharmacy opened at 7:00 or 8:00. The doctor mentioned that he had tablets and he would send up to the room when he retrieved them from his car. He warned us that they are very bitter and the liquid form would go over much better. We gave him $155 and he left. What a wonderful service.. I mean really, what else would we have done?? Our office visits at home are more than $155. Anyway, feeling a bit better after everything we settled back down. Being ever so optimistic I thought, if we can get him to take the tablets, maybe we can salvage the rest of night. So, I crushed the pills and mixed them with sprite. I loaded the concoction into the dropper that came with infant Tylenol we brought from the States. Kess loves that stuff, so there would be no problem getting him to take it. I was right. But what I didn’t anticipate was the projectile vomit that would follow.. all over the bed. We were out of towels to clean up the vomit—so we used a dirty one. Dirty is a relative term.
At 6:00 a.m. I was wide awake. Our flight wasn’t until 10:30, but I didn’t want to risk not making it to the pharmacy. I called the front desk and asked that they send up more towels and off to the races we went. We were at the pharmacy shortly after 8:00. I waited outside. Mark returned with no medicine. The pharmacist prescribed his last bottle this morning. What? What? You have to be kidding me! Nope! Now what? The pharmacist told Mark where the next closest pharmacy was. It opened at 9:00. We went to the check-in counter. Checking in for an international flight takes forever!! Anyway, once we were almost done the agent gave Mark the go ahead to leave. When I was done I headed to the nearest place to get milk. I asked for two cups of milk. I heard her ask, whole or light? One of each, I said. (Kessler drinks whole milk, Makena drinks reduced fat-perfect!) She pours the first then says something like, I suppose you don’t want foam. Ummm.. no, thank you. Then I watch as she heats up the whole milk and the light bulb above my head turns on---hot or cold?, she asked!!! Oh well, what’s done is done. She sees that I have a credit card and tells me that I can’t use it for purchases under $10 and points me in the direction of the ATM. Oh, hell no. What’s the most expensive water you have… she points me to the fridge behind me and says, “the big yellow one.” I grab it and tell her to throw in another COLD milk as well, please. The total reached $9. She said don’t worry about it took my credit card. I had set up camp at one of the tables a few feet away from the counter. I filled up the bottle and sippy cup with the cold milk. Then I thought, if I put the hot milk in one of the sippy cups and add some cold water.. that would be just like room temperature reduced fat milk, right? It’s really against all laws of nature for a mother to throw away milk. So, I proceded with my plan. The mixture enticed Makena. She asked if she could try it. I said sure and she took a few gulps. I asked how it was; she said “good” and continued drinking the cold milk. Cool, I thought as I proudly loaded the other sippy cup into the diaper bag. It’s nice to have a spare! I packed everything up again and headed to our designated meeting spot to wait for Mark. I took a big swig of the remaining water as I looked around for a clock. Only, it’s not just water. It’s lemon flavored water. Makena won’t eat macaroni and cheese, but she thinks room temperature lemon flavored milk taste “good”.
Before I could really start to panic about how many things could go wrong with Mark going to the pharmacy, he turned up, medicine in hand. We even had time for breakfast. Then we were off to Sydney.
Chapter 9 – The Worst Flight of My Life
We had to be bused from one terminal to another in Sydney. It was a pain but we survived. Mark was selected for random screening. We finally made it to the gate as it the flight was boarding. Our seats were not together so we headed to the counter. We had 2 seats in the “bassinet row” and 1 across the aisle. That’s worst than the scenario coming over. I couldn’t bear to put Makena through it again. The other option was 3 seats together. “We’ll take that!”, I exclaim. Mark has doubts. I’ll give the abridged version of the next 13 hours. Crying, vomiting, more crying, tossing, turning, vomiting, more crying. After 10 hours of this, I started to weep, then bawl. We still had 3 more hours on this plane, we had to walk to customs (with no stroller) clear it and collect our luggage. Walk from the international terminal to the domestic terminal to catch our 8th flight in 9 days. I smelled like sweat and vomit and was weak from not being able to eat the day before. All I could think was, Mark’s a good husband. He’ll let me stay in LA tonight while he heads back to SF with the kids, won't he? I mean, if I suggested that we all stay, he wouldn’t want to do it. He’d want to head home anyway… so what’s the harm if I just stay here one night.. one night? I finally pulled myself together. We landed, made it to customs without a stroller, cleared it, walked 30 minutes between terminals while overdressed and breathing carcinogens… made it through the line at the Southwest ticket counter for what seemed like hours and finally boarded our plane. Makena was asleep before the plane left the ground. Mark and I both fell asleep until Kessler woke the one who was holding him, who would then pass him to the other. This continued until Kessler finally fell asleep in my arms. Mark ordered us all drinks only to fall asleep before they were brought back to us. It seemed like we were in the air for 15 seconds before we were landing again. It was probably the best sleep we had the whole trip. We finally landed, collected our luggage and headed home. It’s good to be home.
The End.
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