Airplane Outtakes

I got in from an incredible weekend in Washington late last night, and I have to say, there’s something about traveling via air that is really interesting.  When I saw the man next to me pull up his knee high socks and put his shoes back on after spending a three hour flight barefoot yesterday, I decided that before I write anything at all about the weekend, I’ve got to write up some airport bloopers because the whole experience could not go unmarked. 

Air travel is just too removed from my everyday, and it was begging to get some attention.

First of all, I have a love/hate relationship with flying.  I love getting somewhere in two hours that would take two days driving.  I hate being tied up in departure times and fees and security check-in and take off your shoes or we’re going to pull out your fingernails one by one and DO IT NOW.

So any time I fly, I’m stuck in this sweaty-palm vs butterflies in the belly quandary, vacillating between “I will be somewhere awesome before lunch” and “if I don’t get to gate D7 in the next fifteen seconds the world will stop on its axis”.

The saga begins:

It all starts at the gate while you are waiting to board the plane.

Wow, really?  All those people just pulled in on that plane, walked off, and you are ready to board us onto the same aircraft RIGHT NOW?  Are you joking? What about all the Clorox and hazmatting?  I know you haven’t had time to wipe down all those seats and arm rests and replace the SkyMall magazines with fresh inventory sans wadded up gum and previous flight contaminants.  You are sentencing us to at least one communicable disease, you know.  I’m just saying.  There isn’t enough Airbourne in the world, folks.  

That voice in the ceiling really needs to STOP it.  Let’s get some hand delivered notes up in here because its getting old hearing about Craig's  bag and how he needs to come back to Gate G3 because he got it mixed up with another passenger's.  Craig?  Where are you?  This is making me crazy.

Then you board the plane, scrambling to find a place to stash your bags, and I've got news:  it doesn't get any easier.

Whoa.  Whats with the crazy eyes?  Aren’t you the lady that is suppose to help me find a place to safely stow my bag in the overhead bin?  I mean, didn’t the voice in the wall just tell me to ask you for help if my bag doesn’t fit under my seat?   Why are you hating on me?  I’m just trying to play by the rules.

The drama continues with the general blanket awkwardness of flying with people you don’t know.

First of all, why are you sitting next to me?  This is like a movie theatre.  Don’t sit next to me.  Also, don’t talk to me or look at me or do anything beyond the initial head nod and smile required to verify that you are not a creeper or a psycho.  

Why are you falling asleep?  What am I suppose to do when your head hits my shoulder and your snores break the sound barrier and render my headphones void?  Stop sleeping.

Are you seriously closing that window?  Really?  That’s a total party foul, man.  We are flying over mountains here.  Mountains not all of us get to see everyday.  If you are going to ask me to stand up in my seat so you can get up and go to the bathroom, you need to play by the rules and not waste a window seat.  Dude, open. the. window.

No, thank you, I do not want another Coke.  Another Coke is going to push me over the edge, and people were not made to use the restroom 35,000 feet in the air.  It goes against nature.  First of all, everyone knows how long you’ve been in there because there is a line stacked down the airplane aisle waiting for their turn and a posse waiting for you to ask them to move so you can get back to your seat who you have to sit with for the rest of the flight.  Not gonna happen.  Second of all, who says you’re not going to get sucked into that thing and spit out somewhere over North Dakota?  Not willing to risk it, baby.  Thankyouverymuch.

Please don’t talk to me.  Just don’t. I know this could potentially be a fabulous opportunity for us to pour our souls out to one another and really connect on a heart-level, but seriously, the flight attendant just gave me the crazy eyes, and I'm afraid to use the bathroom.  So you really don’t even have to say hello as long as you gave me the verifying nod and smile.  You’re not crazy, I’m not crazy, let’s put on our headphones and pretend like we’re not breathing the same air and sharing an armrest.  

Also, don't look at me.  Please.  I swear I look better than this in real life.  Flying makes me haggard and takes a lot out of me.  I haven’t even taken any instagram pictures since I entered the airport because it is a law of nature that everything is going to go kaput as soon as I pass the airport threshold. Don’t judge.  We’re all just hanging on by a thread.  Don’t you know if you have to go to the bathroom you could get dumped out on Mount Rushmore?  

Um, I want my mom.  This is too stressful.  I would ask for a drink, but they could be serving Seven Daughters, and we all know how that story ends.  

Tell me I’m not alone in this.  At least not all of it.

Bueller? .......Bueller?..........Bueller?...........

Washington Bound

Last time I took off on a jet plane I was with these two goofballs:

And I'm going to miss them like crazy when I leave tomorrow.  Especially the Hubs' stellar airport navigating skills.  Am I the only one who gets a tight throat and sweaty palms at the thought of finding the gate for my connecting flight?  The time constraint, the need for a bathroom break between stops (I have a love for in-flight Cokes and some serious reservations about using a toilet 10,000 feet up in the air. Its a bad combination), the incessant voice in the ceiling asking you all these questions about your bags and who's touched them, and all while you're still halfway across the airport from the plane that's suppose to take you to your final destination....its enough to send a girl into a fit of hives.  

I'm always a basket case before I fly, and having the Hubs there to lead the way takes a good amount of the crazies away, but they are FULL BLOWN today folks, because tomorrow homegirl will be flying solo.  

(Appropriately, Newbie is shouting "DOC-TOR!" at the top of his lungs over my shoulder as I write this.  Has he picked up on his mother's pre-flight condition?! )

Despite having clammy hands over navigating the airport tomorrow, I'm looking forward to a weekend retreat across the country to talk about my sweet Jubi girl and hear from other women who have been there.  Or maybe just hug them.  I'm not kidding, if all we did all weekend was hug, I'd be cool with it.   Because there's just something about women who have been there.  They are kinda my heroes, and I'm looking forward to spending the weekend with them....even if I don't know who they are yet. =)  

Leaving this little bug and his daddy isn't easy, and traveling alone isn't my best game, but I've got a stack of books, a pack of gum, and a box of granola bars that are telling me you're gonna make it, kid.  And I think they might be onto something.

I'm so thankful for this opportunity to visit the west coast and spend the weekend with a wonderful woman (can't wait, Aunt Janet!!!) and a group of ladies who know. whats. up.

Washington, here I come!

(Hey, Champ.  I'm going to miss you!)

Happy weekending, friends!

The Pumpkin Bomb

Newbie and I visited the "punt-kin patch" today and brought home two wagon loads of pumpkins, several bags of gourds, and a bundle of cornstalks.  The Pumpkin Lady knows how to work a bargain, and she done hooked us up again this year.  

High on the fumes of cornstalks and acorn squash, we may have squeezed in a trip to our favorite orchard/donut/cider spot on the way home.  Because there's no such thing as too much autumn fun in one day. 

We also may have splurged the extra 99 cents on the plastic apple sippy cup.  (FYI: cider tastes better coming from a plastic apple.)  

And we may have snagged a dozen pumpkin donuts with cream cheese icing.  

Newbie may have challenged my loyalty to the pumpkin donut with cream cheese icing when he ordered a caramel apple crisp donut.  What. was. happening?! 

Its entirely possible that, after recovering from my son's obscure choice in fall donut-age, we left the orchard and used the donut plunder to Pumpkin Bomb my sister's house on our way home.  We probably ding-dong ditched her with a coupla donuts and a cornstalk.   Then we probably did the whole thing over again at my mom's.

Pumpkin Bombing was fall-tastic, baby.

Got laundry to do?  Go Pumpkin Bomb someone. Its way more fun. ;)

(Grandma and G-Pa, you're next.  When we get more donuts.  Because we ran out. They don't last long under my watch.... have you had those things?!?)

Happy Tuesday!

Of another run and gypsies

I went for another run today, and I have never been more excited to be interrupted.  Someone hollered at me from a driveway halfway through my run.  She caught me on the front end of my run which is the only reason I can fathom why she shouted, "You're inspiring me!" The front end of the run always looks better than the back end because you're not yet being pulled by the jogger stroller- at the beginning it still looks like you are in control.  When I heard her I yelled back "don't be too inspired- its only my third run in four months! [huff, puff, huff, puff]" and then upon further scrutiny, I realized she looked familiar, and I stopped to tell her so.

Which was awesome because we spent ten minutes figuring out how we knew each other (from a long term sub job three years ago) and that was ten minutes off my run that I couldn't get back because I had to make lunch and get Newbie down for a nap.

So like I said, don't be too inspired. =)

But a twenty minute run is longer than a zero minute run, so I'm counting it as progress.  At one point during the run, when I was feeling particularly gumpy and sluggish, I remembered that quote from Pinterest that says, "no matter how slow you're running, you're still going faster than everyone on the couch" and I was all "HECK YES I AM!" and that got me through the last leg of the endeavor and also justified the numerous hours I've spent on Pinterest.  So overall, even cut 10 minutes short, it was a complete win.

***
We had a turn-normal-upside-down weekend: the Hubs spent the weekend on a trip with his dad and uncle up north while Newbie and I spent the weekend as gypsy children.  We spent Friday night with my MIL, Saturday at the mall, and Saturday night at my parents'.  We had a lot of fun family time, but we were happy to be under our own roof with the man of the house again last night.  We had a snuggly evening together, and the little man was the Hubs' constant shadow.  I think he missed his daddy more than just a little bit.

(After dinner I caught them flipping through Cabela's catalogs together- ha!)

Today I find myself on some kind of nesting bender.  I leave for the Love and Loss conference soon (hooray!) and I'm working like mad to get meals planned and laundry done and projects finished before I leave. Going out of town sure makes me productive... maybe I should try it more often. =)

Here's wishing you a snuggly fall Monday!

I went for a run/walk/walk/walk/run?/walk/trip/walk/run

I hit an all-time personal low today in the jean department at the mall.  So naturally, after a fabulously orchestrated pity party and several phone calls to my girlfriends, I went running this afternoon.

When I say "I went running" please read: "I went walking/jogging/stumbling/walking/walking/dying?/walking/jogging/walking". Its never pretty, folks.  And I don't know why I feel like going for a run is some kind of monumental occasion worthy of blogging about, but I guess it just speaks to the lack of excitement over here today.  It was my run or the ten dollar corduroy pants I found for Newbie at Old Navy, and writing about the pants only served to emphasize Newbie's 2T waistline which I'm not really willing to wallow in.  Oh, to be 29 pounds again.  

This afternoon I strapped Newbie into the jogger stroller because there was no way homeboy was going to keep up with me I was going to keep up with him.  Boy has wheels. 

Here we are pre-run.  Clearly, all ambition and no pain.

The jogger stroller has a fabulous speaker feature that I can plug my mp3 player into and it plays my music out loud for Newbie and I (and the neighborhood) to enjoy.  I set it to my Jubilee playlist and we took off.

The warm-up and the first 30 seconds of running to follow weren't bad.  Then things kinda went downhill.

It was brutal.  At one point, I tasted steel and was all "oh my gosh, my lungs are bleeding!" then reasoned, "or maybe the cut in my forehead is bleeding backwards".  Because that can happen.  Running messes with me, man. Seriously.

Turns out it was just a good case of a not-runner lady running. No blood, don't worry.

When we reached the playground, I set Newbie loose to show off what endless energy and endurance looks like, and I enviously slumped onto the bench and drank an ocean of water.  Then I got up and got my squats on.  Because the Hubs works out in the park all the time, and I thought maybe it wasn't as crazy as it sounded.

It was totally as crazy as it sounded.

After three cars drove by, I was 15 squats in and decided to finish up back at the house.  Because quite frankly, I was a little gun shy after the Hubs critiqued my form (at my request) yesterday, and nothing was worth the humiliation.  I told Newbie we had to hit the road or he would have to carry his momma home.

Another interesting feature on the jogger stroller is the wrist strap.  You stick your hand through a looped belt, and the belt is attached to the handles of the stroller- all in case you get into a runaway train situation and need to stop the stroller.  On the way home, my legs were giving out, and I was convinced if I let go of the stroller handles, I would literally flap in the breeze, tethered to Newbie's stroller, banging the concrete like a tin can on the back of a Just Married Volkswagen.  I powered through, but I'm telling you, it was a close one.

When we got back to the house, surprisingly in one piece, we hit the backyard for some down time and five burpees (these horrendous things that require you to lie on the ground then do a push-upish move, then squat, then jump up in the air and then do it all over again and again and again).  I only pounded out five because that's all homegirl had left in her after the near tin-can experience with the jogger.

(The boys fought over twigs while my face melted off.  I was powerless to intervene on account of the post-workout jelly effect- you know, when all extremities turn to jelly and you wonder if you'll ever be able to get yourself up off the ground.) 

And it was all in the name of September and my pull-it-together-Francine.  Because you can only sit inside so long and wish the baby-weight away and the baby back before you realize you're going to have to up and do something about it.  And chocolate doesn't help.  I've already tried that.  ;) 

Another item on my September get-it-together list is meal-planning and dinner serving.  Which means I have to get crackin' because its broccoli cheddar soup tonight, and I'm intensely committed to chopping the broccoli impeccably well because nobody likes a massive chunk of green in their soup.  So its off to the cutting board.

Here's wishing you a happy September Wednesday! 

Of pumpkins and nutmeg and making it count

My home team is making every day a Jubilee day.  Its kind of been our thing since sometime last November, and we perfected it with an Oreo party last February. Its a good time and comes highly recommended by my people. =)

Lately, we've been shouting for joy and making each moment count while we welcome fall:

Football afternoons with Daddy-O...

(They take their football very seriously.)

A pumpkin-studded trip to the gardens this weekend...

(Apparently I already embarrass him...)

(More evidence to file under the embarrassment theory...."enough with the pictures already, Mom!"

Baking pumpkin bread with my sidekick this morning...

(We took these pictures with the remote detonator.  Maybe that's not the real name, but its a remote with one button and it snaps the camera...it feels awfully fancy!  Can you spy the master clicker in this photo? Pssst....its in Newbie's hand.)

(Check out the notch above my eye- the glue came off (tmi alert!), and it already looks sooooo much better than last week!)

(ta-dah!)

And some post-nap outside fun before the autumn rain sent us running inside today...

(Somebody's still a yiddle schweepy!)

(Did you think Opie went off to greener pastures?  He hasn't made a cameo in a while, but he's still very much here!)

Now we're snuggled up in sweatshirts on the couch, Newbie looking over my shoulder, leaning into my arm and making it ridiculously difficult to type while he points and requests that I replay "Winnie the Pooh" by Zooey Deschanel in iTunes in between exclaiming, "yook at me!  I a yiddle baby!" with every picture I pull up to upload.  Lots of "ut dat?" (translation: what's that?) sprinkled in there too...along with the recent declaration: "I need a moo-bee on the tee bee now, Mom."   Uh, not happening.

I lied. Not about the TV, but about the "on the couch".  We're back outside now because the rain has stopped and a little boy wasn't too keen on entertaining himself while Momma finishes her blog post. =)  Sometimes I let "outside" do the work for me...little boys never get tired of the dirt!

Lest you think our Jubilee days are all baking and playing and drinking up every last drop, here's the truth: while I love to make every moment count and find joy in everything, there are always the moments that slip through the cracks, and the home team has far from perfected this new way of living. I'm still wrestling to get a blog post up in the busy of the day, and currently there's no dinner in the oven and the laundry isn't done and I'm not sure if the brown clods I see Newbie carrying in his hands are rocks or.....something else. (eish) Just thought I'd keep it real amidst the flattering snippets of everyday life I shared above.  It ain't all pumpkins and nutmeg, folks! ;)

Good news: I just got a close up and I can confirm that they were indeed rocks.  Phew.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go on backyard patrol because a little curious George is up to no good with the empty fire pit.  I won't tell his daddy if you won't.

Happy Tuesday, friends!

My Map

This morning Newbie helped me make our annual Its Fall Y'all! pumpkin pancakes.

"Mommy, I help.  I do it."

He makes a committed, albeit handsy, assistant chef.  Brother hung in there for the duration of the baking, and was all about trying to mix the batter with his fingers.  "Git yer hands outta there, Honey- that's raw egg, and I can promise you its not gonna taste good."

When I dumped the pumpkin in he declared, "Mmm...dat schmells good to me! Yeah, it does!"

Yes, I laughed my way through the pancake making this year. =)

As soon as the fall-tastic flapjacks were done and he had pulled his daddy out of bed on this rare daddy-gets-to-sleep-in-while-we-make-pancakes Saturday, Newbie jumped right up to his plate. (Being the early bird I am, I'm not super great about letting the Hubs sleep in because HELLO, you're missing all the fun and awesomeness of MORNING! Today was a special treat for the Hubs- sleeping in AND pumpkin pancakes??? What was happening?!)

Shortly after the above pic was taken, the little man got a Cool Whip upgrade:

Then it was coffee time.  Newbie also helped me make the coffee this AM, so naturally he needed his mug with the standard Newbie-portion: four drips of coffee.  

("Mmm-ahh...I lub dis.  I lub dis, man.  I lub it coffee.  I lub dis mug.")

When Opie starts licking the tootsies peeking out through your Yightning McKeen jammies, its a really good time.

(Insert rolling laughter followed by: "Opie yick it my toes!" here.)

It was a slow, lazy Saturday morning for us followed by a slow, lazy Saturday.  Yum.  I relished the ease of today because my mind has been in a thousand places lately.  I've been thinking a lot about our Jubi girl and missing her so, so much. 

Tonight I sat on the couch, thinking about the gaping cut in my forehead and the way I'm watching it work to heal a little bit more each day, slipping back some days, and pressing forward others.  It reminded me of my aching heart and the ebb and flow that comes with healing.  The happy one moment, the hurt the next.  Sometimes it can all be so disorienting- the back and forth between the hurt and the healing. 

In those moments when it gets overwhelming all over again and I can't see the step ahead, I find myself replaying what I know and clinging to what she taught us- replaying it over and over again in my head until it sinks down into my heart and I find my way to the next breath. He is good.  He is faithful. He is love.  Every moment is a gift.  Tell Him thank you. Make every moment count.  Shout for joy to the Lord! Its my map, its my mantra.  Its what I do when I don't know what to do.  Her story, compressed into a small map of the most important parts, like a treasure I keep in my pocket and touch with my fingertips when I get lost to remind me of where I've been and where I'm going.

He is good. 

He is faithful.

He is love.

Every moment is a gift.

Tell Him thank you.

Make every moment count.  

Shout for joy to the Lord!

And when I follow the map, that next breath comes, and my heart starts to beat again, and then my eyes find the way to blink again, and then my feet find the next step, then the next, and I am knowing and thanking and living, really living again.  I am drinking deep and it is well with my soul. 

Drinking deeply of today and wishing you a blessed Sabbath this weekend, friends.

(My precious reminder to drink deep and make each moment count.  This little guy?  Bright-eyed and eager every morning, everything new, all he knows is now, and I adore him for it.)