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On the Colorado Trail
We needed to get away from it all and decided to try camping with Joe for a long weekend…on our own. I admit I was a bit nervous about the idea without a support network or Granddaddy Bill’s RV, overnight sitter included. But Dan arranged for us to use his coworker’s permanent trailer, not far from San Isabel National Forest…basically between Buena Vista and Salida. It’s river territory, awash with rafting companies and kayakers, but thatwasn’t an option with our terrible two-ber. So, we decided that the best plan was no plan at all, beyond the intention to do a little sightseeing and easy hiking.
We got a late start on Thursday and left after (instead of before) Joe’s nap. We hit some rush hour traffic, but made decent time. We figured that we’d stop and stretch our legs so that Joe wouldn’t get too antsy. And we had the old standby–Cars–via the portable DVD player we clamped to the back of seat. Joe was cranky about being confined for the “long” car ride, which put everyone on edge, but we made it all the way to the Colorado Trail without stopping. We decided to go for a hike despite the drizzle and muddy path. It seemed like a good idea until Joe tripped over a tree root and the mosquito swarm started. We didn’t make it far before we headed back to the car. With overcast skies, we realized that the light wouldn’t last long, so we blasted through the rest of the drive, stopping only once for gas and to grab a pizza slice in Fairplay. We made it to the trailer just in time to get set up for evening.
Hanging at the river in Salida with daddy
Of course, nothing could be that simple. Joe had energy to burn and wanted to run around. He didn’t go down easily once bedtime came (Dan ended up singing him to sleep), and he woke up in the middle of the night frightened by new surroundings. Not realizing the time, I tossed him in a too-cramped-already-for-us bed, and he kicked and kneed us, and generally did somersalts for the rest of the night. By the early morning hours, we were all pretty bleary-eyed and cranky. We decided to spend our first day scoping out the scene, especially when we realized that Joe had a fever (which somewhat explained his foul mood), so we drove through Buena Vista, infusing ourselves with caffeine (and yummy scones at Bongo Billy’s) and made sure that Joe had a solid dose of kiddo Tylenol. Joe fell asleep in the car, so we headed over to Salida. He woke up by the time we got there (we went the long way) and he played near the river for awhile, climbing on rocks with Dan and slapping the water with a stick. Boy, I had forgotten how cool it can be for a two-year-old to watch leaves float down a river…We walked around town, where Joe tried to open every door and really wanted to check out the “tooools” in the hardware shop. We finally landed at the local toy store and Joe found a super cool large die-cast “tuck”–which, I might add, did not leave his hands the rest of the trip (without a fight). We ended our tour of Salida with a quick lunch at a cafe on the water.
Joe feeding the St. Elmo chipmunks
Joe napped again in the car after we left, so we took a drive to St. Elmo. Joe had a blast feeding the chipmunks…until he decided it was more fun to haul the seeds around in the bed of the truck and make truck sounds while he “drove” the truck all around the boards of the feeding grounds. I’m sure the crowd wasn’t thrilled about our terrible two-ber terrorizing the little rodents, so Dan was able to convincingly lure Joe away from the area to a large rock that was much better for playing trucks. (Whew.) Even though Joe was perfectly content watching the feeding frenzy, he didn’t complain too much about taking a walk through town so that mommy and daddy could see all the old buildings and take some much-needed breaks.
Joe and Dan walking through St. Elmo
If you can negotiate your way past all the ATVers (well, mostly their trucks and trailers) on the drive up the dirt road, St. Elmo is worth the visit. It’s a ”ghost” town that is in the process of being restored and claims to be in the best shape of all Colorado ghost towns. (But it’s still pretty well inhabited, so that had me scratching my head a bit. There’s even a nice guesthouse right when you drive up.) I get the impression from the hundreds of private property/no trespassing signs that the local community has a love-hate relationship with its historic “attraction.”
We ended the day with another round of pizza, but this time it was the good stuff (a yummy veggie combo from family-friend Moonlight. Heads up: their “breadsticks” are like loaves of bread…for a buck). We even managed to enjoy a microbrew on tap before Joe began to totally break down…despite the box of sidewalk chalk they loaned us to keep him busy on the patio. The day ended with all of us collapsing for a decent night’s sleep…and Joe stayed in his own bed until 7am (hooray).
"Hiking" with dada on the Agnes Vailles trail
By Saturday morning, Joe’s fever was still teetering on the edge and his mood was sour, so we decided to do one quick hike before heading back on the road. We loaded up on caffeine and yummies, then went for a hike up the Agnes Vailles Fall trail. We were excited to arrive at the trailhead early, with only two other cars in the lot. But, by the time we unloaded Joe, nine additional cars had pulled in and the hoards (and their dogs) spilled out. Fortunately, we were slow enough that we ended up walking in a lull between crowds. You see, despite the fact that he seemed exciting to go “iking wif dada,” Joe absolutely, resolutely refused to walk. And every single person in those nine carloads (plus several others who pulled into the lot afterwards) knew exactly who we were by the time we reached the end of the .5 mile trail, thanks to Joe’s protests and vocal “exercises.” Dan ended up letting Joe ride on his shoulders (a compromise, since Joe onlywanted to be carried in Dan’s arms). This short hike ended up taking us about 2-1/2 hours, with several stops (in part due to the fact that mommy, in her haste to pack the day we left, forget her inhaler and wasn’t sucking air as quickly as needed). But that also included a long pause at the end of the trail, where Joe scrambled over rocks on his own, once he saw all of the other kids there. Joe napped while we packed up, so Mr. Cranky was very awake by the time we got on the road. Aside from a quick stop at Al’s Pit BBQ (somewhere east of Fairplay, can’t remember the town), we hauled home as fast as speed limits (and really bad drivers) would allow.
Everything seemed “normal” after we arrived home and Joe went down easily, but he just woke up at 10:30 screaming like crazy and in pain. Wish us luck and Joe a quick recovery from whatever this is. You can’t get hand, foot, and mouth disease twice in a row, can you?
A couple of weeks ago, we took Joe to visit Santa Claus. Last year, Joe was fairly skeptical of the jolly old fellow, but this year he was downright terrified the second that Dan set him down on Santa’s lap. We decided to capture the moment (for posterity, of course) and still giggle every time we see it, so thought we’d share.
And don’t worry. Joe wasn’t traumatized. He stopped crying as soon as daddy “rescued” him from the scary fat man’s lap. He got a toy out of the deal and lots of hugs from daddy. (It’s at times like these that mommy just won’t do if daddy’s around…)
Lately, Joe has been exhibiting a lot of stranger anxiety. He is still a bit shy around Dan’s mom, even though he’s seen her several times. In fact, when we visited my family at Thanksgiving, he didn’t want to go to his aunties and wouldn’t even look at Big Daddy (Granddaddy Bill), all of whom he’s spent time with as recently as August. I’m sure it’s just a phase that he’ll outgrow. I guess it’s better than having him befriend strangers!
The last month or so has been a wild ride at our house. Dan’s mom (Nana to Joe) moved out here about the third week of July in the midst of a crazy hot and long heat wave. At the end of the month, we took Joe to the Dragon Boat races on a blistering hot Sunday and ate snowcones while hovering under a lone sparse tree on the opposite side of the lake. (Can you tell it wasn’t my favorite day?) Then, in the middle of August, Dan and I flew with Joe to Reno, rented a car, and drove to Twin Lakes (just outside of Bridgeport) to go camping with my family, where the heat continued unabated. (Global warming sucks.)
In between these adventures, we’ve been working (frantically) on the basement because Dan’s stepmom (Grammie Lo to Joe) was planning to come out for a visit shortly after we returned from our camping trip. Well, the good news is that the guest room was livable by the time she arrived (it had a floor, baseboards, and a bed).
Laura’s visit was nice. She was such a trooper and dragged Joe all around town, to the park, the zoo, and the local deli around the corner. (Rumor has it that Al Gore was spotted in front of the flower shop around the corner from our house while she and Joe were across the street at the park. Unfortunately, they missed him! If that was him… It could have been. There are some muckety-mucks in our ‘hood — well, the nicer part, a few blocks away — including the mayor and an ambassador, maybe? I see those international limos with all the flags every now and then.)
Laura even jumped on the bus to downtown with Joe and ran the gauntlet of security at the Pepsi Center so that she could get a photo of them in front of the “08 DNC” signs (with her local paper). Grammie Lo also taught Joe that the half-dozen stuffed elephants he acquired when he was born (because mommy went on a random elephant hunt — it’s over now) are called “Republicans.” She also threatened to buy him a donkey! He he he. We still can’t understand him, so it will be interesting to see what he calls elephants when he does talk. I can only imagine the looks of bewildered strangers at the zoo when he does make sense!
The last few weeks have been spent helping Nana get situated in her new condo, helping Noni P sell her two houses in California (so far, both are under contract — woo hoo!), and continuing to work on our house. (In addition to finishing the basement, we’ve had a historic window restoration guy tuning up our disfunctional-but-in-good-condition-windows and building new storms, so hopefully we won’t freeze this winter!) Dan had to go to Indianapolis for a few days for a conference a couple of weeks ago. And today, his new boss started at the office! He’s got several more conferences (most local) in the next couple of months. Joe and I will probably accompany him to Breckenridge in early October to see the fall trees. We’re looking forward to that!
When Joseph came into our lives, one of the things that we promised ourselves was to do everything in our power to expose him to other kids in similar circumstances. There’s one obvious place to do that: heritage camp, which is a place for transracial adoptive families to learn more about their kids’ culture and and to connect with other adoptive families. Camps are usually broken into cultural groups, so there’s a Chinese Heritage Camp, Indian Heritage Camp, Cambodian Heritage Camp and so on and so forth; you get the idea.
We’re lucky enough that we have one of the biggie camp organizations right here in our back yard. So, a couple of weeks ago, we drove up to Snow Mountain Ranch (a YMCA camp near Winter Park, CO) for a long weekend of (the 10th annual) African/Caribbean Heritage Camp. Our camp was geared for kids who were adopted either internationally from Africa or the Caribbean, or domestically within North America. There was something for everyone. Altogether there were about 41 families there and I expect that number will grow dramatically next year.
We stayed in one of the lodges at the Y. Some folks camped or stayed in hotels or rental houses nearby, so there were plenty of options. Winter Park was lovely in July and the wildflowers were in bloom, but it saddened us deeply to see the extent of the blight caused by the pine beetle, especially in and past Fraser, Colorado. (Look behind Joe for an example of the dead trees. In fact, the YMCA was doing some serious clearing, which made shade a depressing rarity. Despite this, it was still a wonderful place for camp.)
The camp was parent-run, so it was a little confusing at first for us as newbies. But soon enough, we realized what an awesome experience it is for all family members. I was particularly amazed at the way even shy kids who were first-timers were drawn into the midst of a wild hoard of happy campers in no time flat. Wow, these kids really connected! The camp had parent sessions and kid sessions (broken down by age) as well as recreational activities (like a marshmallow roast – yum!), a marketplace, and all the cool stuff the Y had available (horseback riding, mountain biking, rock climbing, you name it). Joe was still too little to participate in the kids’ programming, so he was either in daycare with some awesome counselors or with us.
This was Joe’s very first “daycare” experience and he really seemed to enjoy it (except for that last day when he was starting to get super clingy and only for daddy, but that’s another story!)…
Here’s a photo of Joe on the first day of camp during lunch. We had arrived late the night of check-in and our room was overlooking a common area in a building where the bigger Cambodian camp was located. Kids ran wild until the 11pm quiet time, and Joe had a difficult time getting to sleep. We would have sent him into the fray if he had been old enough, but we’ll probably try to find another family or two with smaller kiddos to share a cabin next year, then go back to the thick of it once Joe is old enough to run with the crowd.
The food at the dining hall was surprisingly edible (Dan really enjoyed it and there were a ton of options even for picky and healthy eaters). We had no problem feeding Joseph a healthy meal. And the camp-provided lunches were yummy (the second day was an Ethiopian spread).
The parent sessions were pretty good and addressed a number of topics (ranging from adoption to parenting to hair/skincare). There were also parent roundtables and guest speakers/keynotes, who were really interesting and impressive this year: Arthur MacFarlane (grandson of W.E.B. DuBois), who talked about his grandfather’s legacy, and Demetrius Walker, an inspiring young entrepreneur who shared his success story. Hearing from the adult adoptees was also eye-opening and helped us reinforce some of the difficult, but good choices we’ve made.
All in all, it was a successful, if exhausting weekend. We might tack on a couple of days next year and make a real vacation out of it. (There’s soooo much to do at the Y too…) Bottom line: we’ll be at heritage camp until Joe stops going (hopefully he won’t stop and will contribute as an adult alumnus). We owe it to him, and ourselves. If you’ve been considering a heritage camp, all I can say is “GO!” You won’t regret it and your kids will love it! If you’re considering Colorado’s African/Heritage Caribbean Camp next year (the last week in July (23-26, I think), feel free to contact me. I’m actually helping with newcomer coordination next year.
And if you’re wondering why Joe did not wear his camp t-shirt at camp, it’s because it was huge. I mean huge…a child’s extra small, not a toddler size. When we put it on him, he kept falling over because it came down to his ankles. Maybe next year, he’ll get a shirt that fits! OK, and it was pink, which really didn’t bother us (me) much, though I really didn’t want to have to explain that he was a boy (the only boy under 3, I think…oh, he’s gonna have fun when he gets older!)
Every time we travel, something gets left behind or damaged beyond repair: Dan’s prescription sunglasses in Cape Cod, Dan’s new Crocs in Oklahoma, my prescription sunglasses in California; the list goes on, and on, and on…
Our most recent loss was a real tragedy: Joe’s duck blankie. He normally doesn’t sleep without it. It was definitely on the road to woobie-dom and in need of a “vacation” (read: wash). But “Ducky” really was his favorite.
Joe is actually doing okay, all things considered, and we’ve distracted him with other blankies and stuffed animals. Thankfully, after much internet searching, I found a replacement, which is on the way priority mail. It will hopefully fit the bill (no pun intended).
I’m almost wondering if I should order an extra (or two or three). On the other hand, he’ll soon be able to memorize every smudge, mark, and blemish, so I’m not sure if that’s the best solution. But the panic I felt upon realizing that Ducky was gone was quite real, and it made me wonder what other folks do about baby’s favorite animal or woobie. Any suggestions?
Last Tuesday, Dan flew to Seattle on business. Joe and I joined him on Wednesday despite the fact that I had been feeling pretty lousy since the past weekend. (Right now Tuesdays are our only “nanny” days and therefore the only days I can work.)
Getting to the airport was a little challenging. (I really need to relearn how to pack light. I used to be so good at it.) Thankfully we discovered that we live all of 5 minutes from a major RTD transfer station with a direct bus to the airport. Faster, easier, cheaper. Can’t beat that. (A great option for visitors too…hint hint.)
Joe, as usual, was an angel on the plane and was zonked out before we got off the ground. Ditto the return trip, despite the brood of screamers behind us.
The trip was a nice getaway even if I was laid out in the hotel room the first couple of days. We still had the chance to order terrible (and terribly overpriced) room service food and watch Lost.
When I did feel better, we strolled the waterfront and compared dive fish-and-chips joints. (Yeah, those sushi bar plans flew out the window when we realized how difficult it would be to take Joe into a nice restaurant.) We took the obligatory (and fun) jaunt through Pikes Place Market and watched the fish throwers. 
We walked around the grounds by the Space Needle. Joe was pretty active and wanted to push the stroller anytime we weren’t en route somewhere, so we tried to indulge him as much as possible.
On Saturday, we stumbled across a great “Spirit of West Africa” event at the Seattle Center. Joe was absolutely captivated by the Nigerian drummers and stood on Dan’s lap — dancing and clapping — for a good 20 minutes. Anyone with boys knows how rare it is for an 11-month-old to do *anything* for 20 minutes straight, so now I’m absolutely convinced that we need to start taking Joe to music classes…and soon.
Overall, a good trip. I’m just not sure Joe is going to make it until age 2 as a “lap infant.” He’s going to need his own seat soon. Man, that kid weighs a ton!
A random aside: I’ve traveled to Seattle in the past and really loved it. But if this had been my first trip, I’d be singing a different tune. I’m not sure if this trip was tainted by my lousy disposition since I was under the weather or if we had bad people karma or if the ever-present downtown construction had everyone’s panties twisted in a wad or what. Folks were generally rude and grumpy…locals and tourists alike. There were several instances where people completely ignored me visibly struggling with luggage, strollers, and doors. No one offered help except one guy walking into the grocery store opened the door for me and the paid staff at the hotel we stayed at did too. (Other people cut me off and would get in my way as I was trying to push the door open and get the stroller through at the same time. Incredible.) I had a really bad experience with the shuttle driver from the airport. (I should file a complaint with Grey Line, but probably won’t; the driver on the way back to the airport was really nice.) I hesitate to say that the transracial nature of our family had anything to do with it given the diversity and liberalism in Seattle, but we did get an unusual number of scowls.
Little man Joe is walking most of the time that he’s on the loose. Up until now, he made attempts to walk a few steps (his max has been about 22 steps) and then crawled the rest of the way at super speed. Dan and I could hardly keep up with him when he was on all fours.
Yesterday that balance shifted in favor of walking. I wasn’t feeling too hot and Joe was getting bored with the walker. So, I brought him in our room, made sure it was safe, and set him standing on the ground while I laid on the bed to sooth my upset stomach. Joe stayed upright, wobbled a bit, took a step, and grinned. Then off he went. Walking like a drunk, but walking. And he really didn’t stop. If he was wobbly, he’d just pause, teeter forwards and backwards until he stayed himself, then continue to move along. When he fell, he simply stood up on the spot, regained his balance, and kept on going. It seemed as if only as a last resort he’d crawl a few feet to the nearest handhold, heave himself up, and then off he’d go again.
Joe is now able to turn in a different direction while walking, bend over to pick up something then stand up again, and pull, throw, and make a general mess of things all in the upright position. I’m still not sure whether to be excited at this new development or terrified about what’s to come as his mobility and personality develop in sync. For example, the door to our closet doesn’t latch and, since Joe has an infatuation with doors, he made a beeline for the only door that he could play with. Open. Shut. Open. Shut. Open. Shut. Joe teetered the arc of the door this way and that, and was having a ball. It didn’t take him long, however, to find more entertainment inside the closet. Over the weekend, we installed a shelving system and organized our bazillions of pairs of shoes (yes, Dan has as many or more than I do, even if they are primarily Crocs). Within seconds, Joe had every shoe from knee-height down (translate=my shoes) strewn across the closet floor. I pried away a sandal he decided to chew on, cleaned up the mess, shut the door as much as I could, and tried to distract him. Not a half-hour later, he rediscovered the shoes again and thought that tossing them around the closet was a real riot. I finally learned that there was no need to put them away again unless I was certain he was done playing that game. Not a big deal, but also probably only the tip of the wild man iceberg.
What really has me nervous is tomorrow. We’re flying again. Alone. Dan left for Seattle today; Joe and I will join him tomorrow. We’re staying on the 19th floor and our room has a balcony. Talk about nerve wracking experiments in parenting. I’m keeping the kid strapped to my chest with the Baby Bjorn carrier for the rest of the week!
Joseph and I are headed to the Bay Area to help Noni P pack up her stuff for the big move to Colorado. Woo hoo! (Dan has a crazy busy work schedule, and is in the middle of physical therapy, so he can’t go.) We decided to extend the trip and stay with Dan’s folks so that I could work on campus for a couple of days (for those who don’t know, I work at Cal, remotely of course) and let Joe get in a good visit with the grandfolks.
I had an interesting booking experience. I was committed to not fly on United (I explain why below) and I found a killer deal on Southwest Airlines. I booked it and then called in to add Joe as a lap infant to my ticket as I’ve done for all previous flights. I was floored when I was informed that I needed to arrive “early,” stand in line at the ticket counter, and fill out a triplicate form. There was no way around this. I would also need Joe’s birth certificate. I tried to explain that Joe was in the middle of an adoption and his birth records are sealed; we couldn’t bring a birth certificate as we had no access. The best I could do was bring a court order giving us custody, but Joseph’s name wasn’t on the paperwork. There was some confusion about whether or not his shot records might suffice.
I asked again and again why this was necessary since every other airline only requests a name and birthdate over the phone, then allows you to print out a boarding document online and go directly to the gate. Southwest officials, including a supervisor, indicated that this was their policy, a security procedure, to account for everyone on the plane. I declared that the entire process was ridiculous, archaic, and family unfriendly. They offered to refund the ticket and I took them up on it.
After our last experience with United (read my original post from September below), I booked a flight on Frontier, which has the most family-friendly ticketing policy I’ve found to date. They actually have a lap infant selection for their online booking system, so I was able to book Joe (for free) at the same time I booked my flight. I called in just to be sure. They said as long as there wasn’t a question about his age (under 2), then we wouldn’t need any additional documentation. His boarding pass would print out with mine, which would get us through security, then we could proceed directly to the gate. The extra $30 fare was worth it. And the flight times were much better for Joe’s schedule. We leave on Wednesday!
The truth about our last flight experience.
I didn’t post the following excerpt last September because I didn’t want to rant at the time. But given our recent booking experience, I thought it might serve as a bit of humor and a warning for parents not used to traveling with kids in tow:
September 5, 2007, Denver, CO — Since baby Joe is a seasoned traveler, another plane ride to California was as easy as pie over Labor Day weekend. At least for Joe. Mommy and Daddy were a bit more frazzled. First the shuttle from the parking lot nearly side-swiped our car, then the same shuttle driver ignored Dan and his 6 bags while I got on the shuttle. When ol’ Jesus tried to tell Dan he’d have to take another shuttle, that didn’t go over so well. Let’s just say that Dan got on board with our luggage. And we all made it to the terminal just fine, even Jesus. Security was a breeze.
At the gate, we went to board and were told to wait (we had seating number 4). I knew that United had changed its policy about families with small children, but the gate attendant on our last flight let us pre-board. She must have been sympathetic to first time traveling parents. Not this time. No siree. You see, United no longer allows families with small children to pre-board. Nope. Those first-class and priority members need to sit on a hot plane for 25 minutes while the families struggle with carseats and strollers and diaper bags, not to mention the fussy kids. Um hm. That makes sense. We were told that there are too many families with small children who now travel to allow them any kind of special preference. But I squeeked loud enough in front of everyone that she let us on after the first boarding.
The cherry on top? The flight wasn’t full, so the gate attendant told us to go ahead and take the carseat on board and use either of the middle seats in our row. (Dan and I both wanted aisle seats, so we got them in the same row, but across the aisle.) Then we realized that there were folks sitting at both windows. I offered to switch with the guy on Dan’s side just to be polite not make him suffer through “baby on board.” Only once we were settled in did the stewardess (no, I won’t dignify her by calling her a flight attendant, you’ll see why) come by to tell us that FAA policy demands that the carseat be placed in the window seat. I said that we hadn’t even booked the window and I’d rather sit in my assigned aisle seat if that was the case. But she said that, no, it didn’t matter that we hadn’t booked a window; someone would have to switch with us. (So glad that we upgraded and paid extra for the aisle seats with legroom and then were so considerate of our neighbors.) Apparently the carseat in the middle seat blocks the row and the person at the window can’t get out (despite the fact that I walked to my seat on the other side of the carseat without removing it. Hmmm…).
This same stewardess was “helping” a late arrival find a place for her carry-on. And rather than physically lifting the older woman’s bag, she raised her voice and said, “will someone help put this bag up?” I’m all for helping other people and being a friendly neighbor in general, but the stewardess was right there next to the woman. And, um, I don’t remember getting paid to work on this flight — quite the opposite. The old lady looked flustered (or pissed, I’m not sure) and heaved her own bag up (though two gentleman seated nearby did make the effort to help).
De-boarding was just as fun. Dan rushed Joe to the bathroom for a needed diaper change while I waited for our gate-checked stroller. Two employees in the jetway rudely asked me to move out of the way of the door where the gate-checked bags arrive. I complied, sort of, just to avoid a scene. (By this time, I was in a splendid mood and figured it was better to avoid an all-out brawl.)
When the stroller finally arrived, these two guys had to move away from the door, so I stood right there in the middle of the jetway blocking them from whatever important duty they had (I think they were waiting for the plane to de-board). I calmly removed the stroller from the bag, opened the stroller, folded the bag, packed it in the stroller compartment, and eventually went on my way. They were mightily irked, but I was oddly satisfied that I stood my ground.
Way to go United. Treat those of us already frazzled from getting the kids to the airport like we’re second class citizens. Getting us adults all bent out of shape really helps us to have patience with our cranky kids. And that really does wonders for their moods too. A great flight experience for everyone on board, no doubt. Next time, we’re flying Southwest.
Baby Joseph is turning into a regular jetsetter these days. I wish he could earn air miles like we do! (But given that he flies free as a “lap infant,” that’s good enough for now.)
We went to visit the grandfolks in So Cal for Labor Day weekend. There were no big adventures in the air (or getting there). Joe watched the airplanes taxi in and out of the terminals and our flights were all on time. As usual, Joe was an absolute angel on the plane ride. I’m crossing my fingers that he’ll be accustomed to the how-to of air travel as he gets older so that he won’t be as fussy as some of the kiddos we’ve witnessed, but I’m not holding my breath; instead I’m enjoying the ease of it all now. (Although I’ve got to say that United is not family-friendly and we’re definitely going to try other airlines on future flights, but no ranting now.)
While in Riverside at Grandma Debbie’s and G-dad’s house, Joe went swimming, met his great grandparents (Nonie, Grandma and Grandpap), and aunts and uncles and cousins galore. Boy, did he have a blast! So did Dan and I, especially when we got the day off on Saturday to do whatever we wanted. We were so dumbfounded by this unexpected freedom that, after a quick pampering, we mainly drove around in circles looking for boba (tapioca pearl) drinks. But it was glorious to have a break from the daily grind.
Although we haven’t been updating the blog much lately (we’re heavy into the house hunt, more on that in another post), we have been uploading photos to Flickr. Even if you haven’t visited the blog lately, be sure to check out our photo stream. There are a bunch of photos of Joe hanging out with the family over the weekend, our travels and, of course, more photos of Joe. We may be biased, but he sure is darned cute!
On Saturday, we drove 13 hours straight (minus potty and chow breaks). It was a long day and we’re still pooped, but we’re…home. Baby Joe was such a trooper while we were on the road, but the long trip without a lot of wiggle room left him mighty uncomfortable once we got home. It turns out he was constipated, gassy, and congested. So last night, JoJo had his first back-arching, ear-piercing screaming fit. We finally calmed him down, then called the nursery at the hospital to get the ok to give him some gas drops and suggestions for other comforting treatments (they recommended dark karo syrup for the constipation). But it was 12:45am and we didn’t have either, so Dan made a midnight trip for meds. Joe and I were both passed out by the time Dan got home, but we at least gave him the gas drops and he seems to be feeling a bit better. We, on the other hand, are still recovering, so more photos will be coming later in the week.
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