I find myself constantly looking at the sky when I am in Colorado. It is just so darn big, blue, and beautiful! I never really noticed this when I was growing up there, but realized it after living in LA for awhile, which can feel sky-less sometimes. My trip to Denver last week was no different and not only did I get to enjoy the great wide open, but experienced many other highs and one big low!
BEST
Taking Mr. Tavian Babyhead to visit the family in good ol' Wheat Ridge was very important. He met his Great Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, for the first time, and had some QT with Grandma and Grandpa Bright. We also stayed in my dearest friend Linda's house which was so welcoming. Even though she had to run her family restaurant all weekend (the amazing Mexico City Cafe) we enjoyed our mornings together waking up to baby smiles and taking turns getting coffee. But as blissful as all that sounds, surprisingly it is not this weeks BEST.
The best and greatest was seeing all my Whittier College girls at Erin Hurley's fabulous wedding. And if I had to narrow it down even more I would say the highlights happened on the dance floor during the reception. Maybe it was because there was uncontrollable laughter for hours mixed in with unbelievable dance moves fueled by mojitos, white wine, and vodka sodas. Maybe it was because Tavian was sleeping soundly in the hotel room with Grandma and Grandpa watching over him, so Momma could freely break out the MJ moves to Billy Jean and Beat it. Maybe it was the love that we all felt for our beautiful friend Er Bear as we watched her dance with her new hubby. And maybe it was because I was surrounded by amazing, talented, diverse, intelligent, and gorgeous women that I am honored and proud to call my friends...as we all shook our booties in a circle singing "I ain't no holla back girl" at the top of our lungs.
The amazing Jasmine Star took some great photos of the event, click and enjoy.
WORST
Flying to Denver was Tavian's third airplane ride in the 6 months that he has been out in the world. The trip to Seattle at three months was nerve racking, but flawless thanks to my Baby Sherpa Sue Jean who was on our same flight. Next to NYC, but this time Dad was in tow and we made it just fine. Going out to Denver International Airport was just fine too, so this traveling Momma's confidence was very high as we made it through security all by ourselves and readied to board the plane for home. The key to all past flights was that I had an extra seat next to me and Tay could have his own seat in his infant carrier. When I checked in I was informed that the only extra seat on our flight was in the very last row, and the airline-check-er-in lady said she blocked off the seat for us. As we boarded and I felt my biceps burning from carrying the baby in one arm and the massive diaper bag in another, I apologized to every person I bumped into allllllll the way back to row 32. I squeezed his baby carrier in the seat next to the window and let out a sigh of relief as I sat down next to him. Even though the last row of seats don't recline and we would be scrunched in there, we were on our way home.
Suddenly I hear "Miss! Miss! You are going to have to move that baby seat." This was from the woman who was sitting in the middle seat and the man standing next to her nodding in agreement had the aisle seat of row 32...which meant the baby and I had to share the window seat. As we pow-wowed with the flight attendant the doom set in. This was a full flight, no extra seat. I fearfully watched as she took my baby carrier away to stow in a closet at the front of the plane. I looked at Babyhead, and he looked at me...so innocent and unaware of how unhappy he was going to be.
We made it about 30 mins. Tavian is becoming so active and mobile that he does not like to be held for very long. Who can blame him? The world is new and needs to be discovered. So the fussiness began which I was able to control with silly faces and teether toys. But then he got tired. We have all been there...when you are just so overly tired that you can't get to sleep and frustration sets in and we toss and turn. This is what the little man was going through, but his translation was in the form of screams and cries. Yes, we had a totally meltdown. Yes, I was the mother with the screaming child on the plane. Yes, I was panicking and sweating. Yes, I can see all you people glaring at me. And yes, I apologized to the woman in front of me who finally whipped her head around and gave me those salty looks...Lawry's.
This went on for almost 3o mins when I finally forced the people in my row to get up so I could walk around and try to calm him down. But basically it was too late and he needed to just cry himself to sleep...which he did, on my shoulder, and a man staring at us gave me the thumbs up. As the beverage cart passed I told the flight attendant that if anyone in the last five rows wanted a drink it was on me. No one took me up on the offer, but as I returned to my seat oh-so-careful not to wake Tay up, everyone around me said how sweet it was for me to want to do that. Nothing like free alcohol and a sleeping baby to make people look nicely at you again.
