Traveling Whilst 6 Months Preggers ...

Hello loverlies!  I'm SO very sorry that I missed Thoughtless Thursday yesterday!  I was supposed to meet a friend for breakfast and rolled out of bed about 20 minutes before I was supposed to be there, which pretty much led to my running late with everything else the rest of the day thus causing me NOT to blog!  I do want to say thank you, THANK YOU for all your thoughtful and loving comments regarding my mama's barn and the precious horses that lost their lives on Tuesday.  I do, however, have some comforting news that the fire marshall delivered yesterday.  He said that from the looks of where the fire started that the horses more than likely died of smoke inhalation before they were able to feel any pain, which gives my heart a lot of peace. 

But enough of the heavy, let's move on to more humorous tales (and I'm going to warn you this is going to be long, but if you need a good chuckle today I'd advise reading on ...).  Like that of me traveling.  At 6 months pregnant.  When we miss our connecting flight on the way TO our destination and almost miss it on the way home FROM our vacay.  Let's start with on the way there.  We landed in Minneapolis and when we got to our gate, BEFORE the plane was to take off, we were met with a locked door and no one at the ticket counter.  Apparently they'd given our seats away since we weren't there 20 minutes before to board.  This is when my Mister immediately went into "dad mode" (if he wasn't already, sometimes I'm convinced he's constantly in "dad mode") and told us it was time to BOOK IT to the nearest Delta ticket counter.  As expected, after working his magic, we were on a delayed flight that was supposed to have left earlier however we had 15 minutes to get there in order for them to allow us on the plane ... to get to a gate that was at least a few football fields away.  As soon as we were given this info I am pretty sure my Mister's heels ignited causing him to shoot off like a rocket leaving me to see nothing resembling him besides a cloud of smoke.  Now for those of you that aren't preggers I'm not sure if you know this (because I clearly didn't when I attempted this feat at first) but you can NOT run, in flip flops, when your extent of excercise for the past 6 months has included a pregnancy video which is basically a bunch of chubby (but cute!) ladies doing a few ridiculous kicks and punches and calling it a workout.  Which is fine, I understand that your workouts have to be less intense when you're pregnant, all I'm saying is the maternity videos don't "train" you for a new sport I like to call "airport sprinting".  So after my rocket Mister takes off I start walking like one of those crazy women you see power walking with weights and with sweat bands around her forehead and wrists and looking like she's doing what can only be described as "labor breathing".  All the while carrying my 30 lb carry-on bag (what?  it's completely necessary to have 10 magazines, 2 books, a purse, sunglasses, my iPhone and 42 packs of gum inside one large bag.  a girl has to be prepared!)  Thankfully we get there and they let us on the plane, at which point my Mister turns around and remembers that he has a wife, let alone one that's pregnant, and tells me "Good job momma" to which I reply "{GASP} Th- {GASP} -a- {GASP} -nk- {GASP, GASP, GASP, WHEEZE} -s- {WHEEZE, WHEEZE, WHEEZE}" not to mention he gave me a high five on the plane.  That's my Mister.  He's pretty cute actually, if you ask me.  Needless to say, after this the trip was smooth sailing ...

Until we came back home.  The Mister left from Michigan to go to the the home of my personal "Heaven on Earth" Disney World, for work for a week and my brother, my Silly (sister in law for you new readers) and myself headed back to Dallas.  This is where it REALLY gets "fun" ... the flight from Grand Rapids to Detroit was fine.  In fact it was dandy.  I listened to a little music, read a little and then we were landing.  It was, of course, only a 30 minute flight.  Being that we had such an ... experience, yeah that's what we'll call it ... the last time we tried to catch a connecting flight we were all determined to make DARNED SURE we were at the gate at boarding time.  However our first flight made that a bit difficult as we landed at 6:35pm and our other plane was boarding at 6:40pm.  We were told to tell the guy at the gate when we deplaned that we were catching a connecting flight and to please call the gate that our flight was leaving out of.  We promptly did as we were told, however we got a friendly "I can't, you'll just have to hustle" from the pleasant guy at the gate.  Um.  Hustle?  HUSTLE?  Do I LOOK like I can HUSTLE?!?  But hustle we did and (insert all details of previous airport sprinting experience (minus my little rocket of a Mister) which I'm pretty sure we could all letter in after our extensive practice) got there in plenty of time.  And by plenty of time I mean they weren't even boarding.  So as I'm still gasping and wheezing (because it takes me a good 20 minutes to an hour to cool off and bring my heart rate down these days) we start to board the plane.  We're sitting in the back (which doesn't bother me) and I'm happy to have an isle seat (I HATE climbing over people I don't know to pee) ... until I see my seatmate.  A GIANT  (think Andre) 6' 5" man who's poor legs are crammed into the seat in front of him as well as spilling over into my seat as well as his arms and half his torso.  Great.  I'm already bigger than normal and sure that I'm going to need every inch of comfort in my own seat, let alone SHARE it with this man next to me.  Luckily he was adorably cute about it and said "I'm sorry ma'am, I'm just a tall guy and they don't make these seats big enough for me" which he was right.  It was pretty ridiculous the amount of room his legs and arms had to go.  However, I'm still pregnant.  Still wheezing.  Still exhausted.  Still frustrated.  I start to think "Crappity crap crap this can't get any worse."  Well, never, EVER, think that.  Because the minute you do the toddler in the seat behind you will start to whine.  And by whine, I mean WHINE.  Not cry, not act tired or hungry or scared, just cry to cry.  And surely enough (if you're lucky like me) the cry will turn into a full-on wailing scream that has a flemmy somewhat inhuman tone behind it that makes you, literally, want to pull your ear drums from your head whilst simultaneously punch the back of the seat in front of you repeatedly.  Finally my seatmate next to me says "Oh I can't TAKE no 2 hours of this!" and whips around and says to the father, "Is the baby ILL?" to which the father looks at him with no reply so my seatmate (naturally) says it again.  Louder.  "IS THE BABY ILL?  DO SHE NEED A BOTTLE" (this is verbatum friends, meanwhile I'm giggling so hard I can barely contain myself and am starting to believe this is going to be a funner {I know word police, not a word} flight that I thought!) to which the father responds "She is just crying, there's nothing I can do about it."  Um.  I beg to differ sir.  You can comfort her, give her a toy, a bottle, tell her to SHHHHHUUUUTTTTT IT!  Now don't get me wrong.  I have complete sympathy for a parent that's doing everything they can to comfort a screaming, upset child on a plane, but someone that's doing NOTHING?  No sympathy.  And here's where it gets even better.  This woman about 6 rows up keeps looking back every time the kid cries, so I'm thinking she's as annoyed as the rest of the back of the plane is so I'm shooting her rolling eyes, "get me off this plane" type of looks thinking she's on team "annoying toddler" ... well after about 20 minutes of the sheer torture she walks to the back of the plane, goes to the row behind me and PICKS UP the little girl!  I'd been shooting "I can't stand this kid" looks to the MOTHER OF THE CHILD.  I've never felt so bad in my life.  However I quickly got over it when the kid immediately shut up and didn't cry the rest of the flight.  Um, WHY DIDN'T YOU COME GET HER 20 MINUTES AGO!?!  Needless to say the rest of the flight ended up being delightful, I became friends with my seatmate (Eugene) and learned all about his daughter he was visiting in NY who was studying to become a vet and made it home in one piece (no thanks to the fact that part of the ceiling fell off inside the plane and some of the windows were put on upside down, but let's not get into all that) and that's my story.  I never want to see another Delta airline as long as I live.  Not really, but really ...

Now that I've written my novel for the week, hopefully I haven't bored you all to tears.  I'll end with a few pictures ...

{I got Caleb's baby book, which I LOVE!  Now I have a place to record showers and future info about our little man!}

{This is the shirt I wore to tell our parents we were expecting.  This is the first time I've worn it since.  It looks a LOT different with a baby in that belly!}

{My sweet cousin, Erica, is moving to Wyoming this week with her husband and 2 darling boys to take care of her dad who's sick so I went to tell her goodbye yesterday.  Hopefully they'll be able to come back over Thanksgiving and meet their newest little cousin!  Please excuse the no makeup, it's friggin' H-O-T here so I figure, what's the point?}

And that's about it from me for this week loverlies!!!  I hope y'all have fantastic weekends, I'll "see" y'all Monday!!!