Wow. I've been gone from the internet so long, every site I visit is asking for my password instead of automatically signing me in.
HI THERE! Next time I decide to go this long without real internet (my phone does not count...cannot blog on phone...cannot read the blogs on the phone...sad day), someone slap some sense into me, k? K.
I'll tell you specific stories about things we did in the next few posts, but here are the funniest parts, mostly about vomit.
Our trip to visit Marcus's side o' the family in DC was lovely. It started off VERY rocky, but, fortunately, improved. Our flight out, the only direct flight from Birmingham to DC all day, was delayed. And when I say delayed, I mean we sat in the airport for SIX HOURS. Did I mention how maticulously we had planned out our airport time? How we left the stroller at home because OH! We'll only be in the airport for a little over an hour, part of which will involve Dean sitting in a highchair to be fed, so we don't need no stinkin' stroller! Um, pretty much wishin' we'd brought the stroller, y'all. Dean was a trouper. He made friends, had some snacks, took off his pants and wet through every single diaper we brought in our carry-on. Seeing as we were the last flight scheduled to leave, we had the airport to ourselves, so he could run free up and down the aisles without disturbing anyone. UNfortunately, seeing as we were the last flight to leave, all the shops closed before I could run in and buy some milk for him. A very nice bartender named Kenny sold me a bottle and the day was saved. He was great on the flight. This will be the last time he doesn't get his own seat when we fly with him. He didn't sleep much, but was in good spirits when we arrived. Pop Pop (Marcus's dad) picked us up in his shiny new car, complete with pretty new carseat for Dean. Dean didn't fall asleep on the ride home, which we thought odd, but didn't really worry about much. We arrived at G-Mama and Pop Pop's house at 1:30am. I got out of the car, opened the back door and said "Dean, we're here!" just in time to see him projectile vomit all over the nice clean car and carseat.
After hosing down the car and carseat and bathing Mr. Motion Sickness, we slept the sleep of the dead. The rest of the first week was packed with trips to the park, the zoo, train and carousel rides and playtime with Adam, Dean's cousin. I got to see Kitty, my best friend from my NYC days. She and I worked together at Cornell and even shared a house for two years. Seeing her brought me a joy I cannot begin to describe. It was like I unzipped a coat to find a part of myself that had been hidden during a long winter. I laughed and smiled like I haven't in a long time, probably since the last long visit I had with my other best friend, Meredith. Kitty and I went to the mall and shopped at Bath and Body Works, just as we did when we were young working gals with nothing better to spend our money on than flavored soap. We tried on scarves at Macy's and shared sob stories about having feet too small to buy "big girl" shoes. After our shopping excursion, we came home, where Marcus took one look at the relaxed smile on my face and said "Oh! You found Jen!" I needed some girlfriend time, yo.
During our second week, Marcus and I each had a case of the morning queasies, which we thought to be caused by eating at Red Lobster. However, once Dean threw up all over the breakfast table, the floor and his grandmother, we decided we might all have a tummy bug. That particular "puke rally," to borrow a phrase from the college crowd, sent us to the ER where Dean received baby motrin for his 102 degree fever, a pedialyte for dehydration and a popsicle for being cute. Oh, on the way to the ER? He barfed in Pop Pop's car AGAIN.
Anyway, he felt better pretty quickly, so that night, Marcus and I were able to go on a little date. Our friend Cliff was performing in a play in downtown DC, so we went to see it. We enjoyed ourselves so much! Not only was it great to see a show neither of us had any hand in creating, the entire cast and the script were fantastic. Afterwards, Cliff took us to a pirate-themed place where I had an enormous basket of pommes frites while actually facing the table. (Any time I can enjoy a meal or snack facing the table instead of sitting sideways to face Dean's highchair is a huge treat for me.)
Each night after dinner, we took the boys to the park, played on the slides, walked around the pond so we could see the beavers and turtles, then returned home for a popsicle on the front porch. Dean liked to share his popsicle with the neighbors' dog sometimes. (*gag*)
We were sad to see our week come to an end, but ready to get home, as I have contracted a lovely summer cold. Dean started coughing the day before we left. Our flight home was going swimmingly; we discovered the man sitting in front of us went to Marcus's high school and that his youngest son had just come off the road with a national tour of a show we liked. Dean looked like he was settling in to sleep when suddenly...you guessed it. BLECHHHH. All over Daddy. The flight attendant was so sweet. She brought a bucket of water, some rags and about 300 miniature lemon-scented moist towelettes for us to clean up with and stayed with us until we were sure Dean was ok. We channeled our inner theatre artists, doing what I must admit was one of the smoothest quick changes of a baby's entire outfit ever in an airplane. And poor Marcus had to ride all the way home with barf on his jeans.