Texas-Day One

C was possibly the cutest thing ever to set foot in an airport wheeling his new suitcase behind him!  I was picking out a new luggage tag the night before we left and he spotted this.  He wheeled it up and down the aisle and then asked if he could have it.  I guess he was expecting me to say no because when I said, "sure bud," his face lit up with pure joy!!  "Oh, oh!  Now I am just like Daddy!  Look at me!  Now I have my own suitcase just like daddy!"  He repeated these phrases over and over as he followed me around Target with his new prized posession.  He brought smiles to many faces in the airport as they watched him proudly wheeling his very own suitcase around the terminal.

C went on his first airplane ride when he was only 6 weeks old.  I'm positive he's flown more times in his 3 years than most people fly in their entire lives.  And most of the time we fly, we do it without Daddy's help.  So, yes, I would say that we have got this whole flying thing down.  I gave my sister (who was flying with her 4 month old for the first time) tons of "tips of the trade" before she embarked on her journey to Texas.  I am, after all, an expert.

I know what to pack...how to juggle luggage, a carseat, and a child...and how to entertain a little one during an endless layover...basically, I know it all.  Except what not to dress your child in on the day of your flight.  Yep, that'd be my three year old in the chair and Mr. TSA's blue-gloved hand patting him down...

After dumping all our stuff onto the belt for the x-ray machine, taking off our shoes, stripping my sweater and "declaring" C's sippy cup full of water, I sent C through the metal detector.  Beep.  Hmm..that's weird.  "You gotta car in your pocket buddy?"  Lady TSA asks.  I knew he didn't have any cars...he didn't even have pockets in what I dressed him in...I'm a pro, remember?  "Mom, check his pockets for me."  C walks back through and I double check to make sure I'm right.  Yep, no pockets.  But, oh wait, would those be giant metal snaps all the way down both his pant legs?  Yes, yes they would.  After mentally kicking myself, I tell her, "It must be his pants."  She takes a look and I assume we'll call it a day and be good to go.  Nope.  She's actually calling for Mr. TSA to do a search.  Ooohh goody, this should be fun.  He takes C to the side and tells him to "stand on those peanuts right there."  C stands on the footprints on the rug as he is instructed and thus begins the pat down.  C thought it was hilarious!  He was smiling the whole time.  And while Mr. TSA is saying things like, "Ok, I'm just going to pat the backs of your legs now.  Ok, I'm going to use this wand to check for metal under your clothes."  C is saying things like, "Why that machine beeping at Gordon (he is channeling Gordon the train at this point...am I the only one who got that?)  What's Thomas (now the beeping machine) doing to Gordon.  Why's he beeping like that at him?  Oh, that jet (the beeping machine) is taking off now.  It's flying away."  There were several people pointing and smiling.  Even if it wasn't my kid, I would've thought TSA searching a 3 year old was pretty comical.  I asked Lady TSA if I could take a picture.  She asked Mr. TSA.  He looked at me like I was crazy, but agreed.  Then Cranky Old Man TSA ran over and said, "Please do not take any pictures of our employees."  Ok, you are not going to search my toddler and not let me document this moment for the scrapbook blog!  I told him that I'd already asked permission and that it was just a picture of my son.  (And Mr. TSA's blue-gloved hand...shh...don't tell!)  Our flight was much less eventful than our trip through security.  C has always been a great traveller.  This time was no different, and with the excpetion of ten minutes of crying during our descent because his ears hurt, he was a dream.   

Man, do I love portable dvd players.  Seriously one of the best inventions ever!!!  After getting the rental van and swinging back through to get my sister and baby B, we were on our way to our hotel.  When we got there we settled in and met up with my parents for dinner.  We ate at the place downstairs in the hotel.  We ordered two pizzas.  One deep dish hawaiin and one thin crust pepperoni.  What we got was two plates of pizza soup.  Seriously, soup.  She gave us two of the same deep dish pizza and they didn't even look done.  Our suspicion was confirmed when I removed a slice, all the cheese slid off, and the freshly made triangle was quickly filled up with oozing goop.  Yeah, it was gross.  The waitress told my mom, "I can get you a thin crust pepperoni for half price since I messed up."  Um, how about you get us a thin crust pepperoni because that's what we ordered and give us these two beauties for free.  Thanks.  My sis and I left with our tired kiddos before the bill came, but later my mom told us that she did only charge them for one of the "pizzas."  I left my extra room key at the front desk for hubby.  C and I snuggled up in bed together and around midnight hubby got in.  The next morning C got up way too early (that always happens on vacation!)  He climbed out of bed and started speed walking around the beds pretending to be a race car.  He was stopped right in between the beds when hubby shot up and said, "C!"  He had no idea his daddy had snuck in during the night and he freaked out (and not in a good way.)  He just started bawling and curled up in a little ball on the floor.  Daddy apologized for scaring him and after some cuddling with Mama, he was over it and ready to start Day Two...