The Longest Day Of My Life

Dear Laney,

In honor of the longest day of my life, prepare yourself for the longest entry in the history of my blog.

As I understand it, the President of the United States has an assistant who keeps the minutes of his day, like “8:57am – Met with Sec Navy to discuss boats.”

Had I been keeping the minutes of my day, they might read as follows:

___

All times local

7:42am – Get into Philip’s car for ride to Warner Robins. Windshield is icy. Philip has trouble removing ice with a sponge. Pause for reflection: If "Survivor" ever has a season set on the frozen tundra, Philip would be ideal in the role of Contestant Who Goes Home In The First Episode.

8:02am – Stop at Vienna McDonald’s for a McMuffin. Baby does not want a McMuffin. Baby wants prunes.

9:00am – Board shuttle from Warner Robins to Macon. Install car seat in passenger van. I am The Man.

9:10am - Begin panting when good ol’ boy driver cranks the heat up to 90.

9:30am – Entertain restless toddler by adhering the entire contents of “My First Animal Sticker Book” to my face. Consider that my fellow passengers should be tipping ME as well as the driver.

9:45am – Arrive Macon for 25-min layover for the next shuttle to Atlanta. Remove car seat from van. Toddler wants to stay outside, so we do. Inside, a crowd of fellow shuttle passengers is glaring at me like I’m the worst mama EVER for letting my baby go outside in this weather. Eh, if they call Child Protective Services, we’ll be gone on the next shuttle before the agent arrives.

10:10am – Board Shuttle #2, bound for Atlanta. Install car seat again, with other passengers waiting and driver asking me if I know what I’m doing. I am no longer The Man.

10:45am – Woman in the row in front of us begins having a loud cell phone conversation about how the weather is unbearably cold “up here.” Through the course of the conversation, fellow travelers learn she’s from Miami. Of course.

10:55am – Toddler is restless in car seat. Would like to entertain her, but suddenly can’t remember the words to any song I’ve ever heard, except “I Will Survive.”

10:56am – Begin singing softly. At, “I shoulda changed that stupid lock / I shoulda made you leave your key,” begin to wonder if I’m alienating my fellow passengers, Decide Miss Miami is worse.

10:56am – “...If I’d’a known for just one second you’d be back to bother me!!”

11:20am – Arrive at ATL, carrying baby, suitcase, diaper bag and car seat. AFTER checking in with the Skycap, am informed that I’ll have to take the car seat inside to check it in separately.

11:25am – Commence check-in #2. Consider launching jihad against Delta Skycap.

12:00am – Lunch at the Chili’s in the “A” Concourse. Share quesadillas with toddler. When the waitress asks what I’d LIKE to drink, the honest voice inside my head says, “Half a bottle of merlot with a Ny-Quil chaser.” Outside voice says “Iced tea.”

12:40am – Chase toddler as she runs willy-nilly through terminal.

1:00pm – When Delta staff announces that anyone with a wheelchair or disability can board the plane, hustle over to gate. Apparently, staff also agrees that toddlers are a disability.

1:30pm – Put away bag in overhead bin. Toddler screams. Complete stranger in seat 36C starts reading from The Backyardigans Jingle Bell Christmas. Consider kissing him on the mouth.

1:45pm - Toddler falls asleep. Clouds part. Sun shines. Angels jam on harps.

2:10pm – Toddler wakes up angry. Would she like the sticker book? No. iPod games? No. Juice? No. There go the last two prunes.

3:26pm – Arrive Minneapolis. Allow toddler to walk on moving sidewalk. Watch as her mind is blown.

3:30pm – Hit the indoor playground at the Minneapolis Airport. Mom #2 enters with 15-month old, “Mitchell.”

3:35pm – Observe toddler as she chases (smaller, inferior) Mitchell around the play area, requesting a hug. Mitchell declines by pushing toddler away. Toddler pokes Mitchell in the forehead. Have trouble saying "Don't do that!" convincingly, as I would like to poke all of humanity in the forehead.

3:50pm – Mom #3 enters play area. I feel like she looks. In this glass-enclosed play area, we’re like the saddest exhibit in the Zoo of the Damned.

4:00pm – Seated at TGI Friday’s.

4:02pm – Toddler discovers that there are no more prunes in the snack bag. Begins screeching and hurling trivia game cards, Splenda packets and cardboard coasters. Explain to server that she’s pissed over prunes. Bound-for-heaven waitress brings 2 pounds of Craisins to the table.

4:03pm – Peace is restored.

4:20pm – Mac n’ cheese and mandarin oranges are served.

4:30pm – Convinced name is being called over Delta loudspeaker for final boarding. Can that be? Spoon remaining mac n’ cheese in an empty snack container, tip server 40% and haul ass.

4:31pm – Begin sprinting down concourse carrying a diaper bag and 30-pound cheese-drenched toddler, still in bib.

4:37pm – Arrive at gate. Boarding is just starting. False alarm.

4:40pm – In seat, toddler finishes serving of mac n’ cheese. 28 baby wipes later, the evidence is removed.

5:00pm – Plane departs for Missoula. Baby departs her mind, and begins 40-min-long screaming tantrum.

5:20pm – We have become That Family. Woman in adjacent row gives me a look like I’m doing everything wrong. Consider giving her the finger, safe in the knowledge that over-tipping my TGI Friday’s waitress will even out my heaven points.

5:25pm – I cry. We are 12 hours into our journey.

5:35pm – Remember that toddler loves to wash her hands. Take her to the airplane bathroom and let her wash her hands x 27. Don’t care if the entire plane is waiting to pee. They have become the enemy.

5:45pm – After what must look to the outside eye to be a Judo match in Row 18, toddler falls asleep.

5:46pm – Realize that toddler hasn’t pooped all day, and tomorrow should expect a visit from The Ghost Of Prunes Past.

6:00pm - Get out laptop and begin a list of the day’s lowlights. Realize that including the words “jihad” and “Delta” in the same blog entry will probably put me on some sort of watch list.

7:17pm – Plane lands in Missoula. Toss toddler at Thor. Begin hour-long drive home.

7:25pm - Talk to mother on the phone. Tell her that if faced with a choice between reliving today or giving birth, would choose giving birth. It's easier to get to ten centimeters than it is to get to Missoula.

8:15pm - Home. Make all Ny-Quil-related dreams come true.

Laney, I'd like to say that our day wasn't as bad as I'm making it sound, but it was probably worse. All day long, I had the feeling that it was You and Me vs. The World, but the important thing is that at the end of the day, Team You and Me won. Love you to pieces. Now go to bed.

Love,

Mom