I Believe I Can Fly

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

This year thus far has been chock-full of firsts. First baby. First round of sleepless nights. First time cleaning poop off of my bedspread. And if you follow me on Instagram, you already know we just experienced our first flight as a family of three to visit my family in Nashville. What you don't know, however, is the sheer mayhem behind our trip home yesterday. I'm still in recovery mode aka napping and eating copious amounts of ice cream like a champ.

As a self-proclaimed control freak with a winning A-type personality, punctuality and organization are especially important to me. When I married Grahm (the very definition of aloof), I knew I would no longer be able to arrive 15 minutes early to events like I prefer. (High school parties were rough.) Not a big deal, as long as we're still on time....

Now I'm realizing that having a child puts us way way way past the hard-and-fast line of tardiness.                                        
Babies seem to be a part of a strange time-space continuum, where time goes to die and you're not even aware of it.

Our flight was at six a.m. (First mistake.) We got up at four, or as I like to call it the boobing hour. Sawyer always seems to be especially ravenous around this time. I had already packed us up the night before, so all we needed to do was change her, feed her, and say our goodbyes to my mom and sister before my dad took us to the airport.

Forty-five minutes later (The nugget has been chowing down on the boob buffet for how many weeks now? And every time I'm still amazed at how long second breakfast takes.), we were finally headed to the airport. Another thirty minutes go by, and we're finally arriving. We now have forty minutes to check our bags, go through security, and board. Oh, and everyone and their guitar happened to be in Nashville that morning. Making our flight seemed about as impossible as resisting that fifth strip of bacon.

Panic mode started to set in as we waited in the grueling line for bag check.

We tangoed with thoughts of desperation ("Oh god, we're gonna be stuck on standby all day with a newborn!") and total ignorance ("Psh. We have plenty of time. In fact, let's get breakfast burritos before we board.")

Fifteen minutes later, our bags were checked and we frantically made our way toward the TSA line. I half expected the airport to part like the Red Sea. "Lady with a newborn, running late! Make way!" But all we saw were disgruntled Nashvillians thrilled to be awake at the ungodly hour.

Another huge line awaited us. We began to pray to the security gods that people wouldn't be as slow as molasses getting their belts and shoes off. (Yes, I'm talking about you, lady, who decided it was a good idea to wear her hooker heels to the airport.)

By some miracle, we made it through the line with four minutes to spare. Grahm grabbed the diaper bag and mumbled something about running ahead to the gate. Before I knew it, I was alone with Sawyer in my arms trying to sprint toward our gate while I watched my barefoot husband several yards ahead dodging the swarm of people.

Running through the airport in flip-flops while carrying an infant who has yet to master neck control is probably the hardest thing I've ever done. Forget the four marathons I've completed, this was the race of my lifetime. R. Kelley's "I Believe I Can Fly" was stuck in my head... I did. I believed I could fly.

An excruciating three minutes later, I rounded the corner to our empty gate where Grahm was waiting. We did it. We made it. I could've cried I was so happy. We were the very last to board, and (thanks, Southwest) there only middle seats available. But we ignored the "Oh my god, they're so late AND they have a baby" stares of the people in the plane and considered ourselves victorious. Hallelujah.

The real miracle is that Sawyer not only slept through the whole ordeal, but she didn't make her mamma whip her boobs out while sitting between two large businessmen who were just thrilled to have us at their sides.

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Kaysie said...

New signature *claps*

You should feel good to know that when I'm too busy fighting off rental scams and working and making stale dinners, you're still the only blog I read <3

Maxine Elizabeth said...

I love reading your blog since having a kid. It makes me realize what I have to look forward to in August.... woooo-hoooo......

Chrissy said...

I live in Nashville and I am always amazed at what a buzz-kill the airport is! I am usually used to seeing smiling faces sporting cowboy hats around touristy places, but the airport is where all twangy joy goes to die. haha.

My motto is "if you're on time, you're late." I am so not looking forward to retiring that one once babies come along.

Danielle said...

She sounds like such a good baby!! Jack eats every 1-2 hours.. It's rough!! And I have a feeling he would have been screaming the whole time! ;)

Kelley Gilster said...

"Chowing down on the boob buffet" Umm best line ever hahahaha! You are so real in your posts, I love it.

Kalen said...

Whew so glad you made it! Although I can't believe no one offered you their seat to sit as a family. Rude!

Julie @ Just the Joy's said...

Bahahahaha! The "boob" talk just cracks me up! Glad yall made it on your flight! :)

Lauren Peters said...

Bravo, mama.

Did you ever think you'd refer to your boobs like this? ;)

Rachael Loomis said...

Oh the joys of traveling with a newborn-ish baby! The first time I flew with my son he was barely 2 months old. Needless to say my boobs made more than one red carpet entrance on that flight! So cheers to you for making it through without having to expose yourself :-)

Autumn said...

You have such a great sense of humor...and I love your new layout! :)

Kayla MKOY said...

Loving your blogs new look! HA "forget the marathons I've ran, this was the race of a lifetime!" - you're cute. Nice job making it through an airport with a baby!!

Amy said...

this was amazing.
i mean NOT amazing for you - but of course with your humor and wit you've made it amazing for us to read! :)