Travels with Aimee

In no particular order, here's what's made me chuckle from the road this week:

• Monday morning, 5 a.m. ish at Lambert. The nose-pierced girl behind me suddenly asking (in an oddly slow, not-panicked-I'm-gonna-miss-my-flight-way) if she could go ahead in the security line. Me saying, "Well, I guess..." sensing this wasn't a true emergency, which I am always happy to accommodate. And her validating me by saying, "That's OK, I don't have to. I'm just so000 tired, and I want to get on the plane." Me thinking, WTF?????????? Me snapping, "Well, aren't we all" and standing my ground.
• Multiple people at my client commenting, on seeing me in my more advanced maternity state and clothes, "Oh, I didn't know you were pregnant?" followed by "You don't look very big." Well, but remember how you just a minute ago said...so I must look...oh, never mind.
• The front desk guy at the hotel pointing me toward cocktail hour in the bar. Me snottily informing him I didn't think the baby would appreciate that. (And knowing my misdirected anger is a direct result of HOW MUCH I WANNA GO IN THAT COCKTAIL HOUR!)
• Me ordering dinner last night from a combination KFC/A&W restaurant. Ordering off both menus. Eating half on the drive home. And feeling incredible disappointment when my Lil' Bucket parfait somehow did not make it into the bag.
• Me calling the KFC to get a credit for the Lil' Bucket parfait (they agreed).
• Me ordering $10 room serve "chocolate dome" to make up for missing $1.79 Lil' Bucket.
• Driving my rental Nissan Altima out of the airport, and having to pull over several times within the first two minutes, wondering why it's driving so darn funny. Before I call the rental company's roadside assistance - from side of road, hazards on - at which point I figure out I have been driving 50 m.p.h. in first gear. Because Altima's have manual and automatic mode, and guess which one I was accidentally in? (To my defense, what genius labels a stick shift "+" and "-" instead of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5?)
• My wild little boy becoming inexplicably obsessed with me singing him "Rocky Baby" (aka Rock a Bye Baby) which I never sang at all until last weekend, and suddenly, it's his fave. So he's now requesting it by phone. Eight times tonight.
• Me, physically singing my son Rocky Baby, but in reality, watching Jason Castro butcher Bob Marley and Bob Dylan on Idol. (What the heck WAS THAT?)
• My son, requesting "Mama, home? Mama, home?" last night as I was reading him books by phone.

Okay, that one wasn't funny so much as heart wrenching. I might need to start another list...

I'd Get 5 1/2 Hours of Sleep...

...If I went to bed right now.

What in dear God's name was I thinking agreeing to a 6 a.m. flight?

I can tell you. It's like I forgot there's 3 hours of wake up, drive, get there early time. It's not 6 a.m. your alarm rings, you roll over and board.

Wish me luck on my alarm clock going off, my back-up going off, my coffee auto-brewing, and my car service showing up at 4:15 a.m.

Oddly enough, they didn't laugh or even question remotely that pick-up time. Which almost makes me suspicious, it was too easy, do they even intend to show up... "oh SURE we'll be there, and did you want donuts?"

Bright Spots

So by Thursday night my peppyness was a bit done. I was tired and ready to be home, but still had a long day of work and traveling ahead Friday.

Woke up Friday and various things set me off to a bad start. So texted Mike, "Off to a bad start, better send me a good pic [meaning of Matthew] quick."

I didn't get a pic, but got an even better text message back:

A plane just flew overhead and matthew looked up and screamed hi mama hi mama

The day improved markedly as did my mood after that.