Sam to Chicago

Sam and I flew to Chicago last week to visit Sam's grandparents (Danny's parents). My friend Tamara came with us. This was Sam's debut into the stratosphere. A 15-month-old confined to a space the size of a dining room chair at 37,000 feet for 2 hours should not be legal. Additionally, the flight was packed!

Once settled, Sam decided to... JUMP. No, I had not bought him a $300 seat. So, our laps served as his trampoline as he bounced like a Mexican jumping bean on crack cocaine. To complicate things, Mr. Horrible Grouchy Man shared our row!!! Sam threw toys and bottles at him, as well he deserved. Tamara, who sat next to the Grouch, said "sorry" about 1000 times as she retrieved the said toys and bottles delicately from around his legs, lap and feet. Mr. Horrible stared stonily ahead. He refused to assist in retrieving the items from amongst his own appendages. Sam bellowed. I hyperventilated. Then I thought, "%*#*@ idiot!" Two hours later as we barrelled down the runway in Chicago to a stop... Sam slumped into a deep sleep. The late afternoon sunlight fell through the little window across his peaceful baby face.

The day of our return, I wore Sam out so he would not jump. I'm smart like that. BUT, he missed his nap. As time passed he grew over-tired and over-stimulated. For the last 5 minutes of the flight, he screamed at the top of his lungs. You know... high pitched, brain cell boiling, can't-stand-it-for-one-more-microsecond sort of scream. I calmly explained to everyone in the cabin that this was Tamara's out-of-control child. Tamara cooed. Sam whacked the seats around him with all his might. My insides cramped into the size of a raisin. Our ears popped. The plane landed.

That night, Sam slept for 14 hours.

And we lived happily ever after at home in Charlotte. :-)

Myrna by the Maple Tree

First Easter Egg

Sam found his first Easter Egg yesterday with a little help from Danny. He then passed up lots of other eggs because he was so proud of his purple egg. Later he found a frisbee in the grass and tossed the egg aside with an air of contempt. His cousin Myrna claimed it and the chocolate inside...

Happy Easter, Sam!

There and Back Again

Once upon a time, Sammy and I were in love. Then he pooped in the bathtub. It disintegrated among the bath toys like flotsam and jetsam. It was so awful. How I wished that Uncle Shawn or Aunt Shari were there to clean it up, since I know they wouldn't have flinched one bit. :-b

Additionally, Sam chose this moment to develop a major entitlement attitude. He wanted to carry his waterwheel with him out of the tub. He refused to be patted down with the towel. He would not allow a diaper to be put on unless he was standing on the changing table manually forcing my eyelids open and shut. I’m just telling you, he was cruising on my last nerve. And when he was more or less cleaned up, I still had everything else to clean up.

Much later, as I was considering rewarding myself with some chocolate ice cream, I found Sam climbing the dog. It was pretty funny. The dog was minding her own business chewing rawhide. Danny was watching the Masters Golf Tournament in the next room, and whenever a smattering of applause occurred, Sam clapped vigorously from his doggy seat.

He grinned at me grinning at him.

We fell in love again.

The End

Doggy Door

Sammy kneels at the doggy door into the shed. He gave our Doberman some of his honey nut cheerios, but regretted it a few seconds later. Now he's weighing his options for getting it back.