The return trip

Well, the return trip didn't go quite as good as the trip to Montana. We left Bozeman at 10 am and John slept all the way to Billings. Not a good sign, I thought. He probably will be awake most of the rest of the afternoon. Yep! We stopped to eat lunch where he got fussy, so I fed him. Well, he decided to burp it up all over the table and the floor, TWICE! He was ok, until I got in line to go through security. I put him in the sling, and he started screaming. It didn't help that I had 20 (or at least it seemed) things in my hand. He screamed all the way through security, and unfortunately there were no kind couples to help me get my things together, and help me put my shoes on. I felt very alone. I also realized that Southerners are a bit more friendly than those from the North. I didn't have to go through extra screening, so that was nice. I was really proud of mom, she didn't start crying until after I left. I think I would have lost it, seeing her cry, as John was screaming.
Well, we get to the gate, and I sit down to feed him again. He calmed down for a few minutes, and then when he needed to burp he started crying again. Everyone (or so it seemed) was glaring at me. I'm sure they were thinking, I hope I don't have to sit by her on the plane. We got to preboard, since I was "traveling with small children." I kept him out of the sling to board the plane, and he did fine. I got situated in my seat, and he started getting fussy. I hummed to him, and bounced him as we sat, praying that he wouldn't be fussy the whole trip, and praying that we would take off soon, knowing that he usually calms down when we are in the air. Thankfully we were in a plane that had three seats across, and a grandmotherly woman sat in the aisle seat, leaving the middle open. He did great, and actually stared at me the whole time. He couldn't take his eyes off me. I had to turn away every now and then to rest my neck. Apparently there is something about the altitude you reach when you are in an airplane, or maybe it's the cabin pressure, that does something to a little one's insides. John decided about 20 minutes from landing to fill his shorts. Thankfully we had an open seat, so I slid over into the middle, and put him on mine and quickly changed him, right in time for some turbulence.



(Pictures of him staring at me on the flight.)

So, he does fine, until we get to the gate, and then decides to cry again. The lady in front of me commented, "Wow, he did really good until we landed." I said, "He usually does good when we are moving, he just doesn't like to be stopped." We were the last off the plane, and thankfully our next gate was one terminal over, instead of completely across the airport. The gate was off in a quiet area, so John fell asleep. Only to be awakened as we boarded the plane. Unfortunately no preboarding on this one. I did make it to my seat, prior to the person next to me, and John proceeded to start screaming. One thing that I've always feared, was my child annoying or offending someone b/c they wouldn't stop crying. Well, the guy who sat next to me, endured the crying for about 2 minutes, and then proceeded to find another seat on the plane. It actually wasn't as bad as I imagined it to be. I didn't feel any worse of a mom. It actually turned out rather well, as, like I said in previous paragraph, altitudes do something on the old pooper. Yes, John decided to unload, twice this time. It was VERY handy to have that open seat. He did manage to sleep for about an hour on that flight. I on the other hand could not. I was nearly giddy about seeing Chris. We arrived at the Austin airport 15 minutes early, coasted into what was supposed to be our gate, only to not be able to park there, b/c a ground vehicle had stalled. We waited 10 minutes, and then decided to pull over to the side and park, while they backed out an empty plane from the gate so that we could pull in. That was pretty interesting to watch. So, we finally pull into our gate (Gate 1-of course it would have to be the furthest gate away from baggage claim) and unload. I was able to get John into the sling (with the help of a, I can't think of any other way to describe her, "hippy" lady-she was doing yoga before and after the plane ride. I was amazed at her lack of care of what others thought. Someday I want to get to that point.) and we ended up not being the last off the plane. I waited to use the restroom 1.) so John wouldn't be disturbed, and 2.) so I could see Chris sooner. Well, he turned out arriving about 3 minutes after we went to the baggage claim. Apparently he was late getting out of the house. He was so excited to see how John grew and changed, and surprised at the increase of luggage!
We managed to make it home by midnight, after hitting every light on the way to I-35, and stopping for a snack, since I didn't eat dinner. I must say it was an interesting feeling to walk back into my house, that I haven't occupied for 2 weeks. It felt surreal, like there were familiar things that made it seem like mine, but it was unfamiliar in that I had gotten used to the room we had in Montana and things I had come to expect weren't there. Didn't think that could happen in only 2 weeks. Wonder how strange it is when it's even longer than that.