Brothers Apart

In early April the boys were apart for a few days... for the first time ever.  I had a wedding to attend back in Cleveland, and couldn't take both boys (too expensive for the extra plane ticket) and it would have been hard for Hari to handle both boys solo in NJ, so we decided to divide and conquer.  I took Ryan with me, and Colin had a "big boy weekend" with Daddy.

It all went well, but there are (of course) some stories from the weekend...

• On their way home from the airport Hari and Colin went straight to Friendly's for an ice cream sundae.  And not just any sundae... Hari sent me a picture of Colin with a spoon in one hand, his other fingers jammed in his mouth (licking something, I'm sure) and a giant vanilla-strawberry sundae in front of him, complete with Oreo and Gummy Bear toppings, and a mountain of whipped cream.  Let the debauchery begin!
• Ryan did well on the flight out, we got to Nora's house without incident, but he refused to sleep.  It was nearly 11PM and the kid was still up.  I finally got him to bed and he woke himself up.  Hysterically sobbing.  Crying... YAAAALIN SHAAAARMA!  YALLLIN SHARMA! YALIN SHARMA, WHEEERE AAAAAAH YOU?!?  He wanted Colin.    I tried to calm him down, but nothing worked until my friend wisely suggested I pull up a photo of Colin on my phone.  I did, and Ryan immediately calmed, stuck his fingers in his mouth, and was happily asleep within moments.
• Friday was business as usual for Colin, but Ryan was in kid heaven.  He was playing with all his "cousins" in Cleveland, Snoopy the dog was around (NOOOPY... WHERE AAAAH YOU????), and Grandpa was there to dote over his every movement.
• Back in NJ, Saturday was kid heaven for Colin.  They went for a walk, to the Rainforest Cafe for lunch (he had popcorn shrimp and chicken fingers), he had his first golf experience (9-holes of a ride-along with Daddy!), followed by Chuck-E-Cheese for dinner and games, and a late-night walk with Daddy and Sydney.
• Saturday was a big day for Ryan too... his first wedding. He slept through the ceremony (right at nap time) and at first was a little timid at the reception.  But then the party animal came out.  I took him out on the dance floor, and he refused to dance - there were a ton of kids and adults hopping around like fools, and he was relatively knee-high so I didn't blame him, but then... the next thing knew he was dancing like a little maniac!  And every time I tried to sit down for just a moment he would grab me by my hand (or legs) and literally drag me back onto the dance floor.  Amazingly he lasted the whole night, not falling asleep until we were in the car.

After a spectacular weekend, though, it was time to head back home.  Ryan and I boarded the plane, and thankfully there was an open seat between us and the other passenger (a woman who was reading a book).  The flight was generally uneventful.  Ryan was very good the whole way.  We read books, played some Angry Birds, and shared a big bottle of water.  Toward the end we ran into some turbulence, but it wasn't too bad and in spite of a slightly bumpy landing it was all smooth sailing.

As we were taxiing down the runway, the woman next to me looked over and commented on what a wonderful traveler Ryan had been.  I thanked her, smiling at my well-behaved little guy, and then... almost on cue... he started to cry.  He was on my lap, sitting on his knees facing me, wailing.  And about 2 seconds later...

YURRRK!

Ryan threw up.  Thankfully it was just a tiny bit, and due to my cat-like reflexes I managed to catch all of it in the palm of my hand.  I paused, proud of myself, and was thinking about how I was going to reach under the seat in front of me to get the diaper bag so I could clean up.  (That was my fail-safe... I knew in there I had wipes, plastic bags, napkins... anything I needed.  It was just going to be hard to reach.)

I wasn't that lucky.  Moments later Ryan threw up again.  Full-on Exorcist-style buckets-o-vomit.  All over me.  In my lap, my shirt... everywhere.  I was literally soaked to the bone.  In vomit. SOAKED.

This was one of those mom-moments... I was filthy beyond words and there wasn't a d@mned thing I could do, I was just stuck.  Ryan, however, was once again happy as a clam.  And, by the way, was also quite clean.  He had carefully managed to puke almost entirely on me.

The pilot, of course, on cue announced that we were nearly at the gate but there was a delay so we were going to have to hold tight for a few minutes.  OF COURSE.  I'm sitting there, covered in vomit, and there's a delay.  I swear this could only happen to me.  I placed Ryan in the seat next to me and gave him a book which he happily "read" while I used half a pack of wipes to try and debris myself.  To say I was horrified would be an understatement.  I was sitting there, soggy, filthy, and feeling bad for everyone around me.  I could smell the awful vomit-stench, and knew that everyone on the plane could smell me too.  Those poor people!

We finally pulled up to the gate, but of course Ryan and I were in row 25 so we had to wait... and wait... and wait...  I gave Hari a quick call to explain the situation, then continued trying to sit quietly, hoping against hope that maybe the other passengers couldn't smell me.  A decade or so later the aisle was finally clear enough for us to try and make our way off the plane.  A lovely Irish gentleman (with a darling brogue!) offered to get my bag down from the overhead bin, and then earned his knight-in-shining-armor badge by insisting on carrying the bag for me the rest of the way off the plane.

Once off the plane I clicked Ryan into the stroller and made a bee-line for the bathroom.  Now you have to understand, I kinda have issues with public restrooms.  I use them, and don't make a big deal, but am always creeped out because they are just dirty, awful, plague-spreading places.  Airport bathrooms are even worse because of the sheer volume of people that go through there every day.  But there I was.  In the bathroom.  Thirty-seven open stalls, but I have to wait because the stroller will only fit in the handicapped stall, and there is someone (NOT handicapped, by the way) in there.  Taking her sweet old time.  I had to keep telling the women behind me to stop queuing up, because there were plenty of open stalls, just none that I could use.  *SIGH*   Because in my vomit-covered condition, really... what is another 5 minutes.

I finally got into the stall, stripped down, and gave myself a baby-wipe bath while standing on top of my sneakers.  Then changed into some clean(er) clothes, depositing my vomit-soaked pants, shirt, underwear and socks in a plastic bag which I threw in the bottom of the stroller.  I then changed Ryan's clothes (just on general principle), we scrubbed our hands, and headed to be picked up.

The moment we exited the bathroom my phone rang, once, then stopped.  I checked and the phone showed two missed calls... Hari.  I knew he must be circling, so I quickly called him back.  He answered, "You know, this is not a good time to not pick up your phone!"

*double sigh*

"Yes, dear.  I was in the bathroom removing my soiled clothes, and didn't have any reception.  I called you as soon as I got out.  I'm sorry."  Normally I would have barked back at him, but I just didn't have it in me at that point.  Having to sit in vomit-soaked clothing for 15-20 minutes will do that to a person.

In Hari's defense, he had spent the entire morning cleaning out the van (which had been filthy enough to potentially qualify for an episode of some horrific A&E show), and then taking it to be detailed (washed and vacuumed, inside and out), and had probably circled the airport three times waiting for us.

We finally connected, and the reunion of the two boys was beautiful.  Ryan was sooo excited to see Colin and Hari, Colin was overjoyed to have us back, and we all made rounds with hugs and kisses.  Hari kindly offered to pick up dinner on the way home so no one had to cook, and (after a LONG shower for both me and Ryan!) we all sat down to a family meal and a fun evening together. 

And so our little family was back together, as we should be.