Fly Girls

The first time Brynna and I flew, she was 6 weeks old. I wore a sling wrap and she slept so well people didn't realize she was on the plane. She's getting older (and more vocal) these days, but she still does really well. A couple of months ago we flew to Houston and although she didn't sleep on the return flight, she and Papa had quite a fun time with the magazines in the seatback. This weekend we flew to Tulsa for my god-daughters' dedication ceremony. As per usual, BG played until take off and then layed down and slept until we arrived. She slept so well that her head was a sweaty mess of hair and I had to comb it down. We got off the plane looking like she'd slicked her hair with grease. If only that's what we looked like getting off the plane coming home...

Monday's flight home was another story completely. It started out great. Brandy and I patted ourselves on the back for leaving the house promptly at 6:30am as scheduled. She dropped us off right on time, and a nice Southwest attendant helped me lug all our earthly possessions to the ticket counter. (Seriously. The amount of stuff required by such a small person continues to amaze me. We had a large - 48 lbs - suitcase, pack-and-play, carseat, carryon and stroller.) We sailed through security and got to the gate. It was our usual breakfast time, so I fed Brynna her baby food while we waited. She ate like a big girl while chatting up half the waiting area and waving to everyone who passed by. We got on the plane, settled into our seat and prepared for take-off. Brynna was showing signs of being sleepy, which was perfect. I figured she'd sleep most of the way like normal and then wake up as we de-planed. I thought wrong.

Just as we took off, BG snuggled on my lap facing me. She layed her head on my chest and off to sleep she went. She tossed and turned a few times and then abruptly sat up and started crying. And then she threw up. Everything. I was able to keep the damage contained just to us, but it was everywhere. A flight attendant brought us papertowels and trash bags. And the wonderfully gracious man sharing our row held the bag as I attempted to wipe us down and threw trash at him. (God bless you, sir, wherever you are...) I stripped Brynna down but soon realized I had no other clothes for her. (Please see Toliver Family Blog - Nia borrowed the spare clothes Saturday at dinner. These girls!)

So after stripping Brynna down, I turned the cleaning efforts to me. I was literally covered. There was no salvaging my shirt, even if I had poured the whole can of seltzer water on my head. So I chose the only option I had. I took my shirt off. I had a white boy-beater tank on underneath and, yes, a black bra! I was having my own personal wet t-shirt contest righ there in seat 5D when the flight attendant offered me a t-shirt from her bag. It was an XL and obviously one she used for painting and wearing around the house but at that moment it may as well have been Versace. I was so grateful. (God bless you, too, ma'am..)

All I could think as we landed was how ridiculous I was going to look walking through the airport with my naked baby in my oversized t-shirt. And that's when it happened. Yep. She threw up again. We repeated the process - more paper towels, man holding bag, etc, etc, etc. When we were together enough to stand, we exited the plane and headed home as fast as possible. Thank Heaven for a husband who took the time to bathe Brynna before going to work so I could take a shower. I considered never leaving the shower, but that just didn't seem feasible.