Mishap #1: Clem had her first blowout. Yep, you heard me. Her first. She's almost 10 months old and has never even come close to a blowout. Nate carried her onto the plan to get situated while I gate checked our stroller. As I walked toward them down the isle of the plane I saw Nate sit down with her, and then immediately stand up again. When I reached him he handed her to me and said, "this just happened".
Yup, blowout diaper. In true Clementine fashion the blowout happened at the right time. As everyone else loaded onto the plane we did a quick wardrobe change in the tiny bathroom. And then we hung out with the flight attendant until we could get to our seat. We made friends with one who's grandmother was also named Clementine. From that moment on, we got 5-star treatment even sitting in coach. I highly recommend becoming friends with the staff if you can; flying is more pleasant when you've made a personal connection and have a friendly face on board.
Mishap #2: Nate's pushing Clem in the stroller. We are just walking back from Third Street Promenade Mall to our hotel on Ocean Ave. My purse weighs a cool 50 pounds since it's also doubling as a diaper bag and for some reason I'm carrying it. It was a Thursday evening. A small and gorgeous crowd is starting to gather at the Ivy for drinks and dinner. Three very hip looking Southern California girls, all toned and brilliant and smelling good, stand in the middle of the sidewalk waiting for a table so I go left and Nate goes right with the stroller and Clementine.
Just then the toe of my very old flip flop caught on the sidewalk. I trip. My heavy purse, still slung over my shoulder, begins to swing up over my head causing just enough forward-moving momentum that I couldn't recover. Nate said he looked over and saw it all happen. He thought I'd catch myself and we'd all have a good chuckle. But that's not exactly what happened. A few seconds later I found myself flat out on the sidewalk, laying at the feet of the pretty girls. My purse had belched up a few Yo Gabba Gabba toys which made the site that much more unsophisticated and pathetic.
The pretty girls, and Nate, all helped me up while trying not to laugh. One of the girls grabbed Muno and stuck him back into my purse (it was Kate Spade, does that count for something). Let's just say the fall hurt enough that I didn't even care how I looked or even how I got up off the ground. All I remember is hobbling off and hoping I didn't throw up. The next day I could hardly move.
On a embarrassment scale of 1-10 where 1 is waving back at someone who is waving at you...but they really aren't waving at you, and 10 being wetting your pants at an amusement park as an adult (yes, I've done both more than once), this fall was a six. Earlier this year I was lifting Clementine's car seat into a cart at Costco and my skirt slipped off my hips and pooled around my feet on the ground. I stood there in my underwear for a few seconds as I tried to wrap my head around what had happened. That was an 11. And it may have reached as high as a 15 when I mouthed a really bad word just as I noticed an old man watching me from his car.
Mishap #3: We didn't give ourselves enough time to get to the airport coming home. Nate dropped Clem and I at the curb to check in and get thru security but by the time we made it to the gate the plane had boarded and was 4-minutes from pulling away. Nate was just making it to the security line. H told me to go ahead and get on with Clemmy and he'd catch the next flight.
Let's just say that boarding a plan with a stroller, purse, diaper bag, and a third bag PLUS a baby, is not exactly easy. And then we realized we were in seat 33C. That last row on the plane, window seat. Another passenger offered to hold Clem while I stowed our bags. A crazy old lady with thick stage makeup and a silk flower tucked behind one ear sat next to us sweating buckets and drinking lots of hot tea. Clem couldn't take her eyes off this woman. Even my baby knows a train wreck when it's sitting next to her on a crowded plane.
"Let's do this again", I said to Nate when he finally got home hours later. He agreed.
|Clementine at the beach in San Clemente.|