boondocks boulevard: Fuster Cluck!

It all began when Gavin and I attempted to depart on our journey to pick up Dylan at the airport. He was all dressed in the outfit that I made him, which read "My Dad is Home!" and we were going to surprise Dylan by actually going into the airport. That is, until, our car wouldn't start. So I called my favorite neighbor/friend/sister to come schlepping through the mud with her boys to install the car seat in the red car. The seat belongs to her family, after all, and I'd never once installed it myself or even bothered to learn how to do it. I was in no state to figure it out, after having set off the car alarm and all other kinds of things. But eventually we made our way to the airport and got there in perfect timing to pick up Dylan...at the curb.

Lo and behold, the car is completely immobilized and needs a new ignition-something-tumbler to be handmade in Los Angeles specifically for our VIN #. That's going to take at least a week. So we're down to one (small) vehicle. Meanwhile, the baby spent the better part of yesterday shriek-screaming, so we made a doctor's appointment for this morning, and then Dylan had a meeting scheduled at the airport. It was only supposed to take an hour. So we all crammed into the red car and headed to the doctor to discover that we have a perfectly healthy baby (hooray!). Then, since Dylan's work happens to also be Kristin's work, I went inside with Gavin and got set up with an Otis Spunkmeyer chocolate chip cookie and headed to a Quiet Room, which normally the visiting pilots occupy to get some rest. Perfect for a nursing and napping baby. (Thanks for the hospitality, K and Laura!) After an hour in the tiny, windowless room, I decided we had spent enough time at the airport, so G and I headed to the gym only to find out that the nursery was full. (Who on Earth is at the gym at 2:15 pm??)

So we packed it up and headed to Sauce because this mama bear was starving. But I had neither stroller and neither baby-wearing device (because those we keep in the other car). Then the baby made a huge poop, so after a backseat diaper change, we headed inside. He hates his car seat, so somehow I ate my salad with one hand while balancing the baby on my lap with the other. Then we headed to the Quarter, and I moseyed on into Lululemon and showed great restraint after lusting after the running pants that I want so bad, and left empty-handed. Well kind of. I had a 14.5 lb baby in my hands, actually. Then we sat on a bench and got bored and decided to leave when finally, finally, we heard that Dylan had wrapped things up.

So after wasting four hours, we realized that Dylan could have probably hitched a ride home from Kristin. Or rented a car. I would have even made the loooong trip home and come back. Any of those options would have been preferred over hand carrying the baby all over town and wasting an entire afternoon. (But at least we had a much happier baby today.) So while Dylan was at his meeting he found out he was flying tomorrow and Wednesday, and he had to quick make it home to finish some online training. But wait...we are hosting Thanksgiving, and we need a turkey! After a starving Dylan grabbed a sandwich at Jimmy John's, we pulled into Fry's, along with every other resident of North Scottsdale, and got our turkey and a few other items (while I continued to carry my 14-pounder). And also forgot a few things, but who even cares.

So tomorrow we will drop Dylan off at the airport to make his maiden voyage in the 605 and then the baby is going to the chiropractor (yes, that is for real). And remember how we have eight people coming to stay with us starting on Wednesday? Oh yeah. I've finally adopted the mindset that a few dust balls and toilet rings will not kill anybody. We have clean sheets and toilet paper (I think). It should all be okay.

It'll be a great Thanksgiving. And once everyone takes off, Dylan hits the friendly skies again almost immediately. I have a 4:30 alarm to look forward to on Monday morning for my first day back at work and Gavin's first day at daycare. Thankfully I'll have too much else going on to be too much of a wreck about it. Someone...please...remind me next week that a pile of laundry won't kill me and that some day, maybe 10 years from now, but some day my control-freak self will be back in control.

Actually, it's all pretty laughable. I've let everything go. If I had something to throw in the air, I'd do it. But instead I'm writing on the blog. Priorities, right?

And this blog wouldn't be this blog without at least a 100 pictures of Gavin. We celebrated Friendsgiving at the Probstfelds' over the weekend with the gang. It was so fun to get together with everyone and celebrate such a fantastic year.