Well. There’s not much to report about the boys at the moment; Zac seems to have finally finished teething so apricots resume today. He’s also doing well in speech therapy, finally trying to say actual words! So far he’s attempted to say “bottle” (ba ba), “splash” (lah), and “brother” (bubba). Of course he already says “mama”, “ball”, and “cat” (cah), so that puts him at 6 words! I’m thrilled.
Jed is doing well, too. My parents accidentally fructosed him this weekend but he’s bounced back already.
After much calling and searching, I managed to find two new goat milk ladies who can keep Zac in goat milk! Yay!
Things are just trucking along!
So I thought I’d share something non-FPIES, food, or kiddo related today.
This weekend I had a little bit of self-revelation.
Every year, Flight Attendants have to go through a 2 day training course to stay FAA certified. Mine was this weekend.
I was packed, halfway dressed, and my parents were here to pick up the kids for baby-sitting duties when I decided to go book my flight to work, and saw that the wide open, easy to get on flights were suddenly completely full! They’d cancelled one flight in the three hours since I had last checked, and rolling those passengers over to the other flights filled them up.
Since I fly space available, that was very, very bad news for me.
I checked alternate airports, and every single flight was completely full. On a whim, I checked the return flights, and they were all full as well.
Uh-oh.
It was 1:00 p.m. on Thursday, and I didn’t actually have to be in Houston until 8:00 a.m. on Friday.
That’s enough time to drive down.
So I did.
I quickly changed out of my uniform, repacked my suitcases, grabbed some extra food, and hit the road.
When I go to work, we do a “car shuffle”. Mom takes my car with the car seats, Darrel takes Mom’s car, and I take Darrel’s car to the airport. Darrel’s car used to be my car before the kids came along. With kids, we needed a bigger vehicle, so I got the new car and Darrel got my old one.
I bought the zippy little Saturn at the heels of my divorce and car accident. My car had been totaled, and being a newly single woman I wanted something sporty and fun to drive.
Sometimes I miss my Saturn.
What I realized this weekend was this: I love driving!
I never actually knew that about myself before.
Thursday was a bright, sunshiny day. I hit the highway with the sunroof open, the windows down, the radio blaring, and felt myself lighten up and relax in a way I haven’t done in a very long time.
Now, I may live in Arkansas now, but I am a born and raised Texan. If you are a born and raised Texan, you know that means you will spend a LOT of time driving. Everything is bigger in Texas, after all!
The minute I got my drivers license, my friends and I took (or made up) any excuse in the book to hit the road. Later, I was a state officer in a charity organization for girls, and made friends all over the state. I’d drive up to Austin, San Antonio or Dallas just for the night to see my friends on a regular basis.
Thursday, when I started driving to Houston for work, I was transported. Suddenly, it wasn’t 2014. I wasn’t a married mom with responsibilities.
I was 13 years old again, heading off to my first Lollapalooza. I was 15, spending the summer at the beach with my friends; surfing all day and sitting around beach bonfires at night, talking about nonsense that was life-changing in all its ridiculousness.
It was senior year in high school and I was heading off to El Campo to see my friends and cruise around town. It was college and we were driving to Austin just to see a band.
There is just something about throwing the car into 5th on an open highway with the sun shining brightly that makes you feel immortal, young, and free.
For a few glorious hours this weekend, I remembered what it felt like to be young; to have endless opportunities and no limitations before me.
To feel alive and full of hope.
Since FPIES came into our lives, I’ve sort of forgotten that feeling.
Real Life has a way of holding you in a vice grip and not letting you up for air long enough to remember the joy of hope sometimes.
Since I’ve been so stressed out lately, I’ve been trying to find things that help me relax and come up for air (so to speak).
I’m quite surprised to discover that my best antidote for the blues is a full tank of gas, some excellent tunes on the radio, and a wide open highway in front of me.
Alone.
See, I’ve been on the road quite a bit since the kids were born. We frequently hit the road to visit my parents, Nana, and Aunt down in Texas. But somehow taking babies and toddlers on a road trip isn’t quite the same as hitting the road alone, or with your friends or husband.
Babies and toddlers have a funny way of needing diaper changes, needing to be nursed or otherwise fed, or just get cranky and scream after being trapped in a car seat for too long.
Kind of a “I’m free and loving to drive!” buzzkill, you know?
So maybe I need to leave the family behind and go on a road trip every now and then?
Of course, I may have felt young and free, but I most certainly am not 16 years old any longer! Thanks to two pregnancies and childbirth, I had to stop for bathroom breaks a LOT more often than I ever did in my teens. Driving at night was rougher on my eyes than I remember it being, and I definitely felt a little stiff after 5 or so hours in the car.
Still. Bathroom breaks and stiffness aside, I feel refreshed. Even though I’m back home and back in the routine, I feel excited about the possibilities before my family again.
Life really is pretty good.
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What’s your best way to remember being young and full of hope? What crazy things did you do as a teenager that made you feel alive and joyful? I’d love to hear your stories!
