(NEIGHbors. Get it?)

{Thankful to be here.}

The security line. My stomach dropped when I saw that it wrapped back through all of the zig-zags, down one hallway and back up it to another hallway. Hundreds and hundreds of people. In years of flying in Minneapolis, Chicago, Denver, Portland, New York, Salt Lake City… I have never seen a line this bad. We held on for dear life and prayed for a miracle.

Down a hallway and back up. Down the second hallway and back up. Finally to the actual barricaded line area.

“Paging Daniel, Allison and OBoy Olfelt for flight number 6139 to Denver.”

I caught the attention of an airport employee. “That was us that was just paged, is there anything we can do? Is there a family line?”

“No, you just have to wait with everyone else.”

Around one zig and up a zag.

“Final call for Daniel, Allison and OBoy Olfelt for flight number 6139 to Denver.”

We took the hit to our gut and did nothing about it; we could do nothing about it. Our plane was going to take off without us. We didn’t know what would be waiting for us on the other side of the metal detectors. What even happens when you miss you flight?

More zigs and zags.

“Paging Daniel, Allison and OBoy Olfelt for flight number 6139 to Denver. The plane is waiting for you.”

A spark of hope! The plane was waiting? Does that even happen? But, we still had so much line ahead of us. I caught the eye of a TSA officer and asked, “Sir, they just said they’re holding the plane for us. Can we please come up?”

“Everyone else is in the same situation, ma’am. You are going to have to wait.”

(Actually, no. Everyone else was not in the same situation. Believe me, I was listening closely to every PA system announcement. No names besides ours had been paged since we got there.)

I about cried. Here we were given this second chance and still there’s nothing we could do. We were going to miss our flight.

“Absolute last call for Daniel, Allison and OBoy Olfelt for flight number 6139 to Denver. We are closing the doors.”

“THAT’S US!” I yelled. “Can we PLEASE come up there?” The TSA agent I had asked earlier avoided my eye contact. The lady who was next in line to have her ticket and license checked lifted up the barricade and waved us through, the people behind her were nodding and speaking in agreement. We ducked under the rope and the agent who had previously avoided my eyes checked our boarding passes.

It was then a frantic, mad dash to get OBoy out of  the stroller, get the stroller up on the belt, backpack off, get the laptops out of the backpack, shoes off, empty pockets, walk through the metal detector, stuff back in pockets, shoes back on, laptops back in the backpack, backpack back on…

“We have the Olfelt party through security, headed to the gate.”

Hearing our name, I looked up to see a different TSA agent speaking into her walkie talkie; she had figured out our situation and was eager to help.

“Y’all are gunna have to run. Is there anything I can carry?”

I thanked her and handed her the stroller. DanO and I had gathered up our post-security pieces (and our children) and were ready to run. Thankfully our gate was within sight of where we stood sliding our shoes back on.

We were those people running through the airport with a backpack a car seat and a couple of kids. At the gate stood the ticket agent and the captain of our plane.

“Olfelts? Glad you’re here. This is your captain. He’s your hero this morning. He checked, you would not have made it into Portland until 11pm tonight if you missed this plane and he knew he had some cushion because of good tail winds into Denver. He saw that you were traveling as a family and made the call to use every last bit of that cushion to give you a chance to make it.”

It was now 15 minutes past when the plane was scheduled to depart. The captain held the plane for us, just for us, for 15 minutes.

DanO shook his hand and thanked him. I about cried again, but for a different reason. Then we walked down the jetway, two kids, two adults, a backpack, a car seat and ecstatic hearts. I cannot even tell you the relief, praise, and gratitude I felt. We did not deserve to be on that plane.

Thankfully, as we boarded (talk about a walk of shame. Hello, hundreds of passengers. We were the cause of the hold up.) the captain came over the intercom and told the other passengers about the security line and why he had chosen to hold the plane. He also told us that he was certain we would be into Denver on time.

We arrived in Denver 10 minutes early, caught our connection with ease, and were hugging my dad by 10:45am.

God, friends. He is good.

I brought OBaby with me out to Oregon for the ceremony because through a series of events and never being in town at the same time, Janell had not met him yet.

He was so excited to be there.

The wedding was at a vineyard which was open to wine tasters until an hour before the wedding started. OBaby was a big fan of the excitement, all the people around to smile at, and all of the adoration he got in return.

I let him run it out for a while to get out those toddler jitters, and O My Success, did that ever work. I wore him in the silk sling for the entire ceremony and he was asleep by the vows.

It really did look like something from a movie or a wedding magazine – a perfectly cloudless day, rolling hills of grapes as far as the eye could see, tall trees granting shade to the guests’ seats, a sun setting slowly over the Oregon coastal mountains in the distance.

The only thing more beautiful than the setting was the bride.

They took their pictures before the ceremony, so the groom, Nate, waited up the aisle with his back turned to see his bride for the first time on their wedding day. The musicians were playing some wonderfully romantic chords as Janell walked up behind him. It was one of the more perfect moments I’ve ever witnessed.

Ok, so the same could be said about the entire wedding. Perfection.

I’m so glad we were able to be there to see it, and I’m so honored to have been a small part of it.

And then how he is an absolute angel for the rest of the flight?

You know how your husband rolled his eyes at the price tag on that Melissa & Doug puzzle with the opening doors and magnetic farm animals you bought to entertain your son on the plane but then it ended up being the best $20 you have ever spent in your life?

You know how when you watch your dear friend that led you to Christ 13 years ago first be seen by her groom on their wedding day, you can’t help but get weepy?

{More insanely gorgeous vineyard wedding pictures to come. Promises.}

You know how when you are the program attendant at a wedding and you kind of have to wear your baby in your silk ring sling because it’s like you own it for such a time as this?

And then when you’re handing out programs the little blondie on your hip smiles and waves at every last guest because he adores people (and they, him)?

You know how that same blondie then totally macs on the bridal party for the entire reception?

{Good taste, no?}

You know how all summer you could kill for a fresh blackberry milkshake from that burger chain that only exists in the pacific northwest and then you get the chance to have one and you just about keel over from contentment?

And you know how that same burger chain is so cutting edge (and unbelievably Oregonian), what with their corn plastic utensils and cups, their local produce and their wind energy? And how you think it’s awesome that they put their nutrition facts on their receipts until you actually look at the grams of fat in that blackberry shake?

{Ahem. For the record, I shared the shake with my dad, so only like 26 of those fat grams were mine.}

You know how you feel like you could survive 3 hours of just about anything when there’s one flight between you and home and you are thisclose to being done so you find yourself with an insanely good attitude of ‘come what may’ for the plane ride home?

And then how OBaby is an absolute angel on that flight, too?

And how even though you’ve tried like 36,000 times on this trip, you are not physically capable of taking a picture of you holding your sleeping baby on the plane without cropping out one of your eyeballs?

You know how sometimes an empty row (even if it is the very last row of the plane) makes all the difference? And how you could not have been more blessed to have a row to yourself on both flights? And how this trip went so smoothly that you feel incredibly taken care of, by the gate agents who moved you, by your friends, your parents, your God?

Yea, that.

Remember when I said that I was going to look at our flight home as an adventure? Well, I think that’s what they call “a prophetic word” because no sooner had I said that I would be Little Miss Good Attitude than I was sitting on the plane holding my baby and feeling a wet, warm sensation run down my shirt.

{OBaby, helping us rip our eyes out at the insanity.}

O yes, folks. The ticketing agent forcing us to check a bag (even though it fit into the size tester with a little shoving persuasion) and me spilling the contents of the diaper bag into the aisle were not the only adventures this flight held for us. A diaper explosion released flood waters rivaling those of the Bonneville Dam right onto my lap. (This is the part where I go on and on about how much I hate disposable diapers and how we’ve actually experienced significantly more leaks and issues with them than with cloth.)

DanO jumped into warp speed Daddy, snapping up OBaby from my arms and high tailing it to the bathroom with the diaper bag. Fortunately, the seat belt sign was on so there was no line and the stewardess in the jump seat only gave DanO an understanding nod.

[Aside: Every time DanO changes OBaby on a plane there's a station, but I have only ever had the good fortune of changing him on planes that do not have a diaper changer in the bathroom. OBaby's first ever in-flight change was conducted last fall on the access panel door above the toilet by yours truly. The door was located where changers normally are, but it was definitely not a changer. It opened to the plumbing and I was careful to keep a good grip on his thigh the whole time so that he didn't fall down in it. It was one of those 'Where is my cape because I am freaking SUPERMOM right now' moments. True story.]

So we got harassed about our luggage. I was a klutz. I got peed on. But (and I really mean this) other than that, the flight went surprisingly well. O, and I didn’t have extra pants in the diaper bag, just a fleece PJ that would have been roasting, so once again we had a half naked babe in public (thankfully, somehow his shirt escaped more unscathed than I did).

It surely was an adventure, and looking back on it, my theory is that the diaper explosion was nothing more than a trick on OBaby’s part so that he could show off his chub-a-lub legs to all the passengers.

{O look! I’m standing on a plane! Without pants!}

{Taken just moments before somebody fell asleep in my arms, thus the lack of cooperation}

Vacations are so tricky as a family. Long gone are the days of alternating between napping and playing sudoku during a flight. When we’re traveling, it’s all hands on deck, firing on all cylinders, all OBaby, all the time.

It’s great to be able to get here and have all of the sweet experiences we’ve had [sweet like the cupcakes I shared with Auntie A, like the chai I drank while chatting with Nish, like the fruit cup OBaby sucked on while I caught up with a long time friend, and like the gelato we ate with my dad], but few things threaten cast their shadow over the joy of those moments like the lack of sleep and high stress level that come with being far from home with a baby.

I have learned on this trip that if my son stirs a little in a bed that is not his, he is more likely to wake. If he wakes in a bed that is not his, he is more likely to freak the freak out. If he freaks the freak out, there is no breast milk in the world strong enough to get him calm and sleeping again in less than an hour. Even if it’s 12am. Or 3am. Or 4am. I feel like the mom of a newborn again, and I have the dark circles under my eyes to prove it.

Hopefully the trickiness of this trip was just an exercise in us getting our travel legs, because we will be logging 3 more round-trip flights as a family before November of this year. Yes, you read that correctly. Lord willing, in his first year of life OBaby will take 4 trips by plane.

Tid-bits from this trip that we will take with  us on future flights:

1. Fisher-Price makes a $25 booster seat/high chair that straps onto an adult chair and folds down impressively small (like fit in a carry-on small). Totally worth the money.
2. Buy a new toy before the plane ride and prepare to break some of your own parenting vows should desperate times require it.
3. Pack light. Buy diapers and wipes at your destination (or have your parents buy them in advance if you’re lucky like us). On a six day trip, pack 3 outfits and wear each one twice. No one will notice and you will be glad you did.
4. Remember to bring the lovie. ::kicks self::
5. Know a way to get your baby to sleep on the go whether it’s in a stroller or a baby carrier; there will be inconvenient times that he will need to sleep.
6. (This one I am trying so hard to work on:) See it as an adventure or a challenge, not a burden.

As I sat in Noah’s Bagels talking to a childhood friend about her and her husband’s plans to backpack through Europe for a month, I felt a tinge of sadness come over me. We can’t do adventurous things like that anymore, I thought.

But that’s not true. We can still have adventures! We are on an adventure! We are sitting in a bagel shop at 8:30 in the morning, 2,000 miles away from home with an 8 month old. We are parenting on the go and making it work… making it more than work, we’re making it fun!

So as I sit here, less than two hours from hopping on a plane, I am pumping myself up for the challenge of using nothing but our resources (MacGyver style) to entertain our baby for four straight hours.

Bring on the adventure!

We touched down in a sunny, 68° Portland, Oregon on Wednesday afternoon. It was so nice I could hardly stand it. Since we’re at the coast much of our time in state, we decided to stick around the city and do some browsing of the shops on 23rd while eating gelato with those cute little shovel things.

{The sunglasses were a sleep aid.}

[Aside: I'd like to officially introduce you to our baby carrier that we wore to the zoo (that some of you noticed). Yes, it's new and yes it's awesome. It is a mei tai style carrier from Baby So Smart (who did not pay me to tell you about them, although if they wanted to I'd be open to the idea ::wink::). We super duper love it. OBaby can actually sleep all snuggled in there (unlike our ring slings now that he is so big) and we bought it before this trip for that exact purpose. While we walked 23rd Ave, he napped happily as I debated leaving my socks and underwear behind so that some stunning candle holders could come home with us.]

{OBaby, wondering if there’s space in the luggage

for that $180 baby boutique jumper.}

Parenting on the go is so much easier for us with babywearing. We didn’t pack his stroller and we are just borrowing a car seat while in town (which has stayed in the car for the entire trip). We packed so light that we didn’t even check bags and so far we haven’t forgotten anything.

There’s something about flying [by the seat of your pants] with an infant that appeals to DanO’s and my problem solving sides. For example, when we landed, OBaby was in entirely the wrong outfit for the warm and sunny afternoon we were experiencing so we did a quick in-arms wardrobe change standing the shade in a parking lot, then carried on our way. Later when we realized that he would be snuggled right up to us for a good period of time in the mei tai, we nixed the pants we had just put on him.

That’s right, my baby walked around “trendy-third” in nothing but a polo and his diaper because that’s what worked for us. There’s something to be said for doing what works in parenting and not what ‘looks good’.

That’s not to say that he didn’t look good, because clearly, he did.

{and I think he knows it}

~~~~~~

Speaking of questionable behaviors, we took our pants-less-baby-on-the-go to a Starbucks there on 23rd where I had made plans to meet someone from the internet (somehow, the more often I say that the less creepy it sounds). This wasn’t just anyone from the internet though, this was the outdoor wife herself, my future roommate at The Relevant Conference in October.

We talked about churches, husbands and the struggle of trying to keep up on blogging. I also confessed to her that I was going to have to milk myself pump while at the conference, so we should probably get comfortable with each other sooner rather than later (which began well as I fumbled to nurse OBaby while sitting directly across from her in an uncomfortable wood chair. Nipple flashing: now that’s what I call bonding.)

Joking aside (I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again), I love this crazy blogging on the interwebs thing. It has brought so many great people into my life, some that I’ve met in person and some I haven’t yet, but all of them beautiful.

It’s like I’m speaking to you from the past… OoOoOoOoOo… trippy.

~~~~~~

This is just an assumption, but flying with a mobile child is going to be trickier than flying with an immobile baby who naps at the drop of a hat (or drop of breast milk). For this reason (and against my better judgment) I spent an hour yesterday wandering the aisles of a small, local shop Target buying things to distract my squirmy munchkin on a 4 hour plane ride. This includes but is not limited to: A book of stickers, Gerber graduates puffs (yes, I read the ingredients. Yes I bought them anyway – like I said my survival>my judgment) and a Yo Gabba Gabba DVD.

O MY GOSH THERE I SAID IT.

I own a Yo Gabba Gabba DVD and I intend to put it on in front of my child in hopes that it will mushify his brain keep him quiet.

I’d go back and search through my posts for you to find the one where I claimed that I would NEVER, EVER purchase ANYTHING from the stupid consumer-driven infant and toddler entertainment industry EVEN IF someone held a gun to me head, but that would ruin all your fun, wouldn’t it?

O, and also? OBaby will be in disposable diapers for the entirety of our travel.

Feel free to search for posts making me a hypocrite on that one, too.

The DVD won’t be our first line of defense (she back-peddles), but I feel a little more comfortable knowing we have it in our arsenal. It’s like the second string trump card (and come on, we all know what the real trump cards are ::wink::).

I have a pretty clear distraction hierarchy in my head for the plane ride, worried about prepared in advance for those flustered moments of ‘O crap what do we do?’ It goes something like this:

“Should whining commence, implement Step 1. Complete subsequent steps until whining is alleviated.

1. Give baby a ‘baby toy’
2. Read a book to baby
3. Sing The Wheels on the Bus with all the hand motions
4. Put out some cereal puffs for baby to eat/slobber on and stick to his clothes
5. Open sticker book for baby
6. Let baby play with cell phone
7. Play Yo Freaking Gabba on the laptop
8. BOOBS

Here’s hoping we never get past step 6.

~~~~~~

PS: OBaby is totally stoked for this vacation.