I’ve been considering it for more than two years, but it was 2010 that the stars finally aligned and I made it to my first BlogHer conference.  And it did not disappoint.

I absolutely agree with Aimee’s assessment, BlogHer is what you make of it.  Everyone’s experience of the weekend in New York was a little, or a lot, different.  Some people went to every single session, some went to none at all.  Some spent hours on the Expo floor, some skipped it entirely.  And on and on.

I had my own set of hopes and expectations, that were probably somewhat different from many others.  I wasn’t there to actively network and promote my blog in the hopes of amazing new opportunities and a dramatic spike in traffic.  I’ll write more on that in another post, but I am not currently and do not wish to become a “professional” blogger.  And I’m happy with that.  Oh yes, I made business cards and I gave them to people.  I absolutely welcome new readers and new friends, and even fun opportunities when they arise.  But that wasn’t my overarching goal when I got on the train Thursday afternoon.

I went because I thought it sounded like a whole lot of fun.  I went because I didn’t want to read about it and be jealous because I didn’t go for another year.  I went because a weekend in New York without any kids was just what the doctor ordered.

I enjoyed some sessions more than others, but am glad that they’re all available as liveblog entries and (if not now, soon) podcasts, so I didn’t really miss any of them.  While I have a hard time putting into words exactly what I learned and took away from the experience, I can certainly say I got a lot out of it, even if a lot of it was self-reflection.  But there’s really something about being in a space full of people who blog, on such an amazing range of topics with such completely different approaches, that’s pretty powerful.

I got over any awkward hesitation and made it a point to introduce myself to the women behind some of my favorite, what I would call “A-list”, blogs: Sarah and the Goon Squad, Mom 101, Amalah, and many more.  I had read each of them, in turn, write something along the lines of “please please please just say hello,” and so I did.  And they were all nothing short of lovely.  I saw Aimee in one of the photography sessions and recognized her instantly, and ran over to give her a hug, finally meeting in person someone I’ve been commenting back and forth with for years.

I had awesome roommates in Caro, Kami, and Amber.  I got to spend lots of quality time with Charlene and Cindy.

I shook my booty on the dance floor with Cheryl.  (Seriously, if you’re considering going to BlogHer, you should do it just so you can hit up Sparklecorn).

I shook my booty on the Expo Floor with Christina, Liz, and Kristin. (God help me, there’s video.  I’m the short, fat one who almost won.)

I went to a party that had firefighters as eye candy, and admit to some confusion as to the social expectations.  Were there supposed to be dollar bills involved?

I saw the Sun from the Jimmy Dean commercials, as well as Elmo, the Pillsbury Dough Boy, and some possessed rabbit from a video game.

I witnessed and tasted something made by Charm City Cakes.

I saw the Pioneer Woman.

I brought home an extra suitcase full of free stuff, mostly toys for my kids.

It was exhausting, it was fun.  It was imperfect, but it ran amazingly smoothly.  I had substantial anxiety before I went, but felt surprisingly at ease once I got there. I felt just as welcome as anyone else. I am absolutely glad that I went, it was worth the time, energy, and money.

Will I go back, year after year? Well, probably not. I can say with almost 100% certainty that I will not be going to San Diego for BlogHer ’11, awesome though it sounds.  If, another year, it wasn’t on the opposite side of the continent and the timing worked out? Yeah, quite possibly.

And if you’re thinking about making the trip? I say go for it. Have a blast, introduce yourself to your favorite bloggers (in a friendly, non-crazy way), chat with people you’ve never met, and shake your booty whenever the opportunity presents itself.  You won’t regret it.

No one can agree on who Rebecca looks like.  M swears she looks like me, but no one else quite sees it.  My mom says she looks like my sister-in-law. Ultimately, there’s no strong resemblance to any one person in looks.

But in personality, I think she’s an awful lot like me as a kid.

There’s the funny similarities, like the fact that all she wants to do in the water is float. Or that she can often be found spinning in a circle and singing to herself.  She seems to be like me from a parenting perspective, too - pretty easy, big into rules, kind of sensitive to perceived slights or sadness.

We’re at the beginning of our annual Midwestern pilgrimage right now. Hauling our stuff all over Illinois and Wisconsin to visit various family members. This weekend was the yearly family reunion for my dad’s side, and it was tons of fun as always.  A pool, lots of young kids, silly games, junk food at every turn. Good times. Unfortunately, M had to stay home since he really didn’t have enough vacation days to join us.

Yesterday, in the middle of the Reunion Insanity, Rebecca woke up from her nap crying hysterically.  I asked what was wrong, and she choked out, “I miss my daddy!” Oh, the heartbreaking wails.  Eventually she calmed down enough that we could call M and she could talk to him.  And that was when I heard the most striking echo of myself as a kid, through buckets of tears and loud sobs and a thick throat:

“I just want to go home.”

Oh, how many times I said that as a child.  I was an intense homebody. My mom would drop me off to play at a friend’s house, and the other mother would call an hour later, saying I was ready to be picked up.  The first week of first grade was constant tears.  My first time away at camp, age 10, was an epic disaster of daily letters, begging to come home.  Even my freshman year of college, I racked up enormous phone bills (OK, much of which was to my boyfriend at the time), and almost didn’t go back after Fall and Winter breaks. I transferred at the end of the year, and ended up going to school two miles from home.  The fact that I have now lived a full time zone away for more than 10 years is nothing short of a miracle, but I think even that is nearing its end.

So, when I heard Rebecca all but begging her Daddy to let her go home (again today), my heart broke. Not just because we’ll be here for almost two more weeks and I certainly want her to have a good time, but because I remembered so clearly what that felt like. That intense homesickness, that desperate need to be near the things and the people that I missed.

I feel badly that I’ve passed that trait on to my child.  It’s hard to feel that sad, and it took away from my ability to enjoy things like Girl Scout camp, and for sure kept me from making a real attempt to take advantage of my first year of college (even though transferring was ultimately the best decision and my second school was a perfect fit).

Thankfully, I know it gets better. I was able to go away to camp a few years later and I liked it. I traveled to Europe and had a great time. I moved to Boston and fell in love and started a family.

And, hey, I’m 31 years old and want to live closer to my mommy. So maybe that’s not all bad.

But in the meantime, I will try to be patient with her sadness and remember that feeling in the pit of my stomach, of just wishing I could be back home.  I will try to help her enjoy the times when we’re away, and not just count down the days until we go back.  And I’ll make sure she gets to talk to Daddy every single night.

So, my aunt J calls me up and says, “what are you doing next week?”  “Nothing,” says I.  “Come to Chicago!” says she.

A few days and a few thousand frequent flier miles later, we were on our way.  My aunt got it into her head that she wanted the whole family to be together for a few days, and knew my mom was missing the kiddos (and me, I guess, but I’m OK playing second-fiddle to my children).  Plus, the one sister (out of seven siblings) who does not live in Illinois was coming for a visit.  I even ended up on her flight, giving her quite the surprise as she hustled down the aisle of the plane.

From that point forward, the kids were in cousin-heaven.

And we shocked the hell out of my mom when she came to get her sister and niece and nephew at the airport.

The entire visit was a crowd. Four of my mom’s six siblings (plus my grandmother) live within a two-block radius of my mom’s house.  Needless to say, they congregate frequently and in large numbers.

We were all over the place.  Playground, out for breakfast, meeting cousins.  We took a trip downtown to Millennium Park and heard the Chicago Symphony play Vivaldi, marveled at the Bean, and splashed in the fountain.

We stayed out entirely too late every single night, but had a blast.

And then it was time to come home.

Had to wake the kids from nap to go to the airport.

Line of severe thunderstorms moving into the area.

Daniel complaining that he “doesn’t feel very good.”

Delayed by an hour before we got on the plane, then almost two more hours waiting on the tarmac before takeoff.  Over-tired kids. Daniel’s throat hurts, so he refuses to swallow and soaks his shirt with drool.  For as confident as I am about traveling solo with my kids, this flight was an absolute disaster.  We did not make many new friends, by any means.  Daniel finally dozed off on my lap as we landed (after 11pm), but woke up before we got off the plane and wailed all the way through the terminal, most of the time at baggage claim, and half of the drive home.  At least by then I had M to help, but I was on the verge of tears, myself.

I seem to have some kind of Chicago-to-Boston travel curse.  Nearly every time I have to fly back to Massachusetts, something highly unpleasant happens with my flight.  An insane percentage of delays and cancellations, including multiple trips that were extended by a full day due to flight problems.

I can explain part of it by the fact that, when I’m booking the flights, it always seems like a good idea to book a later flight so that we can have extra time to our visit. WRONG.  BAD IDEA.  As painful as it can be to get up at 5AM (or earlier) for a crack-of-dawn flight, I have to say that they nearly always go smoothly.  Too much backs up by the end of the day.

But, seriously, there’s still a curse at work.  Guess I’m not meant to leave Chicago, huh?

At any rate, our surprise trip was generally a blast.  The kids did incredibly well with all of the extra people and late bedtimes and general craziness.  There was some overwhelmed tantruming, but not as much as you might expect.  All in all, a success.  I only wish it didn’t end on such a sour note.

We surprised my mom yesterday.  She came to the airport expecting to pick up my aunt and two cousins, and got me and the kids as well.  It was great to shock her like that.

We’re having lots of fun with tons of family.  A dozen people in the kitchen for lunch.  18 for dinner. Up past bedtimes. Handling it well.

So far today, meeting cousin Charlie.  (Daniel was starting to melt down and not interested in the photo op.) Beautiful day, family thrilled to see the kids.  A little crazed, but sometimes you have to do crazy things.

It sounded like such a good idea.  A somewhat impromptu weekend getaway, just the four of us. M took a day off of work, we made reservations for a hotel in New Hampshire right near Story Land, a little-kid-friendly amusement park. Brilliant!  You know, in theory.

First, we couldn’t go until Saturday evening.  Between swimming class, a quilt guild meeting (shutup!), and a baby shower, followed by a quick visit to a friend, we didn’t hit the road for the 3-hour drive until after 6PM.  But we made liberal use of the in-car DVD player, and all was peaceful for an hour and a half, until we decided to stop for dinner.

And I realized I left my purse at our friend’s house.  With my wallet in it (blessedly, not my phone) and the travel potty. Hopefully no mid-road needs to go.  Ah well, we’ll survive.

Arrive at the hotel after 10, our room has a separate alcove for the kids with two twin-sized beds. Huzzah! Except Rebecca has an over-tired new-place meltdown and absolutely refuses to sleep in her bed. She will only sleep in Daddy’s bed.  Good thing there were two queen-sized beds, so I got to sleep in relative peace while M got kicked in the shins all night.

Wake up in the morning and look outside.  It’s raining.  Not misting. Not drizzling. POURING BUCKETS of rain and 60 degrees.  No matter, the hotel has a heated indoor pool.  That’s closed for renovations.

OMFG.

OK, OK. All is not lost. The sister resort down the road has an indoor water park, which they will give us complimentary passes to. Whew. We get in the car and head there, only to realize it’s 10:25 and the park doesn’t open until 11.

Drive around. See lots of super cool, fun activities that the kids would love. If, you know, it wasn’t pouring fricking rain.  Find a toy store. Why not? Shop owner says this is one of her best days in the shop, ever. Rain is great for business. Lovely.

Get to the water park. Despite not liking getting splashed or water in their faces, kids have a blast.

Late arrival the night before meant a late start to the morning, a late lunch, and a nap that didn’t start until after 2:30pm. At least this time Rebecca agreed to sleep in her own bed.

They didn’t wake up until 5PM.  We gloomily peered out at the continuing rain. M and I weakly tried to come up with a plan for dinner, and then exchanged pitiful looks. I don’t remember which one of us said it first.

“Maybe we should just leave.”

We had only planned to stay until the following morning or early afternoon, anyways. At this point, it seemed ridiculous to bother sleeping in strange beds another night.  We thought about it for a couple of minutes, and then started throwing our crap back into our suitcases. Cut and run.

The front desk people were not only friendly and understanding of our desire to leave early, but were even kind enough not to charge us for the second night (thank you, Fox Ridge Resort! We’ll be back, someday!)

Back in the car, more winding northern New Hampshire highways. Most of our weekend closely resembled this, except with a lot more water on the windshield.

On the up side, it started to break up, and my kids saw their very first real rainbow.

Stopped for yet another fast food meal, put in Mary Poppins for the last stretch on the road. Didn’t even bother with the headphones, and we all sang along.

Did I mention how my van reacted to all this driving?  Aww yeah, not one, but TWO warning lights.

Anyways, back home, safe and sound. Felt good about the decision to leave.  Woke up to a beautiful day at home.  A beautiful day with no milk or breakfast food in the house.  No worries, Daniel and I will just climb into Daddy’s car and head to the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru in our pajamas for some milk and bagels.  Got halfway there (and, mind you, there is no place in Massachusetts that is greater than half a mile from a Dunkin Donuts, so we hadn’t gone far), and M called my cell.  “I need you to turn around right now, work called, data center is down and I’m the closest. I have to go fix it.”

Nevermind that this was still his day off.  His boss forgot, and called him anyways. So he went to work.

And that was the straw that broke this camel’s spirit.

Honestly, I had maintained a relatively good sense of humor throughout this entire fiasco. It was still an adventure, something different, and we were together. Wohoo!

And then he had to get called in.  No big morning outing to the zoo or the Children’s Museum or something else fun that you might do when Daddy’s home on a weekday.  Just me & the kids, solo again.  The comedy of errors just plain stopped being funny.

Fine. We’ll go to the grocery store.

Except I still don’t have my purse. I used the last of my in-car cash stash to get breakfast.

Screw it. Back to the same playground we go to every freaking week.

M came back after a few hours, thankfully.  So, you know, I could drive the hour (each-way) to my friend’s house to go pick up my purse and hope to not get pulled over on the way.  At least I got to do it with no kids and the Glee soundtrack blaring the whole time.

This Griswold Family Vacation is now over, and let’s all be grateful for that.

Admittedly, I was already a Disney World fan before we took this trip. But doing Disney with two 2.5-year-olds? A BLAST.

They were primed, of course. They had gotten hooked on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse when my dad brought them a DVD of it at Thanksgiving, so they know and have developed an attachment to the main core of characters. They’ve seen a few of the movies (some Pixar, plus a recent screening of Peter Pan), and M has been reading Winnie the Pooh (the original) to them at night.  They were all kinds of excited to go see “Mickey’s castle.”

It did not disappoint.  Despite a 4:30am wake up call for our flight to Orlando, they were buzzing with excitement.  Even the bus from the airport had them absolutely ecstatic.

The Daisy & Donald Duck figures on the way to our room put them straight over the edge.

The next morning, we hit the Magic Kingdom and made a beeline for Fantasyland.  The Peter Pan ride was the first, and freaked Rebecca out, but she eventually got over it and asked to go again.  The carousel never had a wait. The Winnie the Pooh ride was an obsession (every 10 minutes: “I wanna bounce with Tigger!”).  Dumbo was a hit, regardless of the fact they’ve never seen the movie. It’s a Small World.  All of them, right there.  We parked the stroller outside of one ride and just popped over to the rest.

There’s even a train that circles the park, complete with a costumed conductor. What else could you possibly want?  We made brief trips into Animal Kingdom and Epcot, but Magic Kingdom is definitely where it’s at with this age.

I wasn’t sure how they’d react to the costumed characters. They’re rather large, after all, and plenty of kids have been known to freak out.  But mine loved them. ESPECIALLY Rebecca.  The girl nearly tackled Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore.

Someone suggested I make a reservation for a Character Breakfast, and it was totally worth the high price and mediocre buffet to see this look on Rebecca’s face:

She was so excited every time a new character approached the table, I’m impressed she managed to stay in her seat.  Daniel was not as over-the-moon as his sister, but did enjoy talking with Mickey and Goofy about what he was having for breakfast, and offering them bites of oatmeal and waffle. They politely declined.

It wasn’t a very long trip, really only three full days. There was a ton of stuff we didn’t do, either because the kids were too small or there just wasn’t enough time. But I’m really, really glad we went. The kids were absolutely enthralled, and they still get excited talking about what they did and who they saw. Can’t wait for the next time.

For anyone wanting tips on Disney World with the under-3 set, here’s the advice I came away with…

THINGS WE DID RIGHT

• Brought the double umbrella stroller (our Maclaren). Folds up much better than the BOB, but still pushes nicely. Baskets were useful, kids did a fair amount of riding. And beats the crap out of the $30+/day to rent a plastic one at the park.
• Stayed on Disney property. I know people say you can save money if you stay outside the park. But I think staying in a Disney hotel is totally worth it for the convenience. You get the FREE bus shuttle from the airport (which includes THEM picking up your bags at baggage claim and delivering them TO YOUR ROOM). The park buses take you wherever you need to go, and while sometimes you wish they were faster, I still think it beats the hell out of renting a car.
• Got two connecting rooms. A bit of an indulgence, perhaps. But it meant we didn’t have to sit silently in the room while the kids were napping. Plus, M snores like a chainsaw, best not to wake the kids up.
• Respected the schedule, sorta.  We left the parks around lunchtime every day and took the kids back to the hotel for a nap.  OK, so it often ended up being closer to 2:00 instead of our usual 12:30. But they got a nice, long nap each day. Not only did they desperately need it after all of the running around and over-stimulation, but it also meant we left the parks at the very busiest time of day.  Bedtime also ran a bit later than normal, but not too bad.
• Get to the parks EARLY. It only gets more crowded as the day progresses. If you can get there right as it opens, you’ll be able to walk right onto two or three rides before you hit your first line. We never even bothered with a FastPass.
• Respect that you’re there for the kids. If they want to go on the same ride 5 times in a row, just frigging do it. If you get caught up in the fact that YOU want to go on this or that ride, you’ll end up dragging them around and everyone will get cranky. Push them a little to try new things, but pay attention to what freaks them out and what they enjoy, and you’ll have a much better experience.

THINGS I’D DO DIFFERENTLY

• Hotel upgrade. Normally I’m of the persuasion that you don’t go to Disney World to sit around in your room, so the low-end resorts are just peachy. And they are. Perfectly comfortable, kid-friendly, etc.  The flaw in my logic is that, with kids who nap and go to bed (somewhat) early, you actually do spend some time sitting around the hotel. We were at the All-Star Movies, and the down-side is that the low rates tend to attract large travel groups (there were several teenaged dance teams and at least one high school marching band) and an otherwise… interesting clientele. Without quite as many perks and amenities as some of the other resorts. This might have been the time to spend the extra little bit of cash and go up a level. I mean, really, we didn’t go into this one as a bargain vacation. Who are we kidding?
• Plan meals ahead of time. That’s one area where my planning really fell down. I didn’t scope out restaurants enough, or make hardly any reservations ahead of time. So we ended up kind of scrambling/winging it for each meal. And at 7:15 on a Saturday night, you ain’t getting in anywhere. Enjoy the lukewarm quesadilla from the quick-service vendor while you attempt to find a place on the sidewalk to sit. I think I hesitated because I didn’t feel like I knew where we’d be in the parks for each meal. But even making a call earlier in the day for dinner that night will yield better results.
• Bring more snacks from home. While I don’t advocate doing what some friends of ours once did (an ENTIRE suitcase full of food), I can say that reasonably healthy and toddler-friendly snacks are not super easy to come by. A few more boxes of raisins, bags of goldfish, and juice boxes would have been smart. You can even request a mini-fridge in your room if you want to bring something perishable.

TIPS AND TRICKS

• Kids under 3 do not have to pay to enter the parks. They will not charge you for kids under 3 when you eat at a buffet, and if you want to have them eat off your plate at a table-service restaurant, you are welcome to do so. So if you’re debating whether to take the kids now (at 2.5) or wait until they’re 4? There’s a reason to go now.  (Not that they ask for proof of age…)
• Taking the shuttles from hotel to park and back eats up a LOT of time.  Think a minimum of 30 minutes from when you get to the bus stop to when you arrive at your destination. Often more like 45-60.  You really have to think ahead on that one. That was a big factor in our consistently late naps and bedtimes. You just can’t get anywhere all that fast. Plan accordingly and accept it.
• Cast Members (Disney employees) are your friends. Be kind to them, they work hard. And most of them are super sweet, and often have a little stash of goodies to give to kids who look like they need a treat. A man at the Peter Pan ride handed us stickers, the cashier at the All-Star food court gave us beaded necklaces, and a bus driver gave Daniel a pirate scarf and Rebecca a little green ring.  Yes, it’s their job to be nice to you, but return the favor.
• There are designated meeting places for different characters, but the lines can be outrageous. Especially in the Magic Kingdom. But there was no waiting to see Pooh and his crew at Animal Kingdom, and the big names come right to your table for the Character Breakfast. Beats wasting half an hour in line to get a picture with Pluto.

Edited to add responses to questions asked in the comments!

I thought I read somewhere that grandparents were involved? What would you recommend the kid-to-adult ratio be?

My in-laws did come with us, and it proved very handy to have the extra adults. Especially when it allowed M to get up at the crack of dawn to come with me to my race, and we didn’t have to drag the kids. That said… I think it depends on the adults. My in-laws are nice people, but they often move entirely too slowly for my taste, especially when everything at Disney takes a while. So sometimes I felt they slowed us down. And with both me and M there, we were easily able to split the kids up if they wanted to do different things. So, evaluate your kids and your available adults. More people can be great, but it can also be more to coordinate.

What about potty, how did they handle it over there?

My uber-potty-master Rebecca did spectacularly. Used the bathrooms with no trouble (we always had our travel potty with us, so we just put it right on the seat). The industrial toilets were a little loud and scared her a teeny bit, but nothing too traumatic. I insisted on mid-morning potty breaks whether she asked to go or not, and she managed to have only a single accident our entire trip. Daniel had already gone back into Pull-Ups full-time before the trip, so we left it as-is. I would not have wanted to do it with an unreliably potty-trained kid, to be honest.

What did you do for the sleeping arrangements? Did they provide two cribs for you?

Yep, we requested two Pack & Plays when I made the reservation. They weren’t in our rooms when we checked in, so I had to make an extra call. But once I did, they were delivered promptly. I’m glad I brought PnP sheets from home, as the ones they provided were a little threadbare.

In a scant two weeks, we are hitting the house of the mouse for a mini family vacation and my big race.  I’m pretty excited, and I think the kids are going to have a blast.  But I turn to you, dear internets, for tips on handling Disney World with two 2.5-year-olds.

We are staying on resort property (not on the monorail). We will be there basically 3 1/2 days.  I know that, as the kids are under 3 years old, they do not require park tickets and can even eat off of our plates at restaurants (thanks for that tip!).  I have every intention of coming back to the hotel for nap each afternoon. For this trip, I do not plan on leaving WDW to see other Orlando attractions.

Any spots or rides that we should make sure to visit? Just as importantly, any we should absolutely avoid?

While we almost never use a stroller day-to-day anymore, I’m thinking one is critical for the parks. Is it worth it to try to bring the BOB? I know the daily stroller rentals in the parks are pricey ($27/day if you pay in advance), but is it worth it to avoid the hassle of bringing our own?

I did go ahead and make reservations for a character breakfast. They may love it, they may freak out, but I’m taking the chance.

What are your favorite tips and tricks for Disney World with the under-3 set?

Is there anything more fun than holiday airline travel with two toddlers? Only when you get to do it by yourself.

That’s right, our frequent-flying family marked a new milestone over the weekend: our first flight with only one adult.  And we survived.

Of course, I suppose I wouldn’t have done it in the first place if I didn’t feel confident that I could do it.  Not only do we already have 15 or so round-trips already under our collective belt, but the kids are older now and (at least theoretically) able to comprehend and follow simple instructions.  So, when we had to plan the trip with M heading home five days before the rest of us (stupid on-call schedule), I was OK with it.

Then, I got lucky.  Turns out my mom and stepdad had a flight to Florida, on the same airline as us, leaving within half an hour of ours.  Brilliant! Two extra (adoring) adults to help us through security! The stars have aligned!

Or, not. My flight was canceled.  My options were to fly out the same day on the 9:50pm flight (arriving at 1 in the morning), or go the next morning at 8:30am.  Desperate as I was to get home, the late night flight just screamed of disaster.  So we stayed over, and I got to get the whole crew (and all of our crap) moving before sunrise.

The long and short of it is that we did fine. I psyched myself up to keep my happy cheerleader/lots-of-praise mom face on. Such good cooperating! Great listening! What big kids you are! I did my very best to remain sympathetic to tired, whiny requests to be picked up. I took advantage of the skycaps, and looked pathetic and desperate enough that someone moved me to the shorter security line and no one blinked when I said the carseats needed to be hand-inspected. The Travelmates remain one of the greatest inventions of all time, and we have gotten more than our money’s worth over the last two years. I couldn’t have made it to our gate without them.

A well-placed Starbucks with Odwalla smoothies and bananas made for a “special treat” kind of breakfast.

With two kids and one adult in the same row, there’s not enough space for both carseats.  Thankfully, we “practiced” going sans carseats for the first time on the way in, when we still had a second adult. This time, we were ready for the gate-check, and the kids carried their own backpacks.

As an aside, if you’re considering doing this for the first time, check to see what plane the airline usually flies on your chosen route.  I’m a die-hard JetBlue fan and fly them whenever possible. But the plane that does the Boston-Chicago route is only four seats across (two and two), so it simply wasn’t an option.  We switched to American simply because the plane in question had three seats together.

Anyways, the usual bag o’ snacks was a good hit, as were carefully-rationed treats. Daniel kept himself busy with two of our favorite iPhone apps (Wheels on the Bus and Itsy Bitsy Spider).  Rebecca was entertained for most of our ground delay (woo, de-icing) by the “stories” conveniently available in the pocket in front of her.

And then, of course, there is the savior of parents everywhere: the portable DVD player with two headphone jacks and Cars.  Rebecca watched the entire thing, only getting antsy and tired as we approached the end of our flight (and naptime).  Daniel was on headphone strike, but still watched most of it without audio.

A super-friendly and helpful flight attendant let them play with an empty plastic coffee pot and the flashlight on his keychain while we waited to get off, and even held their hands all the way out of the jetway while I wrangled the carseats.

And when we walked through the doors past security and the kids ran shrieking to Daddy, I almost burst into tears from joy and exhaustion. My four-hour nap that day was well-earned, and I can now check off another accomplishment.  While I wouldn’t say it was exactly easy, I now know I can do it.

Staying at your parents’ house as an adult is a weird thing, isn’t it? Some things you see with fresh eyes, and other times you revert back to an awkward preteen.  I’ve noticed some habits working both for and against me this week.

On the positive side, it would seem that 4+ months of regular exercise is actually becoming an ingrained habit.  Oh sure, part of it is that I’m only about three pounds away from my first weight-related goal, and I don’t want to get completely sidetracked while I’m here.  But really, when have I ever brought an exercise DVD with me to (either of) my parents’ house(s)?  When have I ever used the treadmill they have in their basements?  That would be a big, fat never.

And yet, here I am.  I have done the Shred. I have progressed to Week 3 of the Couch-to-5K program (yes, I’m trying to run… more on that later).  I have exercised more days than not.  And I’m glad.

I’m particularly glad, because the flipside is that old eating habits die really hard.  I’ve been reasonably good with my eating these last few months (hence the 3-pounds-from-first-goal thing). But much of my success has come from controlling what foods I have access to. I haven’t purchased a pint of ice cream since the summer. I have baked shockingly few cookies (by my standards). I don’t keep crap in the house, so I can’t eat it.  I have a pretty limited menu, but it works for me.

And then I get here. Without even thinking, I walk into my dad’s kitchen and open the doors to the pantry to peruse the junk food. Cookies. Chips. All variety of things that I don’t ever buy, but find almost impossible to resist when they’re right there in my face. No control over what is served at big family dinners. Dad buys a dozen bagels (from my favorite bagel shop) for breakfast.  Ugh.

I’ve tried to keep some of my go-to items on hand, and have tried to stick to my 8PM rule.  But, clearly, four well-behaved months have not cured me of 30 years of bad eating habits.

But still, I will try to keep fighting the good fight, and not beat myself up too much for what happens here, away from home.  Just a few more days, and I’ll be back in my own space.  In the meantime, pass the cookies…

Oh, the fun things you get to do.

Play an improvised game of ping pong ON TOP of the ping pong table.

Have smoothies for breakfast on the kitchen floor with grandma.

Dig in to extra baby shower cake with grandpa.

Visit an aquarium way cooler than our own.

Hang out with seldom-seen (or never-before-seen) family.

And wear goggles at any time of day or night.