I'm so happy to be back at home! The trip went well--Sean was GREAT on the plane, and many people went out of their way to admire his Extreme Cuteness. It is altogether fitting and proper that they do this.
Getting through security at Hartsfield is always a big pain because the lines are so long; but getting through with a baby in a stroller when you are all by yourself is . . . interesting. I tossed everything into the buckets and put them on the conveyor belt, then took him out and set him on the floor so I could fold up the stroller. While I was placing the stroller on the conveyor belt, Sean escaped! But I got him. Why they don't just wand the damn strollers for explosives or whoosiwhatzits, I don't know. Seriously. Instead, they make us all take the babies out of the strollers and fold them (the strollers, not the babies) up and put them on the conveyor belts, providing the babies an opportunity for FREEDOM!
I was very glad to meet up with my sister, so there was someone else who could help me keep up with the critter. There is safety--and power--in numbers.
The funeral, although sad of course, was very cool. His ashes were interred at Riverside National Cemetery, which I learned will surpass Arlington in a few years as the largest military cemetery. It is huge. They do funerals all day, every day. Each group of mourners pulls up into a "Staging Area" and awaits a lead car that takes you to the place where the service is held. And you must be on time or else the military peopleguys will fuss at you (we were on time--but I've heard stories!). The ceremony was nice: a 21 gun salute, "Taps," salutes from past and present members of the military (including my father), the presentation of the flag to my grandmother. You don't get to go to the gravesite until the next day, which we did.
Sean was a popular favorite the entire weekend. My grandma took us on a golf cart ride, which he LOVED. He is beginning to get verbal--he points and says many monosyllabic grunty noises, like "guh" and "bah" and "duh." Cars are generally "guhs" or "ppppbpbpbppbpbp" (motor noises). Ceiling fans are "bahs." He pointed and grunted during the entire golf cart ride--very cute. He even let Grandma hold him a couple of times. I think she liked meeting him. :o) What can I say? He's a Keeper.
On the way back home, I forgot Sean's sippy cup had water in it, so I got to experience my first personal baggage inspection. The lady was very nice and oh-so-carefully opened the sippy cup, held a litmus strip of some sort over it ("testing for vapors") and then let me take it through. Good thing I'm allowed to get through with greenhouse gases--for now!
The plane ride back home was fairly uneventful--although Sean had his first California poop about 2 minutes after the plane pushed back from the gate, necessitating a bring-it-on full-out knock-down drag-out diaper change the second the seatbelt sign got turned off. My sister and the soldier peopleguy next to her had to stand in the aisle while I wrassled with him. I won--but barely. Other than that little incident, he was a model airline passenger.
I returned home to a Ryan who had contracted Pukinson's Disease (he is much better) and landscaped flower beds! It was a big surprise for me, concocted by Brendan and our friend Kelly, who is all garden-y and stuff. They and the kids worked hard like peopleguys and it looks fabulous. Gerber daisies and lantana and a couple of other things. Brendan even let Kelly mow the lawn: he has an odd--but sweet--chivalry thing about women and lawn-mowing. (Works for me!).
I think the kids had fun while I was gone--well, before Pukinson's hit. They got new computer games (Railroad Tycoon and a neat-o looking one called World of Goo) and made Rice Krispie treats (aka "rice frisbees"--Morgan) and watched movies and had some good Daddy time.
I'm glad I went, and glad to be back. And a bit sad about being all out of grandfathers. :( And tired....so, goodnight!