45 Minutes Before the Wedding

I’ve been wandering around Las Vegas with my sister for six hours in over 100 degree heat. I have 45 minutes to get ready for the wedding and I have 16 month old JJ who has not had a nap. Fortunately JJ has discovered the white tiled bathroom, bigger than any bedroom I’ve ever had, is a great place to hang out and screech. Thus figuring he would be entertained, I step into the shower, keeping an eye on him through the clear glass door. While I wash my hair, his screams echo off the walls. Then silence. He has disappeared from my sight. So I do a rush rinse job and slip across the cold white tile. JJ is amusing himself in the little room where the toilet resides. He’s tearing toilet paper into tiny bits and dropping bits piece by piece into the toilet. He has also managed to wash his hands in there plus he’s tugging at his diapers, his signal that they are full of poop.

I decide the best option would be to put JJ in the bathtub. No sooner is he in there, when the phone rings. No problem. This bathroom happens to have a phone in it. The call is the anxious bridesmaid asking for help zipping up the brides dress. I politely explain my situation and suggest she call the bride’s mother.

While I’m drying my hair, JJ learns how to turn on the faucet. I toss in a couple of paper coffee cups to distract him. This works long enough to finish drying my hair and apply one half of my face. Now I toss in the plastic soap dish figuring that would be good for a few extra minutes.

Not wanting to wear nylons in the Las Vegas heat and seeing that JJ is still entertained, I figure this would be a good opportunity to try out a new product I recently discovered - spray on nylons. So I step back in the shower stall. While keeping an eye on JJ, I evenly spray both legs, up and down, all around. Hmmm, looks good but perhaps a bit more would look better. So I spray again.

JJ has had enough of the bathtub now and is dumping soggy coffee cups of water all over the floor. His shriveled fingers indicate that he’s had plenty of time in the bathtub. As I wrap him in his towel, I notice my nude-beige footprints across the white tile. I utter a bemused “oh oh” which happens to be JJ’s favorite expression these days which triggers him to dance around the bathroom screeching “oh oh” at the top of his lungs. Now we have little footprints marching all over the big ones.

I get down on my shiny, polished knees with a fluffy white washcloth and try to clean up the mess. JJ, being the imitator that he is, does the same. I end up with two skin brown marbled rags and a floor that looks like a mudroom recently visited by rubber booted children returning from a mud pie party. So I dump a bit of shampoo on the floor and scrub until the prints fade into pale pinkish blobs. The shower door is still open. I look in there. The 4x4 white tiled cubicle now resembles the cage of an elephant with diarrhea. Meanwhile, hubby comes back (he’s been out playing slot machines) and announces that we have five minutes to get down to the wedding chapel. Before we get out the door the phone rings again. It’s our son, the groom, letting me know that the wedding cake will be arriving any minute and our room has been selected for the reception.

To be continued…

Las Vegas Here We Come

Following the instructions on our Internet processed e-tickets, we arrive at the airport two hours prior to flight time; “we” being me, hubby and 16 month old grandson, JJ. Somehow we manage to juggle two suitcases (one with broken wheels), two shoulder sagging carry-ons, one baby who suffers from lack of sleep and breakfast, and one easy-to-collapse-umbrella stroller unto the shuttle bus, off the shuttle bus, and through the three rope check-in line. So far, so good.

Approaching the security check-point with hastened steps, we screech to an abrupt stop at the end of a 10 rope line. JJ starts to kick the nice young couple in front of us. As we start to offer apologies, a special needs security guard motions for us to come over to his line. We are relieved to discover we are eligible for the express line due to our accompanying infant. Just ahead of us we see our son and his bride are also getting this special express service. We wonder if it’s because they are carrying a wedding gown or because the bride is obviously pregnant. I try to explain to the guard how JJ would be much more at ease through this transition if he could be left in the stroller. No way. So we hold up the line while we unbuckle the baby, remove him from stroller, and juggle our two carry-ons, all while attempting fit the not-so easy-to-collapse-umbrella stroller through the monitoring tunnel. We are thankful that we are not asked to remove our shoes.

By now JJ decides breakfast is long overdue. He kicks and screams while I try to strap him back into the stroller just as the overloaded diaper bag drops off my shoulder and whacks the stroller across the room. Of course hubby is too busy gathering together his carry-on and reclaiming his jacket to notice the stroller working it’s way down the sloped ramp. I scoop up JJ, who has now squirmed his way down to the floor, and catch the runaway stroller just before it slams into a young couple grappling with their own screaming toddler.

Next stop – breakfast. It looks like the easiest and safest bet is the most overpriced item on the menu board, a Frequent Flyer Croissant. I order two croissants, two coffees and orange juice while hubby wrestles baby from stroller to a high chair that he has dragged out from behind a computer geek who is so absorbed in his laptop that he can’t scoot his chair in even an inch to make things easier. Hubby and I exchange places. I try to amuse JJ with cheerios while hubby waits for our order. JJ is throwing cheerios at the computer geek (who still has not budged) by the time we get our food. I pick apart my soggy croissant offering the scrambled egg to JJ. He eats as if he hadn’t been fed in days and grabs the bottle of orange juice, pouring half of it down his new shirt before I get my first bite. Next thing I know, he’s dancing on top of the high chair making raspberry sounds at the computer geek, who still has not moved. I give up, wrap up what’s left of my breakfast, put screaming baby in stroller, and head to the waiting area. Hubby lags behind with both carry-ons.

We have an hour left before flight time. I eat the soggy and cold croissant as I chase JJ around, up and over the seats and tables, apologizing as we stumble over baggage and feet. The announcement for people with small children to board comes 20 minutes before flight time and to me it seems completely inept to load children on early, so I take JJ to the ladies room for a quick diaper change. I return him to hubby and go back to the ladies room wishing I hadn't gulped down all that coffee. Then I realize that I have not washed the sour milk out of JJ’s morning bottle so I head back to the ladies room once again with moments to spare as the final boarding call is announced.

And so we are on the plane. The plane does not move. There is some mumbling going on near the cockpit. A flight attendant picks up the phone, “sorry there will be a slight delay due to a mechanical problem.” JJ is bouncing back and forth across our laps, hubby scrunched in middle seat and me on the aisle, in coach seating. Son and his bride sit in their upgraded first class seats sipping free drinks (next time I’m going to carry on a bridal dress). After a 20 minute struggle, a flight attendant suggests that I run JJ up and down the ramp a few times. We get to run up and down for 40 minutes before it is decided that we can safely take off. JJ is now wound up and it takes half the flight to get him to sleep. He is not happy when we land, place him back in the stroller, and haul him around to collect baggage, get our hotel room keys, and arrange the rental car. He is not happy when we lift him, stroller and all, into the shuttle bus. He is not happy when we release him from the stroller and confine him to a car seat.

We arrive at Caesar’s. We miss the valet sign and end up in the self-parking section. It’s over 100 degrees and we have no luggage cart and must walk a quarter mile around construction zone. Once inside the cool casino, JJ perks up. His eyes widen, his arms swing, and his screams of delight are muted by din of slots, screeching winners and resounding music. He laughs at his image in the elevator mirror. At last we approach our room. We dump our luggage at the door and put the card key in the slot. There seems to be some commotion in the room. “Yikes” a young lady wails. It seems the room is already occupied.

To be continued.

Las Vegas

We went to Las Vegas. JJ went with us. Chris and Michelle got married.



The rest of the pictures are on PictureTrail

There are lots of stories to tell but I am way too tired, plus JJ is still clinging to my side.

Mutterings

Read an article in the newspaper this morning. About bloggers. It seems there are over 2.5 million blogs. Some of them are long ago abandoned. We lose interest in blogging. I haven't lost interest. I still enjoy putting some words out there once in a while. Even if I have only a few readers. So what. I do it for me.

Haven't done mutterings.bmp for a while. So here it is.

1. Abundance:: simple
   
2. Casino:: where i'll be in wednesday
   
3. Shell:: oil
   
4. Overpriced:: neiman marcus
   
5. Cancellation:: waiver
   
6. Eternal:: hope
   
7. Lyrics:: songs
   
8. Faith:: hope
   
9. Because:: i said so
   
10. Wimp:: hmmmmmm, rather not say
    

Bookcrossing

Just finished reading this. Fiction. Easy read. Wondering why I don't write a book...


Now I must read something spiritual just because I like a good variety and need to know it all. So here it is.

Do you release your books through bookcrossing.com ?

Readstuff

Another Red Hat

I bought a hat today.


It looks better on the dog.

Skittles??? Me?????

You're Skittles!!! You have a very interesting
personality, you're so unique. You're the kind
of person who always thinks outside of the box.
You're also a very accepting individual, and
believe in inner beauty.


Which kind of candy are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Queen Bitch

A friend of mine found this at DetailsArt.com



Not only do I want one of these, I love the artist's sentiment:

Artistic Passion
Let's give ourselves the courage to keep going when no one else believes in us.
The vision to be able to see past the fear to where beauty lies.
Passion for everything we do.
Truth in always listening to our inner selves and
possibilities because anything is possible if we really believe.
Let's give ourselves the gift of responsibility so we may have a say in our lives.

Joey

I Need a Good Movie

I needed a good movie. I needed to laugh. So I picked up the Chronicle yesterday and read through all the reviews. I looked for the little-man-jumping-out-of-his-seat icon. There were only a couple movies that made the cut. They weren't comedies. So I took a chance. I ignored the little-man-with-head-leaning-on-arm and went to see Raising Helen. The review said something about bits of humor... I never cry in movies. Never. It's all Micky's fault. I cried. sob...sob...sob...

Monday Madness

Just because I haven't done this for a while, here's my Monday Madness.

1. In your opinion, what is the perfect temperature?
70 degrees, sunny, slight breeze

2. If you have a garden, what do you plant in it? If not, what would you plant in it?
I planted a packet full of Nasturtium seeds. They sprouted. They are almost dead. If the Nasturtiums won't bloom for me, how could I be entrusted with any other living plant?

3. What is your favorite summertime beverage?
Tall glass of ice tea, lots of ice, slice of lemon. Pet peeve: being served ice tea with no ice.

4. How many times a year do you rearrange your living room?
Once, then I pay for it with a back ache that lasts 364 days.

5. How fast do you drive in a '55 mile-an-hour' zone?
55 unless there are no visible patrol cars.

6. How many minutes per day do you usually talk on the phone?
As little as possible. I never use up my cell phone minutes.

7. What is your favorite software program?
Anything that is on my palm pilot.

8. How many music cd's do you own?
About a dozen. I hate to pay for music.

9. How many memes do you participate in on a regular basis?
Lately, none. Got tired of them but now that I seem to be in sort of a brain fog, I might do some just to get going again.

10. Name 3 blogs that you have on your 'blogroll' list. (any 3.)
You pick three from my list. I'm having too much trouble making up my mind lately.

Comment

I've got comments. Or maybe I should say, I will have comments. Why? Because Blogger has made this available and I just thought I'd try it. So, go ahead. But remember, I have the power of deletion!!!