This post needs pictures

Ugh, I've been meaning to post all of this for weeks -does anyone else get major blog back-up paired with a complete lack of desire to post? It's a nasty combination... one that I sometimes fear that it is lethal and has no cure.

Anyway, I did want to repost this story I already post on HG for many of you who don't read HG, sorry for the repeat for those who do:

A few weeks ago was Laine's last week at preschool. She will be sad to say goodbye to David, her first 'boyfriend' she's had at school all year. He is such a sweetie cutie. He always led her to the door and helped her sit in her seat. He's a real gentleman at the ripe old age of 4.Last week when I went to pick her up it was just David and Laine left. I talked to David's Mom for a minute and then Laine came up and interupted me with the usual patting and 'Mom Mom Mom!'. I finally stopped my converation and said, 'What??' and she said {as David's Mom was right there listening of course}:'

Mommy... I don't want Daddy break David's legs, cause he's my friend...'

Ah! I was so mortified! Obviously as I had ooed and awed over how cute they were, Ben was polishing his rifle and getting out his baseball bat -he seriously HATES hearing the cute stories. So the threat of breaking his legs was one of Daddy's usual responses and I was SO embarrased as Laine overshared. It actually was pretty funny though.

That was also a few days after I attempted to wear the first hat I'd worn in years. With my short hair I felt like I truly looked like a lesbian or homeless -or even possibly a homeless lesbian {nothing wrong with it! Just not the look I typically go for...} Now that my hair has grown out some, I thought I'd brave it.

I came out of my room with Laine beaming "Mom, you look so cute!" -Wow, that was the reception I was hoping for and more! Then she followed it up with "Yeah, you look like a Dad!" ...hmmm

Seems like something else funny happened, if only I could remember. This is why you should blog more often, so you don't forget! Maybe it was the 75 year old pregnant man in a blonde wig and pink sparkly outfit we saw on the streetcorner before we left... not sure...

So how as the flight you ask?

Hell.

It truly was. Gabe slept all of 45 mintues during the whole 14 hours. Instead he stuck to a healthy regimen of 1 part running up and down the aisles laughing during the 'night' when the plane was dark and most everyone was trying desperately to sleep -including me. 2 parts kicking the seat in front of him as if it were his last kicks on earth. 2 parts using my quads as a trampoline. 1 part practicing for his big debut as a WWF wrestler. 3 parts sending Daddy to a fit so severe he may need anger management afterall. 1 part waking Laine from her blissful rest. 2 parts playing with his Thomas trains, praise the heavens. 1 part spilling drinks or food and then whining about it. 1 part meltdown... let's see, am I forgetting anything? The look {I mean scowl} on the crusty old woman's face in the row in front of us WAS priceless, and surprisingly it never did get old.

And a huge thanks to the Quantas team who was so patient and didn't treat us like we were diseased because we had children unlike some airlines I know of {UNITED!}

Okay, I'm getting the urge to get out my paperbag since posting this has not been the therapy I hoped it would be, instead it is inducing rage as I'm forced to relive it. Out.