Because we are flying Grammy Pammy Aire to/from Durango this year, we couldn’t leave immediately for Colorado following work on Friday like we normally do. Instead, we hung around Dallas waiting for the right weather conditions to present themselves. Saturday and Sunday were stormy, but we were finally able to get out on Monday.
The fabulous thing about having my mother fly us to Colorado is that our normal 14+ hour drive (one way) to our personal heaven on Earth was shaved down to a mere 4 hours and one minute. And that was with headwinds the entire flight and dodging a thunderstorm near Taos. Granted, I found myself lying on the floor, clutching an airsickness bag and feeling like death for most of the journey, but I take serious satisfaction in the fact that I made it all the way to Durango without throwing up. Even after I was presented with a baby with a blown off diaper approximately half way through the flight. Most people judge success by looking back on years of accomplishments and personal achievements. This was one of those times. I honestly believe that one of my finest moments in life to date was keeping my whole wheat toast down at 16,000 feet in storm-related turbulence while wrist deep in one of the fullest (and nastiest) poopy diapers Banner has ever produced.
If I do nothing else in life, I can now say that I looked nausea in the face and won. I might lose the ongoing war with it, but, boy, I won that battle, and it was sweet.
Banner, as it turns out, has his father’s stomach. Which means both my boys were absolutely fine for the entire journey. In fact, the only time Banner fussed was when he got hungry while Trevor was asleep and I was a deep shade of unhelpful green in the back.
We were supposed to take off early in the morning, but were delayed getting out of town for a variety of last minute reasons. But Banner’s first flight officially started at 12:40 PM CST and ended at 3:41 MDT.
Here are some of the pictures documenting the experience:
|What are you doing lying on the ground, Mommy?|