You see, last Sunday was not really a Sunday, because it was a three-day weekend, but even more importantly, because I was on the far away island of "Kansas" where time is slowed down.
It started in the wee wee hours of Friday morning, February 17. We woke up at 3:30. Which was made even more sad by the fact that Molly thought it would be a good idea to wake up screaming at 2:30 and 12:30 before that. Fine. Up at 3:30. Flight was off the ground around 6:35. Stopped in Phoenix before going to the bustle and hubbub of Kansas City. Molly flew like a champ. People actually stopped to tell us how impressed they were with her behavior on the flights. Hooray.
We picked up an awesome little shitbox from the airport, Paul wrestled the carseat into it, and we were off to Overland Park to visit Paul's dad and stepmom. Molly was pretty fed up with being strapped into a chair by the time we got there, and refused to nap for a while before spending the next several days being absolutely spoiled and exhausted by nonstop play with Linda.
Sunday morning we went to the park! In Overland Park! Which apparently is a bizarre thing to do. All the houses, even those that were within 30 yards of the playground, have their own playground in their backyards. So I guess there's no need to go to the public park. So we had it to ourselves. Molly saw ducks and geese! Later on at her grandparents' house, she got to play with bubbles for the first time.
The flights back were not nearly as nice. Molly was fussy and tired but barely slept, and woke up halfway through the second flight in a very very angry mood. BABY VERY ANGRY. We tried everything to keep her shut up to get off the flight. It was not fun but we all lived. As bad as it seemed, I know a lot of toddlers are way way worse on flights.
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