Well, at least no one pooped on me

So. I neglected to mention this on here, but I traveled down to visit my parents this week. They were missing Jack and I wanted to get one more trip in while I still had the freedom of being a stay at home momma. Since it was a last minute decision, we couldn't get a direct flight like last time. I picked the shortest layovers possible and hoped everything would turn out okay.

And it did! Jack was WONDERFUL. He didn't cry. He didn't pee on himself. He didn't poop on himself or ME. He slept for most of both flights. He charmed the flight attendants and passengers. He was an absolute joy. That baby is such a trooper.

I, on the other hand, did NOT handle everything so well.

I had a little bit of trouble balancing my bulging diaper bag and the lightweight stroller and tipped it over at one point (Don't panic! Jack was NOT in the stroller when it tipped over.) and a kind lady helped me pick it back up. And I smiled and pretended like my face wasn't on fire from embarassment. Look at me! The stupid mom who can't keep her stroller upright!

I also freaked out when I couldn't get it to fold back up when my flight from Atlanta was about to board. (And a lady next to me kept watching Jack and reaching out for him any time he even THOUGHT about leaning forward because she was CONVINCED he was going to go flying off the seat while I wrestled with the stroller. Again! Look at me! Mom of the YEAR!) I panicked and called Alex whose advice ("I just kicked it!") didn't help. I wound up throwing myself on the mercy of the airline employees who were kind enough to close up, bag, and then walk the stroller down to the plane for me. (Thank you wonderful Airtran employees!)

I was so excited when we landed in New Orleans because we! had! made! it! I bent down to grab my diaper bag and laptop and...where is my laptop? It was right here. I put it down there. I KNOW I DID.

I checked everywhere. The seats in front of me. The seats behind me. The baggage area above the seats that I hadn't even touch. I got the flight attendant to help me. NO. LAPTOP. ANYWHERE.

I lost my laptop, y'all. I LOST IT.

It might be in Atlanta? Apparently I hallucinated bringing it on the plane because there is an unclaimed pink laptop in the Atlanta airport's lost and found. But no one was available to actually LOOK at said laptop and confirm that it is mine. So I will wait and see. And continue feeling stupid. Because I LOST my LAPTOP. Me! Internet geek extraordinare.

At least I didn't lose the baby, right?