Frazzled?!

I've been telling people lately that I've been frazzled. Everyone responds, "You mean you can't live up to your perfect standards?" I then ask them to look around --home, office, car-- and I say, "Do you think I'm aiming for perfection here?" Now I have a stellar example to demonstrate my current state of mind.

Before Shreyas was born, I committed to present at a Higher Education conference in Vancouver in November. We knew he'd be around 5 months so we decided to make it a family trip. We got his passport in the summer, researched flights, booked the hotel. Then we promptly forgot everything. All we knew was that we were leaving very early Thursday morning.

Fast forward to last Wednesday. I'm going into work and I have to 1) call the hotel to request a crib, and 2) check in for our flight since it's within 24 hours. I take care of #1. But I can't seem to find our flight. I check my personal email, my work email, our joint email: nothing. I find an email I sent to a friend Sept 23 saying, "Just bought our tix. See you in Vancouver!" I text my husband. He says we're flying Alaska. I text him again, saying it must be in his email. I go to Alaska's website. I don't have a confirmation number, but you can look up your flight by credit card; I try all three of my credit cards and nothing comes up. I am sure that my husband purchased the flights so I text him again, asking him to try his card online and see if it works. I then call Alaska and am on hold...forever...It's 6pm, time to teach, so I hang up and go. Our flight is only 12 hours away.

I'm driving home and my husband calls with the news: there is no record of our flight. We never purchased a flight! I get home, we discuss, he's found a new flight that's better (nonstop!) and worse (from LAX) but will get me there in time. Miraculously, it's about the same price as our original flight. We book it --for sure this time-- and finally get to bed around midnight.

No, the story is not even close to over.

I wake up before the alarm and prod my hubby awake, saying it's 5:57 and we might as well get up. I walk to the shower, turn it on, my husband's out of bed, looking at the clock. It's 4:58. Oops. I turn off the shower. We get back into bed. He asks, "Should we just get up and go now?" I answer, "What are we going to do there for an extra hour?" We talk. We can't sleep. It's 5:30 so we get up anyway. We had planned to leave by 6:30. Of course we leave late. It takes us an hour to get there. I am stressed the whole way because I need to make this flight. My husband is calm. He says it's no problem. I suggest parking at the airport instead of long term parking. My husband insists we are OK with time -he's already checked in, we just have to drop our bags. We finally get to the counter at 8:15 for our 9am flight. The lady at the counter coos at our baby. She's relaxed. We are calming down. We ask if we are OK with time and she realizes we are there for the 9am flight. Only then, when she tells us, do we realize: We are flying internationally.

Yes, we knew this. Of course we did! We got a passport for the baby! But now our bags cannot make the flight and we can't fly without our bags (FAA regulations!). The next flight gets in at 4pm but my presentation, the whole reason we're going on this trip, is at 1pm. My husband suggests I go ahead, without him, bags, or baby and he'll bring it all with him on the next flight. We realize he has no milk for the baby. He says he can drive back to Irvine, pick up some milk, make it back in time for the flight and meet me in Vancouver. We have a quick decision to make. So what do I do? I say, "I'll take the baby." How will I do my presentation? Who knows. But if I'm going to Canada, my baby's coming with me.

I'm not sure at this point if I'll even make the flight. Security won't let me up the escalators with the stroller. They say to take the elevators. The elevators only go down. Turns out I can go downstairs and check in with the stroller. I am running through the airport, pushing a stroller. The baby is laughing. He thinks it's a game. I'm thrilled because at least then I can laugh back so people around us don't think I'm a crazy mom running through the airport with my baby in his stroller about to miss my flight; they think I'm a caring fun mom who likes to play games with my baby, even in the airport. When we get to the gate they are paging us. We get on the flight. I text my husband that we made it. He reminds me that I have ONE friend attending this conference --maybe she can watch the baby? I text her a plea for help. And they close the gates.

Yes, baby and I made it to Canada just fine. Yes, my friend watched the baby for me. Yes, my husband and the bags made it on the next flight and we had a wonderful weekend in Vancouver. But there was lots more hilarity on the way. For example, I was wearing my coat because I knew it would be freezing when we landed, but the baby's warm clothes were all in his suitcase; when I realized his clothes were wet and he had to be changed out of PJs, I dressed him in the emergency clothes in his baby bag and put my fleece around him like a blanket. I had his warm hat with me so he was wearing: a short-sleeved onesie, pants, a bib, and a snow hat.

Yes, everything turned out ok. I thought about crying. But all I could do was laugh. This is my life.