Party of Two: Portland, September 2010: Day One

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

After a long, fun morning with my sister, Akari, which involved lots of remote-control motorcycle playtime, a nice stroll, and inaugural Starbucks salted caramel hot chocolates (yum! glad to find out it's that time of year again), my parents gave us a ride to the airport.

I've been having shoulder issues, so for the first time in my life, I'd packed over a day earlier, knowing it would take me ages to do. Whoa! What an amazing and liberating feeling, to spend the following day fully relaxed, knowing all our stuff was already packed neatly into a bag and sitting by the door. A real eye-opener! (Not that I'll likely ever repeat this amazing feat, unless another future pre-trip injury ever occurs...but eye-opening nevertheless.)

Ayize was so happy to be strolling through O'Hare hand-in-hand with his beloved Grandma and Grandpa. I was dreading the moment we split from them to head away towards security...

...but I had talked about our trip repeatedly in the days before we left, and I guess he really did understand, because when the time came, he said only once, "I want Grandma and Papa" and then he just heaved a sad little sigh, asked to be picked up, and called "bye-bye" to them as they waved to us from the other side of the security ropes. (Oh yeah...and then he ran under the ropes at one point and tried to say goodbye up close, alarming a TSA officer, who still let me duck under to retrieve him.)

Anyhow, my parents waved, Ayize waved back, and I reminded him that we were going on a little trip and that we would see Grandma and Grandpa again in about a week. "And where are we going?" I asked him.

He replied triumphantly, "Unca Jo Jo!"

Score.

Sure enough, he remained cheerful. We had to kill about twenty minutes before boarding and he was definitely losing steam (though in his defense, I'd fought some hard battles all day to keep him from napping yet, hoping to earn some sleep time on the plane), but he still held himself together beautifully, if tiredly.

Finally, it was time for the pre-board. We were literally the first ones to get on the plane (and the last to leave - but more on that later!)

He got a second wind the minute we boarded, much to my surprise, but I knew sleep was coming soon, and I could tell it would be hard for him to snooze well unless we had a window seat he could stretch out against. As people piled on, our window seat was the last to remain empty. Then a sweet lady named Sheila came onboard. She was awesome, super sweet, and let us switch seats so that Ayize could take the window and we could give her our aisle (I sat in the middle). Hurrah!

He did stay awake as we began to taxi, as you can see by this video. In fact, he hardly noticed takeoff because he was so busy "reading" his book aloud (The Three Little Rigs, a long-time favorite)...

...but once we actually got up in the air, he was excited to watch the ground drop away.

Thanks again, Sheila! Actually, a double thanks, because with her help, he got a good long nap, almost an hour and a half.

I was happy that he was sleeping because we went through some wicked turbulence as we passed through the clouds. It was intense enough to elicit "wheee" from all the older kids but an entire symphony of "ugh" and "uhhhh" and "oh!" from pretty much the entire adult capacity of the plane as we dropped down in places and leaped up in others, our stomachs churning. I stayed quiet but I was terrified (I always have this horribly-guilty feeling about putting my kid on a tin can racing through the sky) and I was happy he was asleep because it allowed me the ability to hold him in my arms, as he was completely relaxed from sleep, so I could shield him from bonking his head on the window or the armrests.

Luckily, the bumps and shaking only lasted about ten minutes and then we were clear; I gently moved him so that he could lay his head on my lap as he snoozed.

It was such a nice break for me! I read my new book (Little Earthquakes, which I grabbed for 50 cents at the library, a lightweight novel about urban mamahood), played Sudoku on my DS, and listened to my iShuffle. Woo hoo! Mini-Mama holiday!!

And then he rustled in my lap, opened his eyes, and woke up, almost bonking his head on the tray table where I'd set a cup of water for him for when he woke up.

Once he was up, he was bored (big surprise), but I had an awesome secret weapon to bust out: I'd found a brand-new, in-the-box, "used" Play-Doh Fun Factory for a few bucks at Hand Me Downs a couple months ago, and had been saving it for a special occasion. He was so thrilled to play with it (and YES, I had fun too). Those things were great when we were kids and they're even cooler now. So we killed about 45 minutes squishing out bunches of "spaghetti" and using the plastic molds to shape bugs and cars. Ayize found the little plastic knife snapped into the underside of the press handle and he happily cut to his heart's content.

When he finally grew bored of squishing and slicing, I pulled out his little folding Matchbox Pop-Up Adventure: Fire Station (a neighbor gave me ten ziplock bags and a box filled with unsold toys, books and other great stuff last week after her two-day garage sale ended) and he spent another 30 minutes or so playing with that.

We dipped into our food bag and ate some pasta, cheese dipper pretzels, and a dried papaya, pineapple and mango mix, but he ate fast so I found myself with another hour to kill. I busted out our temporary mini-DVD player (thank you, Sony Style of Old Orchard, for being so awesome in a pinch when our actual portable player broke a few days before our trip!) and he watched for 20 or 30 minutes, but then a stewardess came on over the intercom instructing us to turn off all electronic devices to prepare for landing. Turned out that the wind was on our side, and the pilot had managed to shave almost 20 minutes off our estimated flight time.

WOO HOO!!!

I was probably the most appreciative human being on the plane! Not because of anything Ayize was doing, actually - the time had actually flown by, and he'd not only slept for a bit, but behaved amazingly well despite being forced to sit still for so long: no seatback-kicking, no attempted gymnastics, no whining or tantrums - but even so, my neck and shoulder were killing me from holding awkward positions for long periods of time, trying to assist Ayize first in his sleep and then in his wakeful state, so I was super-mega-ready to disembark and stretch all my various and sundry sore body parts a bit. Of course, it always takes 30 or 40 minutes to actually land and taxi, so we spent the time re-reading The Three Little Rigs and playing with a couple "tiny treasures" I'd stashed, all also gifts from our garage-sale neighbor: a tiny wind-up monster truck; a little plastic horse with moving legs; and three large gold-colored "power coins" imprinted with Mighty Morphin Power Ranger animals in a clip-shut holder. The time literally flew by (no pun intended) and before I knew it, we were on the ground.

Yee-haw!

We were the last ones off the plane since we sat two seats from the back, and let everyone behind us leave first - we'd been so cramped into our seats that I'd been unable to pack up my carry-on until I could physically move Ayize into Sheila's vacated aisle seat. The stewardesses were kind but firm as they hustled us offboard, and Ayize chose that moment to decide to crawl. Literally. Like, get down on all fours and begin to crawl ahead of me down the aisle, crowing, "I, baby Ayize! I Mama's baby!" I could see the head stewardess laughing up ahead, from where she stood at the front of the first class cabin by the exit door, and when we finally reached her, she stopped us just to tousle his hair and enthuse several times that he was so cute, "the cuuuu-test" (I was beaming)...but before that could happen, we first had to make our way up the aisle. My left arm was filled with my carry-on bag and our hoodies, and my right arm was kind of doing the useless dangle tango, being overtaxed by the long flight and too much usage. I literally had to nudge Ayize ahead with my ankles and insteps.

Behind me, the other two stewardesses were frustrated and impatient and began to verbally chide us, plus the cleaners had boarded in the back and were hustling along, needing to move too. I turned back and explained, embarrassed, that I was so sorry but I could hardly use my right arm, and could they please either pass me, or...? They both simultaneously noticed my "flat tire" and completely changed demeanor; one moved past me apologetically, the other scooped up Ayize and carried him all the way to the front of the airplane. I felt really bad about delaying their probably-short break from flying, and I was so touched and grateful for their help and understanding. This was our third time flying Alaska Airlines and they really have some of the nicest staff!

Once offboard, Ayize alternately danced (this strange side-to-side, flapping-arms thing) and crawled his way through the airport towards the exit where people await passengers. It was pretty maddening so I had to work hard to keep my cool. I noodged and noodged and noodged him along, my arms full, my patience nearing its endpoint.

Finally, we entered the beginning of the corridor along which people wait to receive family and friends. Ayize dropped down on the ground and lay there, refusing to move, laughing at his own comic genius. Just when I thought I was going to walk away in frustration and try to scare him into following, Jo Jo came to the rescue: I heard his voice from the crowd proclaim, "I got him," and then he came past the ropes and scooped him up for me.

It was so great to see Jo Jo and Bahar again! The last time I arrived at this same airport, they were a few days away from being married. Now they were hubby and wife, and we were a few days from attending the wedding of friends.

Jo wrested Ayize up and away, much to his delight, and we all proceeded to the baggage claim to grab my bag. Ayize enjoyed himself mightily, dancing his patented Peg Leg jig for the benefit of bystanders, trying to climb onboard the swiftly-moving baggage carousel, and reaching up to hit elevator buttons whenever possible. "Mama, I need to push button," he told me, importantly, and Bahar laughed as I corrected him with a, "No, you want to push button, sir. Big difference!"

We gathered our stuff and made our way to the top floor of the parking structure, Jo Jo's traditional spot.

The view of the setting sun through the grid-like structure of the airport walkway cover.

Jo Jo, getting ready to close Bahar's car door. I snapped this PUR HRT picture because I was just so damn happy to be back in Portland and sentimental at seeing the old car in its old airport spot.

The view of the sunset sky as we left the airport.

Jo Jo gave Ayize this coveted "ticket" (actually, an airport parking receipt) to happily wield as we drove off, heading towards home. We made one quick stop en route to a Burgerville drive-thru to grab dinner for Ayize.

But in the end, he only ate a large amount of Basmati rice and three huge umeboshi (Japanese pickled fruits, a sort-of a cross between a plum and an apricot - if you can imagine); I ended up being the lucky recipient of Ayize's Spicy Anasazi Bean burger because I totally forgot, in my travel exhaustion, to ask the Burgerville folks to put the flaming-hot chipotle mayo on the side. Which was good news for me, at any rate - I love those things!

Dinner over, it was time for some drumming. A fave activity at Uncle Jo's house on every visit, I've noted.

The ol' pop-up fire station came back out to play, and it was time for some Matchbox power-lifting as he polished off dessert (mandarin orange slices).

Jo Jo wanted to check out a problem I'd been having with the music function on my iPhone, but Ayize convinced him to play Matchbox cars instead (he can be doggedly persuasive when he wants to be).