Shots and Strangers

What a weekend. Not only did I just endure four flights with two layovers all alone with Mom, I also had my thighs stabbed three times by the very nice nurse at Dr. Ip's office. But let me start at the beginning.

Thursday morning I was rudely awakened in the middle of the night and hustled out to Daddy's car, which he drove like a maniac to the airport in Mexico City. We got there in plenty of time, but that didn't seem to help Mom's stress levels much. She was trying to act calm, cool and collected just to prove to Dad that she could handle me by herself, but I wasn't fooled.

When we finally boarded the airplane she realized that she couldn't put her extra bag of crap (sorry Mom) in the overhead bin while holding me and my diapers. So she basically thrust me into the arms of a very nice stranger who offered to help. I think she meant with the bags, not with me, but she took it all in stride and said she has twins. Sheesh - I can't imagine Mom having to deal with TWO of me.... Anyway, I am not much of a morning person unless everything is on my terms, and this whole sitting-on-Mom's-lap-while-the-creepy-businessman-in-the-next-seat-stares-at-my-food-source thing was not my cup of tea. I pitched a fit and smiled to myself at the horrified faces of the snobs in first class.

After a quick layover in Dallas and a short flight to St. Louis, we were in Uncle Brian's truck -Britney Spears Style - heading to Grandmas. Aunt Lizzie came in from Vermont later that night and we had a very fun weekend of shopping (yes, at Target) and eating. I got to see Mrs. Bennett (who is really Grandma) and Mr. Dave and they sang me some new songs, which was nice since all Mom ever sings is something about sunshine and she doesn't even know all the words. Mommy had a little more than her alloted glass of wine a day, but I pretended I didn't notice. She was on vacation.

Then the unthinkable happened. I was stabbed. Here I am, all cute and cooperative on the way to the hospital, lying naked and defenseless in my slightly wet diaper on a very cold table, and suddenly a needle was coming right at my pefectly dimpled thigh. Then another. And ANOTHER. I was pissed! (sorry Mom). But I got over it with some yummy Tylenol and a trip to BabiesRUs for a supercute and not-too-girly "I Got My Shots Today" outfit. But man, what an ordeal.

Now I'm safe and sound in Mexico, bandaids off and supercute outfit in my closet. Mommy is back to torturing me with constant photo shoots and forced afternoon "Quiet Times." I do have a new swing seat though, and I have decided to reward Mom for lugging through two airports by actually sitting quietly while it plays God-awful music and makes me slightly dizzy .

We are counting down the days to New York -- God only knows how flustered she'll be on that trip...