The kids and I flew to Seattle today.
I'm confident traveling with just one kid.
But both babies and no Reece?
Insert panic attack here.
Thankfully my parents were wonderful enough to get us set up at curbside check in and walked us all the way to security, where Lola told Nana not to be sad because we would see her soon.
She's a good egg, that one.
My mother-in-law saved the day and my sanity by joining us on our voyage.
We got to say a quick goodbye to Auntie Di, Easton and Eva.
Lola loves those cousins of hers.
My kids are great little travelers, but trying to get all our stuff, our giant stroller and ourselves through security would have been a nightmare without Cyndi.
Lola, being completely scarred by the Pinocchio ride at Disneyland, freaked out a little as we boarded the plane.
Poor kid lives in constant fear that a giant jack-in-the-box is waiting beyond every unknown door.
But once we made it to our seats (we had a row to ourselves -- thank you Microsoft), she adapted quite nicely to life as a jetsetter.
Note the roughly four million bandaids on her legs.
The obsession has flared up again with a fiery vengeance, and though no one threatened to call child protective services, three flight attendants warned me she was destined to become a tattoo enthusiast.
Thanks for that.
She tattooed the airplane, her brother, her nana and her mother with princess stickers throughout the flight.
Whatever keeps my girl happy.
But the highlight came a few minutes after I finished nursing James.
Lola grabbed her Minnie Mouse, pulled up her shirt and asked me to tie my blanket around her neck.
"Mom, Winnie is hungry. I need to nurse her."
"Mom, she's eating!"
"Winnie, stop biting!"
Such a good little mama.