Saturday in Arizona, I did a 35 minute strength class on my laptop in the empty workout room. Then I went for a 4.6 mile run . . . in the sunshine. Sorry, I couldn't resist.
You know what's a great motivator while running? Knowing that the Embassy Suites will end their free and wonderful complimentary breakfast at 10 am. I arrived sweaty and hungry at 9:51. Better than a finish line.
While I waited for my omelet, I hopped out of line to get a cup of water. I didn't want to waste my time going to my room for my big water bottle after my run, because I live in fear of missing out on free stuff. For example, I kept reminding myself not to get lost while running or I WOULD MISS BREAKFAST. I was still huffing and puffing. Then, overly eager to drink said water, it went down the wrong pipe. I choked. Do I have a drinking problem?
I had a mask, but I was coughing. Gagging. It wasn't pretty. I was trying to breathe through my nose and I REALLY wanted another chance at guzzling my water. I'm confident that the woman in front of me in line for an omelet suspected that I was positive for covid instead of just a thirsty eager beaver with a drinking problem.
I recovered. Enjoyed my free food, but first I filled up my water again while still waiting for my omelet. Then I promptly spilled my cup on water on the little cafeteria style counter where we were all waiting. I ran over and got some napkins, but by now everyone in line behind me was worried about me.
I need to turn back the clock and share the Dallas trip. The spilled drink reminded me . . .
Coach was scheduled to teach in Dallas Halloween weekend. I wanted to go. Remember, I have friends there. A couple I used to babysit for. Two of my favorite people.
The boys' behavior wasn't great. We couldn't both go to Dallas. Coach booked a flight. It was a one-day class. He'd fly home late Saturday night so I wouldn't be on my own with our challenges for too long.
Then, the boys went back to Indiana October 11th. The next day, I booked myself on the same flights as Coach.
I wore my cute dress/leggings combo. On the flight there, a couple sitting kiddie-corner from us had a baby. Maybe 11 mos old? He SCREAMED the first 30 minutes of the flight. There was a guy stuck at the window seat on the other side of them. I felt SO bad for him.
The baby's screams made me squirrely.
Coach: I think they need you.
They did, and it was hard NOT to step in, snatch that little one, and calm him. What would I say? YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG.
The parents looked lost. My baby-whispering brain sent them: PAT HIS BACK. BOUNCE HIM UP AND DOWN, PUT HIS HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER WITH THE NON BACK PATTING HAND. Maybe it was the altitude, but they didn't get my message. I was wringing my hands, trying to keep from crossing the aisle and causing a scene. EVERYONE would've thanked me. I turned to the guy at the window seat next to me: I'M A BABY WHISPERER. IT'S HARD NOT TO INTERVENE.
He laughed. Then about mid flight, he dropped his drink on my lap. It was mostly ice and I was wearing my leggings that are thin and made of a quick dry fabric, slightly thicker than pantyhose. It could've been worse. I brushed the ice off and assured him all was forgiven.
With about 45 minutes left on the flight, the babe across the aisle woke and started puking. I was no longer willing to offer my services. No one was going to mar my cute outfit.
I suggested to the flight attendant that they should offer the 25 year old, who was pinned against the window to avoid close contact with baby-vomit, a free flight. Not that anyone can control that, but wow that sucked for him.
We hung out with Dee and #8 (too lazy to look back at what I named him in 2020) on Friday after we landed. Coach needed to review his slides and notes. Get his game face on for his class. He went to the library after he dropped me at their house, and joined us later. They were babysitting for their 8 month old grandson, the spitting image of his dad who I started babysitting when I was a 15. So fun.We stayed downtown. I laid poolside on a freakishly beautiful day while Coach taught. The hotel was gorgeous, but the kind of high-end joint that DOESN'T offer complimentary breakfast. I traveled with my oatmeal, unaware that I wouldn't be able to cook it. No microwave. I ended up buying a $4 cup of milk at the restaurant. That would've bought me almost 2 GALLONS. I begged the use of a microwave off of the valet guys who had one in their office. Coach and I ate dinner at an amazing Mexican place after his class and flew home.
Coach was wishing we'd been able to stay another night, since there was 'no need to race home' anymore. Well . . . we'd left a gaggle of teenagers at home unattended and some beans had accidentally recently been spilled (more later) by one of them, so it was for the best that we got home in record time.