Thanksgiving in Tucson

With the price of tickets being what it is, we ended up heading to Tucson for Thanksgiving very early (the 10th) because we would have to go home very early on the day after Thanksgiving. 

And what would a flight to Tucson be without a little drama? After the disaster last year (when they changed our flight time without telling us), we religiously checked the date/time on the website to ensure nothing changed. All was well from Baltimore to Denver.

And then Denver.

We knew we were in trouble as our plane landed in a snowstorm and did quite a bit of sliding on the runway. But a quick check revealed that our flight was still on, so we booked it from gate 32 to gate 80-something for our flight to Tucson. 

Turns out the plane was one of those tiny ones with just two seats on each side. And apparently only one side has the extra oxygen mask for infants. 

So picture this: 4 seats across with an aisle dividing them. One one side you have Jon & the kids, on the other me & another lady. I'm sitting literally two feet away from Catherine, who is a whiny mess in Jon's arms. 

Obviously the stewardess was not having a good day. She approached our seats and said, without any introduction, "I'm only going to tell you this once. The baby stays on this side of the plane because of the oxygen masks."  Ooookkkkaaayyy...

All is fine and dandy until we pull away from the gate. Like I said, it was snowing, which meant the plane had to be de-iced before we could fly. But so did every other plane at the airport. We roll over to the de-icing line, and we sit. And wait. And wait. NOT MOVING.

At this point Catherine has had it, and starts saying, "Mommy! Mommy!" Well, the plane isn't moving, so Jon passes her over. IMMEDIATELY the stewardess gets ON THE INTERCOM: "Would the family with the two young children please return the baby to the right side. We have already told you about this." Have you ever been yelled at over the intercom of an airplane? Luckily I was too angry to feel embarrassed.

I dutifully hand Catherine back, and she dutifully begins screaming at the top of her lungs. I didn't feel bad at all--might as well let everyone know what the stupid rules mean. But then the old woman sitting in the row behind Jon beckoned me to the empty seat next to her. I thanked her profusely, moved over and held my screaming baby. Later in the flight the man sitting across the aisle from me leaned over and said, "I really wanted to go punch that stewardess for you." I heartily agreed with him.

But it doesn't end there. We get de-iced (hooray!) and are all ready to go. Until, that is, the captain says, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a mechanical problem with the wing. We'll have to return to the gate." Woo hoo. Back we go.

Luckily they get it taken care of quickly, and then it's back to de-icing again (no line this time). Then, FINALLY, we're off to Tucson. We arrive at midnight, or 2 A.M. for us East-coasters. The kids were amazingly good, despite everything.

But then we got to spend two glorious weeks in Tucson with my family. And honestly, I would do it all again if that's what it takes to get there.

(Just a warning--between Mom & I, these two weeks are very, very well documented with photographs. So prepare yourselves).

We started off with a month-early birthday for my dad. The kids (okay, all of us) were mesmerized by this candle that sang and spun around when it was lit:

Grandpa & Grandkids

(The entire reason we had this early birthday was so we could give Dad the new Halo game before he bought it for himself. Needless to say, it was well-used while we were there).

Ah, Tucson. You may be monstrously hot in the summer, but when you look like this in November, it's all worth it. Mostly because we never visit in the summer, unless Marah decides to get married in the middle of June: 

Jon trimming one of the little trees growing out of our stump.

And the kids soaking themselves in the water table.

The kids were in heaven at Grandma's house. They possibly have more toys than we do.

These were Catherine's favorites: 

The turkeys. 

Luckily my mom has a small army of them.

Funny Catherine story: For the first week or so we were there, we could NOT get her to say "Grandpa". They were both "Grandma." But then, after much coaching from my dad, she finally got "Grandpa" down, only to apparently lose the ability to say "Grandma." 

So from that point on, Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, Brian, Stephen & Sam all became "Grandpa."

My dad was pretty darn proud of himself for that one.