Happy Birthday Dede Weekend

Our visit in Omaha was great! My cousin, Linda, and my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Paul also came to my parents for 2 nights to meet Ian. It was great to see everyone and celebrate my mom's birthday. We shopped, we ate, we laughed, relaxed, and Ian got spoiled.  VERY spoiled...for starters, Ian doesn't like sleeping on his back, but "they" scare the crap out of you that you MUST put your child on their back or they are going to die of SIDS. The biggest problem is that when he is on his back and he flails his arms he freaks out because he feels un-secure and wakes up. And since he refuses to have his arms in the swaddle (remember he likes to raise the roof),  it's made getting down our nightly bedtime routine a real challenge. Back in the day when I was a baby you were told the complete opposite - that you needed to sleep your baby on their stomach so they didn't choke if they spit-up. Prior to my visit I was telling my mom about the struggles with getting him to stay asleep on his back. Her  response was "Well, my babies slept on their stomachs. Just put him on his stomach."  So the first afternoon we were in Omaha when Ian went down for a nap, Dede set him up in her bed... and how do you think I found him? Yep...

Me: "Mom! You have him on his stomach! He's going to die of SIDS!"
Mom: "Sar, look at him, he's sleeping like a little lamb, he's so happy, now you just leave him... I'm checking him."

*While I still sleep him on his back, I have to admit I think he was so happy and comfy here. I'm sure when Ian has children the new rule will be that you have to place them on their side or upside down or something.  He appreciated his Dede spoiling him with a comfortable nap time on his belly.

My mom also couldn't wait to get cream all over him... You know how during the acne outbreak she kept asking me "Sarah have you put the cream on him??"  She loves nothing more than the smell of baby cream on a baby. And I'll tell ya, the dry Denver air is terrible for a  baby's skin, but Dede and some Omaha humidity will do wonders...

"Now, now Ian, I'm just going to put a little more cream on you."

creaming him up!

As you will see in the pictures below I also don't think Ian was put down for more than 5 minutes the whole visit.... he was always in someone's arms. 

Aunt Barb, My mom, and Ian

Happy Birthday Dede!!

Playing peek-a-boo with cousin Linda

Naunie (as my Aunt Barb's grandchildren call her) & Dede

My cousin Linda, Ian, and Me

Ian and Linda

He LOVED his Great Aunt Barb and she's like the baby whisperer

 Now, I must admit the weekend also came with some good unplanned entertainment. On Saturday us girls (my mom, aunt, cousin, and me) decided to take Ian to the mall for some shopping on St. Patrick's day. Since I didn't bring the stroller with me, my parents bought a little stroller from Target to use. Pretty sure the stroller is for babies 9 months and up, not 2 month old's. Little Ian was hysterical in the thing... we had to prop him up with a blanket to prevent him from slouching over (see below). As I wheeled him through the mall people kept pointing and saying "Ooooh look at the baby!! Awe!" And I know it is because he looked so ridiculous - not because he looked so cute (even though he is). The looks I was getting would be the same  if I was toting a small dog in an oversized bag.  

After awhile Ian was tired of the stroller and started to fuss, so I switched to carrying him in the Baby Bjorn as we strolled through the last department store we wanted to check out. My cousin found a bathing suit to try on while my mom, aunt, and I looked through the women's dresses. As the 3.5 of us were standing there all looking at a dress Ian let it rip. "PPPPFFFFFF!!!" I mean it was MAJOR. My Aunt who is crazy about smells had to walk away. With that I could feel something wet - so now I'm ripping him out of the Bjorn and yelling at my mom "OH MY GOD! We have to go! NOW! Mom, he has crap up his entire back!" Of course the baby is now wailing as I'm yelling and holding him a foot away from me observing how he has completely shit his adorable green Saint Patrick's day polo.  I start making a mad dash to the car. My cousin is yelling out from the dressing room that she needs some coupon from my mom to buy this bathing suit and I'm yelling at my mom to hurry because poop is about to drip on the floor. Where is my aunt? Hiding in the dressing room so she doesn't have to smell anything. It was a total cluster. Somehow I am able to get him to the car and practically bathe him with wipes until he is good as new. And you better believe I washed the outfit out in the sink at the restaurant we went to for dinner afterwards. Yep, I am that person.

I'd like to be able to say that this was Ian's only blow out of the weekend, but it ain't so. The following day my dad was holding him and says "Sar, I think he needs a diaper change." As he is handing him off to me he realizes it was worse that he thought... "Oh yeah, he really needs a change, it came out of his diaper and it's also on me!" Crap (literally). Whoops, sorry pops! We had 2 more blows-outs that day (all before noon I might add). As I was cleaning up Little Man from the final one of the day he proceeded to pee all over me and my mom's oriental rug. My mom was unphased, but when I called John to tell him about it he quickly reminded me how she recently got rid of our childhood cats for the same offense. The lesson here...If you're a feline don't pee on Dede's rug, if you are her grandchild you can  do no wrong.

And the grand finale of entertainment happened when it was time for us to leave. My mom had decided she wasn't happy with the pictures we had taken of her and Ian during the weekend. If there is one thing us Hennings' girls are consistent with it is hating all photos taken of us. I cannot tell you the family fights over potential Christmas card photos in years past that ultimately ended up with my mom re-buying cards that didn't have a slot for a picture. So my mom decided to go it and glam herself up for a photo shoot the morning we were leaving town. I was in charge of packing up and getting Ian ready for this shoot. By the time I got the bags packed up and Ian dressed we should have been in the car heading to the airport - instead we were just beginning glamour shots. We were trying really hard to get one with Ian actually smiling which is nearly impossible to do with only 2 two people (one of which is in the photo as well). Those people at Olan Mills might not be so crazy after all. I'd make faces at him, he'd smile, I'd go to take the picture and he'd stop smiling or I'd cut off his head or my mom would look like an idiot... It wasn't working.  So instead of leaving for the airport, what did we do? Uploaded the pictures onto my mom's laptop and critiqued them and then decided we needed to do another round of trying to get a good picture. Midway through I panicked when I realized it was almost an hour till the flight left. With that we hurried to the car... Aren't these the best pictures you have ever seen of my mom and Ian? Just. Say. Yes.  Because these photos truly took years off my life. Honestly they sort of suck, but whatever.

Sort of cute, but slightly blurry

Hello... the camera is over here!

Mom looks great, but Ian looks pissed off

Both smiling but I cut my mom's head off trying to keep Ian happy

So now we're in the car heading to the airport which my mom still doesn't know how to get to after living in Omaha for over a year. So she starts fumbling with her stupid TomTom, which has decided to stop talking and the screen brightness isn't working either making it impossible to see anything on the screen.  Basically the TomTom is useless at this moment but my mom is still determined to get it to work - pressing buttons like a madwoman while driving. Meanwhile I'm watching the clock and I pull out my phone to google map the route to the airport; at which point I realize we are now traveling the wrong direction on the highway and we are less than an hour to departure. Thank you TomTom. Of course this is one of those stretches of highway where you have to go 2 exits to be able to turn around. An enterinity later we turn around an I am re-routing us with google on my phone. Somehow google decices to take us on road that has a stop light every 50 feet to get there. As the clock continued to move closer to departurer time I had determined I was going to miss my flight. Convinced there was still a quicker way to the airport, my mom was having an eternal struggle to call my dad and ask him but knowing he'd kill us for cutting it so close. So we just kept going on the slowest and least direct road ever. 

With 25 minutes till take off we came screeching into the airport. I told my mom to wait in the car (no sense in unloading the baby) while I ran into the ticket counter to hear my options.  I knew even if they let me on the plane there was no way they would let me check bags with less 25 minutes till take off, and I had to check bags. There wasn't a line so I was able to run right up and explain my situation. I was completely shocked when the lady behind the counter said I could still make it and check bags! Waaa?!?!! So now I'm running back out to the car to grab the stuff. My mom hops out  too and yells to the crazy police officer who is tolling the drop-off area that she will be parking her car there and she has a baby so he better not give her a ticket. Babies are like the get out of jail free card. Honestly the next 5 minutes are a total whirlwind. All I know is that as I was running back in with the bags I was trying to pull Ian's Birth Certificate out because they require you to show it at the counter, and as I was pulling it out a  bunch of family photos my mom gave me from when I was a baby also came out of the bag and went flying out everywhere (including in the automatic revolving entrance door), so now I scream back to my mom "The pictures! The pictures!" As I keep running to the ticket counter. When I got back to the counter, forked over my ID and Ian's Birth Certificate I finally took a moment to breathe and turned back to see my mom on her hands and knees in the revolving door holding Ian (all limbs dangling) while she's trying to grab pictures off the ground before the door come whipping around again. She starts yelling to someone who works at the airport "These are all memories! I have to get these up!" And thankfully they trusted she wasn't just insane and stopped the door and helped her pick them up. She made it back to the ticket counter with the photos as I was finishing up with them there. I sincerely thought she was going to kiss the Southwest woman behind the counter when she realized she had checked my bags. I don't even remember if I got to say goodbye to my mom it was such a blur. I do know that as she handed over Ian and I got him strapped in the Bjorn to sprint to security she was not only thanking all the Southwest employees but also thanking God, Mary, Joesph and any disciple who's name she could think of.  This would not have happened in the Denver airport I can promise you that, so thank you fine people of Omaha for your hospitality and small airport. It was a miracle. Next visit we will be leaving 2 hours in advance and my mom is going to know how to get to the airport without her TomTom. 

Oh boy. We always keep it interesting.