24 hours in America: Essentials

We are here! Grace, Ava and I arrived at LAX yesterday. All things considered, the flight went very smoothly. Grace slept reasonably well, Ava didn't but was happy to watch "Barbie and the Three Musketeers" over and over, and I got to sit down some. So I count that as a success. One of the many situations as a parent where revised expectations are vital. I should write a book about revised expectations. Very important, I think. But instead, I'll tell you two things we've done so far.

One:

Why, Jason and I went to Super Target, of course! This was last night after we'd gotten the kids to bed, and as the jet lag was starting to really hit me. I was a bit woozy, but that actually enhanced my shopping experience. It's funny, I don't know why the choir of angels didn't show up in the photo, cause I totally saw them when I first walked in. That's weird. It was a short trip, but I did score some zebra striped ballet flats. Jason thought they were ugly.

Hello! He is so wrong.

Two:
No, and I say again, no visit to California is complete without a trip to In-n-Out Burger! I love going here. Not only are the burgers the best, the service is so fast, and everyone that works there exudes this fresh-faced exuberance. They are all so earnest--you can just imagine them cheerfully doing their Algebra homework or picking up litter in their spare time.

So, when we left for In-n-Out, I didn't bring a diaper bag for Grace cause I thought Jason had a spare diaper in his man bag. (I'll have to tell you about the man bag another time.) I was so distracted by the thought of a Double Double and fries that I was thinking of little else. And the jet lag!! Yes, don't forget the jet lag! As we're driving, the car fills with a certain aroma. And we all knew what was happening:

Yeah. Jason was amazed at my skilled mothering in not bringing a diaper or wipes, and neither of the nearby gas stations sold any. "It's okay," I told him. "As long as it doesn't leak, she can sit it in for awhile." My mom is reading this and she is appalled right now. So after eating we went into Nordstrom Rack that was nearby. Poor Gracie. She dealt with the indignity of it all with such, well, grace. As I carried her around, though, I realized that her diaper had in fact leaked. And that was such great news. We had a containment breach.

Armed with a packet of Wet Wipes (from aforementioned man bag) and my wits alone, I ducked into the restroom. I thought maybe they'd have diapers in those little vending machines. They didn't. Oh well, I thought. I'll just clean her up and we'll race home with her diaper-less.

That's when I noticed that the bathroom did have a vending machine with maxi pads for sale. Oh no you didn't. Oh yes. I. did. I took off her diaper, cleaned her up, and stuck one of those pads to the inside of her onesie. I was chuckling to myself the whole time. I'm sure the lady in the next stall was wondering.

And now you see how I am the Richard Dean Anderson of mothers. (In fact, can that now be my title? Please?) I felt like MacGyver in there. Flying by the seat of my pants, using my intuition. And a quarter to buy the pad. I exited the bathroom in triumph.

And even though I am a bit of a loser to leave the house without provision for such an incident, I can now tell you that maxi pads will work on babies. For the short term at least. In case you ever need to know that.

And that is the story of our first 24 hours in America. Shopping, eating, and absorbent materials. And MacGyver--remember that part.