This is a blog post I've been dreading. I write this post with a very heavy heart, because one of our greatest supporters and fan of Snugfits is now with God. Sara's wonderful Grandma Micki passed away. She was known to us as Grammy, but to our boys as Grammy Great. And great she was! She was such a beautiful soul, so full of life and laughter. I've always written these posts with her in mind, knowing she would be reading them with a smile. It was a way to stay connected beyond phone calls.

We did make the sad journey back to Nebraska with these three tots in tow, but not without complication. For starters, we were late for our flight out of Wilmington's tiny airport. It was our fault, of course. In the chaos of getting ready we had written the departure time down wrong. The plane was still at the gate when we arrived, but they wouldn't let us on. US Air was less than amiable. We told them we had to make it for Grandma's funeral, but they still wouldn't let us on the plane. Not a friendly bunch, there. At least they didn't charge us to re-route, but we had to fly out of Raleigh the next morning at 5:30. Also, in order for us to all get to the funeral on time on the same flights, I had to pay $170 for a first class ticket and switch to United Airlines because they only had enough room for 3 in coach. So we drove 2 hours to Raleigh and stayed at a relative's, got up at 3 a.m. and made the flight out of Raleigh to Charlotte, then to Chicago.

The flying part wasn't so bad, it was the traipsing across these gigantic airports that presented the challenge. Bodie, the 8 month old, was easy. We had a stroller for him. Gavin and Garrett were just too excited. The corridors were just buzzing with people, and these boys just wanted to run around and look at everything. It was "Like herding cats" as Sara's uncle Dennis said later. I could keep them in my grip for only so long, then one of them would feign a trip and sprawl along the ground, giggling. NOT FUNNY. I would scoop the joker up as the other one wandered off into the swarm of travelers. What a nightmare. Not good listening, that day. I had to resort to the old "Dad is MAD. You will hold my hands and walk with me or we will miss the plane." Holy stress test, Batman. But keep reading - the plot thickens...

So we made it to the United gate at Chicago in time after many shenanigans and tomfoolery. I went to the desk to check in, and low and behold, they have no tickets confirmed for me, Gavin and Garrett!!  What What What?!?! Unbelievable! Apparently the gal from US Air in Wilmington didn't finish getting us all on that flight to Omaha. She just confirmed the first class ticket for Sara and Bodie, and not the rest of the crew. I pleaded with the lady at the desk, but they were already boarding and there was just no room at the inn. We were going to miss the funeral! There would be another flight to Omaha this afternoon, she promised. Sara tearfully entered the jetway with Bodie, to the cacophony of wails from Gavin and Garrett. It was like a scene from a Lifetime movie. There should have been a film crew there to capture some of this Emmy quality high drama...

I had to move the boys away from the gate, and find an open space where Gavin could have a full blown autistic meltdown. Unlike Tom Cruise in the "Rainman" airport scene, I didn't try to contain it, or yell to everyone "He's all right! He's all right!" I just let it happen, which is all you can do. It is an unavoidable fact of life with autism. Meltdowns happen, and when the smoke clears the child will see much more clearly. Garrett actually calmed down pretty quickly after I told him we would go get some pop and french fries from McDonalds. He sat in my arms and watched Gavin twisting and writhing on the floor at gate B-2, O'Hare. When it was over, the boys sullenly trudged with me to the McD's where I delivered on my promise of fries and pop.

Appetites and emotions temporarily suppressed, we headed back to the gate to discover our fate. The lady at the United desk was very helpful and empathetic. She did her best, but could only find three seats on a flight that left at 5:51. That meant we had to wait 8 hours! Holy smokes! Eight hours in Dante's 1st Ring of Hell: Limbo. I couldn't believe it. What would we do for eight hours? These poor kids had been up since 3 a.m, had watched their mother and baby brother leave us behind, and were both running on empty. I decided we should post up at Chili's for awhile, drink some chocolate milk and eat some grilled cheese (a classic). Chili's was a Godsend. The dark, muted atmosphere really calmed some nerves. Garrett ate half a sandwich, chugged some chocolate milk, and fell asleep with his chin on his plate. I could tell Gavin wouldn't be napping that day. Though somewhat tranquilized, he still had that unsure, dubious look in his eye. He needed a place to hop around and stim, so we left Chili's and found a nice quiet wing of the terminal where no one was sitting.

Gavin literally bounced off the walls and climbed on the seating for 2 or more hours while Garrett slept in my lap. It was raining cats and dogs outside, with lots of lightning. Flights were being delayed left and right. That was yet another element of anxiety to throw in the mix! It wasn't as bad as it sounds, though. The stress kind of waned, and it actually became a nice, relaxing time for me to sit and reflect on all the fun times Sara and I had with Grandma Micki. She probably would have had a good chuckle at all of our bad luck that day! It was really sad to think that at the end of this journey, we would get to Grandma's house and she wouldn't be there with hugs.

I also found it interesting just to observe the thousands of people pass by. Some running, some lazily meandering, some looking bewildered and lost, etc. Poor Gavin kept looking out the huge windows at all the planes moving around the tarmac, and every time he saw a United plane he would shout "There's our plane daddy! We don't have to wait!" Then I'd have to burst his bubble again and again, telling him "No Gavin, that plane is going to Saskatchewan (or somewhere equally hard to say) not to Omaha." He would look at me confusedly and try to pronounce the word, "Sas...Saska..."  deflecting some of his disappointment. We had that exchange every time we saw a United plane. I'm not kidding! I was running out of polysyllabic geographical names, and just making stuff up. He doesn't really understand how time works yet, so telling him we had 7, or 6, or 5 hours left didn't mean a thing to him. He just remained hopeful that the next United plane he saw would be for us.

"There's our plane daddy!"

"Sorry Gav. That one's going to Madagascar."

Finally Garrett woke up and we moved on. I found an information desk and asked where the best place for these kids to play would be. She directed me to this really nice playground in the airport, put up by the Chicago Children's Museum. It was about a half mile away, it seemed, but awesome! The boys had a blast. We spent most of the rest of the day there, blowing off steam and playing with some other cool traveling kids from all over the country.

At long last, the time came to start shuffling the crew back over to the gate, I had kept an eye on the flight monitor and was thanking God the plane would be on time, in spite of the nasty weather. We arrived at the gate, the plane was being fueled, and it looked like we would be boarding soon. From out of nowhere, a pungent, familiar funk hit my nostrils. I thought we were home free - but alas, Garrett had a stinky surprise waiting for me in his Lightning McQueen pullup. I couldn't believe it. To top it off, Sara had the diaper bag with her for Bodie, and neither one of us thought to leave me with an extra dipe. Great! I was not about to let Garrett sit on the plane for an hour and a half with that mess. I had to spend $9.00 at the Hudson News store for 2 pullups and 8 wet wipes. Thanks goes out to Hudson News for a super crappy deal. (No pun intended.) We did a quick change in the "Family" bathroom and made it to the plane with little time to spare. As the plane took off, both boys were already asleep and I sank into my seat to decompress...

In the end, we didn't make it to the funeral, but we did get to see all of our family. Sara's family is so awesome. They are spread out from one end of the country to the other, so it was nice to have everyone back at Grandma's house one last time. It was nice but bittersweet. Grandma's house was filled with family and friends, and full of love. The house was full, but it still seemed very much empty without Micki's laughter. I'm just glad all three of our babies were lucky enough to be held in their Grammy Great's arms. She is a very special person.

Bodie is into everything, just like it says on his cool black onesie! In the last week and a half, he's gone from just creeping along the floor like an army soldier sneaking under barbed wire, to a zippy, herky jerky little crawl. Not bad for an 8 month old! He gets ahead of himself now and then, and does a nose dive into the carpet, but he loves being able to follow his brothers around the house. As soon as he got the hang of crawling, he figured out how to pull himself up on furniture and take a look around. His poor little knees are getting rubbed raw, we've been keeping BabyLegs on him all the time for extra protection. The babylegs don't make him too hot, I don't think. They aren't the fuzzy kind. Even with the babylegs on, he's funny when he gets to a hard surface like tile or concrete. He always stops, pats the floor to observe the texture, then switches to crab crawl mode and continues onward with hands and feet, saving the knees! Its really cute.

Garrett did that too when he was a baby. He hated weird surfaces like grass or the beach, and always put his bottom up in the air and creeped around like a little crab. He did that so well, it took him forever to learn how to walk! He was so fast on all fours, he probably just figured he could stick with the safer method of travel. Even wearing BabyLegs, he refused to crawl on his knees. It fit his quirky, silly personality I guess.

Gavin, on the other hand, only crawled for a couple of weeks, then stood up and walked. Since Bodie is already pulling up, I predict he'll be walking sooner than later. He's a strong little devil, I can tell you that. Sara has little bruises all over herself from his kung fu grip pinches. He seems to be a little roughneck. When I hold him, he's always got his fingers up my nose, or he's trying to pull my lips off. You know, just for fun! He can be cuddly too, but only when he's on the verge of a siesta. Every kid is different, I keep hearing. 

It's been said that three is the new two. Well, Garrett is three. His birthday was celebrated with a trip to Chucky Cheese (his choice) and then a weekend at Grammy and Papa Geno's house (our choice). We had a second party for him there with all the family and a little backyard cookout. Sara made him an awesome "Super Why" cake, his favorite spelling hero from the PBS show of same name. He absorbed the celebrations with all of the humble modesty you would expect from a three year old.

All of this fanfare, focusing on his new "three-ness", has made a strange impact on our sweet little middle baby. He seems to be making a transformation of sorts, right before our eyes. He constantly mentions that he's "three now", and he is suddenly open to trying new things he wouldn't dare mess with before. Out of the blue, he's going from baby to "big boy". He still loves his little trike and always thought of the bigwheel as something only Gavin could handle, but not anymore. It turns out his feet do reach the pedals and he can make it go. Before, when I'd prod him into getting on it, he would only quarrel with me and insist that, in his words "I'm too wittle, I'm 2!" He wouldn't even try to pedal, he would just sit and scowl. Now he can suddenly zip around the driveway on the bigwheel with an uncharacteristic reckless abandon. He is even starting to try to ride Gavin's new bike! Here's a picture of him getting ready to take Bodie on a thrill ride. They didn't get very far that time! His feet don't make the pedals go all the way around yet on that bike.

He used to be such a cautious and careful little dude, now he's a real tough guy, ready to try anything dangerous. He's standing in his chair when we're not looking, he goes flying out the back door chasing after squirrels, and he's climbing anything and everything. It's like a switch got flipped in his head that says "Now I'm three, I'm invincible!"  I don't like it, but it is pretty cute. If this trend keeps up,  in a couple years I'll be giving him the keys to my truck and sending him to the store for us.

In contrast, when the baby is getting too much attention, he still tries to sweep in and steal the show. Here he is messing with Bodie while we were trying to do a photo shoot for Snugfits. He gets that little baby voice and coos at him, always patting him on the head in a display of superiority. It's hilarious, although sometimes the baby is none too pleased. It's all part of growing up, I guess!