A story of why we need to live closer to family:

Ya know when you plan something so that there is a high probability of things going right and yet everything seems to go oh so utterly wrong? Yeah, that was pretty much my day yesterday. You see, when we travel I have to be very picky about what flights we're on--what time the plane leaves, how long the layover is, etc--so that Jackson doesn't turn into a raving lunatic on the plane. This is especially important whilst I am traveling sans my husband.

So, yesterday, we woke up bright and early (3:45 am) to get ready for our flight that left at 6:10. We left for the airport with plenty of time, arriving there more than an hour early. As soon as I walked through those sliding doors I knew I was in trouble. The line to check bags was ridiculously long.

"It's ok," I said to myself, "It'll move fast and I will be just fine."

Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. The line was barely moving. As people around me started grumbling, I looked at the clock and realized there was no way I was going to make my flight. Now, at this point in my story I'm going to digress a bit and take you back in time to a couple weeks ago...

I went to the gym and did my usual work out. I tried to make a conscious effort to drink lots of water and stay hydrated. When I was finished I saw one of my friends and we chatted for about 20 minutes. At this point, I noticed that I was starting to feel a little light headed. I've passed out before so I knew I needed to sit down, just in case. My friend told me I looked kind of pale and I put my head between my legs...and that's the last thing I remember. My pregnant body gave out on me and I fainted. Everything was ok, my blood pressure is just low so it could be a fairly common thing for me to lose consciousness every now and then.

Anyway, fast forward back to yesterday. As I was standing in line, stressing about my flight with a baby who was getting more and more grumpy by the minute, I started to feel light headed.

"Are you freaking kidding me?"

Every few minutes I had to squat down and put my head between my legs to keep from hitting the floor. I'm sure the people around me thought I was nuts. Luckily, I survived (no fainting involved), but I did miss my flight--as did probably 70% of people in that line. So, instead of having a 25 minute layover in Denver, I had a 2 hour layover in Phoenix. There is a reason I don't do 2 hour layovers with my 1-year-old...he's insane! All he wanted to do the entire time was push his stroller around a super crowded airport. I, finally, just gave in and let him. Sorry to all of you who may have gotten your feet run over, but I just couldn't take the whining anymore!

Anyway, we're here in Utah safe and sound, and we're having a blast! Jackson is LOVING playing outside:

I love summer in Utah more than anything in the world. And, apparently so does my son. We've only been here one day and we don't want to leave!