We are home now with the newest member of the Goofy family - Lil' Goofy. We traveled last week to Russia to pick him up, get his passport and visa, get him a physical, and bring him home.
The trip started badly. Our flight to Russia went well, but when we arrived in Moscow, expecting to have the day in a hotel for a shower, nap and some relaxation, we were told that, no, we were being taken directly to the train station. For a 10-hour wait (!!!) for our 12:30am train the next morning. WTF? We protested a bit, but decided the travel arrangers must know what they are doing. In hindsight, hell NO, the travel arrangers most definitely did NOT know what they were doing. Ugh. Those are 10 hours that I want back! We were bored silly after the first hour. I still don't know how we did it.
Anyway, fast forward to picking up Lil G. He was happy to see us, and we had a great visit. When it came time to leave, we carried him outside to the car. Our driver was putting some items into the trunk. Lil G saw this and started crying. Once we assured him (with gestures and our very bad Russia) that he was NOT riding in the trunk, he settled down and did great on the drive.
After we boarded the train back to Moscow, we quickly found out that our train car did NOT have air conditioning. It was around 86 degrees. All we had was a window that we could open about 6 inches. Lil G was a happy camper in just diaper and shorts, but we were miserable, since we did not think to pack any shorts. It was a long night, but Lil G slept through and woke up happy.
We got to our Moscow hotel, checked in, and rushed off to get Lil G his physical. (NOTE: At this point, we had still not had a shower since leaving home...going on 3 days!) He giggled through the whole thing, as Dr. Boris declared, "this one will be breaking hearts soon." We headed back to the hotel and Lil G took a 4-hour nap.
Little did we know it was all a set-up for the hell we were about to enter.
The trip ended worse than it started. Fast-forward to our flight back to the states. Lil G got a little crabby on the way to the airport. It was a long drive, being a Friday, during morning rush hour in Moscow. He whined a bit, but when we got out of the van, he was happy and curious again.
We boarded the plane, thinking that surely he would nap. It was naptime, he had been on-schedule the entire trip so far. There was no reason to think he wouldn't.
You see it coming, doing you? We sure didn't.
The flight was pure, unadulterated HELL. Yes, in ALL CAPITALS. If there was ever a time I wanted to open my brain up and erase a 17-hour block of time, this would win, hands-down.
One hour into the flight, the diarrhea started. In total, we went through 4 diapers and one entire set of clothes on a 10-hour flight. Yeah..."ew" just doesn't really do it justice. And the clothes-splattering blowout occurred right during a "stay in your seat, there is turbulance" announcement. I explained the situation and the flight attendant let me into the bathroom, where we bumped and bounced around, trying to control damage from the diaper explosion and get some new clothes on.
He did NOT end up falling asleep until the final hour of the flight, after basically screaming for the preceding hour. The screaming resulted in a nose-bleed, complete with blowing blood out his nose onto everything, as he tried to catch his breath.
We didn't know what to expect as we carried our screaming, crying child off the plane. Thankfully the other passengers parted the way to let us through.
How did it end? Well, after we went through Passport Control and got our bags, we again had a smiling, happy perfect angel-child.
What did we do? We got our hopes up again for the final 2-hour flight back home. And yes, half-way through the flight the crazy-child, complete with yet another poopy diaper (how much poop can one child produce?!) appeared again.
We are home now and all this is starting to become a distant memory. After documenting this here, I plan on promptly forgetting this 17-hour block of time and replacing it with some of the many giggling, happy-child memories that I now have.