I just got back from Florida with my little family. It was our first vacation with just the three of us, and Finn’s first time flying. I was terrified I would be the lady in the airport dropping her diaper bag, spilling coffee, and holding the loudest screaming baby there ever was. While I can’t say I went without the dropping and spilling, the screaming thing was totally the opposite of what I expected. Finn developed this incredible radar and fell asleep at takeoff on all four of our flights. I secretly got so much satisfaction out of proving wrong all of the people who refused to sit by us when they noticed we had the smallest human on the plane. Our trip was perfect and relaxing and everything amazing, so I thought I would share with y’all my absolute most favorite moment of the whole trip, and offer my latest on fashion.
The maxi skirt needs to go. Wear your skinnies, your boyfriend jeans, your yoga pants, whatever floats your boat. Just not the maxi.
Colt and I were heading downstairs to leave our hotel for dinner, and even though we had a stroller Colt insisted on using the escalator. He managed to do so safely and with grace. Me, not so much. I’ve always had this weird problem of having a small panic attack every time I get off an escalator. I just feel like I’m going to mess the dismount all up and get sucked into the cracks or something. Well, this day, my fears were validated. I’m wearing a long skirt, and as I’m preparing to get off the escalator I realize I can’t really move. As I tried to actually step off the escalator, I realize I for sure cannot move. The moment I’d dreaded my whole life was coming to fruition. I was stuck in the escalator. All of these fears start flashing through my brain and I knew that at any moment my entire body would be sucked into the cracks and I would be skinned alive. So I made the choice to catapult myself out of my skirt, and sacrifice my pride for the sake of my son. If I didn’t do this Finn would grow up as the only child in history who had to tell his friends that his mom died in an escalator crack.
Ok, so maybe out of panic more so than logic, I leaped forward as hard as I could, trying to remember every long jump technique my track coaches had ever taught me. I did so with such force that when I finally slipped out of my skirt I fell to the ground, wearing a tank top and underwear…and sandals. I’m not going to lie, I was so relieved to be sitting at the bottom of that escalator half naked. It meant I was alive. I sat in the floor for probably three seconds, but in my mind an eternity, and stared up at colt like a wounded dog. He rescued me as best he could by yanking my skirt out of the escalator so I could put it back on. I refused to go upstairs and change, but instead wanted to race to dinner and pretend it never happened (and possibly order a margarita). We continued on our way and I was mostly just so grateful to have escaped the escalator that I didn’t mind that my skirt was shredded, and that just minutes prior I was basically dressed for an episode of naked and afraid. Trust me, those thoughts all came later. The one saving grace here: I’m 99% sure the only person who saw me was the poor guy watching the security cameras.
What I realized after this was all said and done: just how much I love my son and this innocent baby stage. While my husband looked at me partially amused, and partially like he couldn’t believe he was married to me in real life, Finn continued to gaze at me with a smile on his face like I am the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. I couldn’t have loved him more this day. There’s only two other creatures on this earth that would have done the same, and they both have four legs and a tail.
So, here’s to ditching the maxi skirt forever, embracing my gracefulness, and hoping that I can freeze Finn into staying tiny, because let’s get real and imagine this same scenario, but Finn at 13.