Sunflower seed madness.

What? It's not like I don't plan on eating these. What's the big deal? 

And then dad made me clean up the second bag...seed by seed. He's so mean!  

Things I do in San Diego.

Dress up at 5am and draw fák (trees) on my etch-a-sketch. 

Try on oversized jackets. 

Eat oysters.

And dine on turkey burgers that dad makes on the grill, while watching South Park. I'm pretty sure my parents should be arrested for this one. 

Soooo good! And soooo American.

Orange Chocolate Mousse

One thing mom has learned in her 17-month journey with me is that nothing is ever predictable. Ever.

This being our third trip from Budapest to San Diego, she actually didn't have as much anxiety as she had on previous trips...even though 8,000 miles is ALWAYS intimidating. 

Dad had to book his ticket separately from mom and I...long story. Not a big deal, really. We would manage something.

I figured that whoever sits next to mom would SURELY trade their seat with dad so we can sit as a family!!! 

...

Que British a*hole. Ok, I know I have some sensitive readers, but really, this adjective is a massive understatement.  (Sorry, great-grandma.)

Dad: "Hi, I'm so sorry to bother you, but would you mind switching seats with me, I'd like to sit next to my baby and help my wife...she's kind of a handful." (The wife, not the baby.)

Brit, with smug British accent: "No. I want extra leg room." 

After that, every single passenger refused to exchange seats with dad (because he was giving off a defeated vibe and dropped a few f-bombs), thus leaving mom to experience her worst nightmare, times infinity. 

Four hours of crying, a river of snot, hunger strike, a schizophrenic outburst later...it happened. 

Dad brought over some orange chocolate mousse from the food service and managed to get me to eat a few small bites. Victory!!! 

After a few minutes I began to fuss and, BLEEEAK, I threw up ALL over myself, dad's tactical shirt (which did not help him on this particular mission) and the man's shoes sitting behind us...and the floor of course. E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E. 

...Except the ONE person on the entire plane that deserved it, the jerky Brit, who STILL wouldn't move after my best performance to date.  My situational awareness was a bit thrown off...but if I got another chance...

I can personally attest that the flight attendants on British Airways did not help mom clean this chocolate soufflé explosion (except for throwing a blanket over it), and it will probably marinate in the carpet of this Boeing 777 for all eternity. 

(Tip: Don't eat food/throw valued personal belongings on airplane floors.) 

So, suddenly, after my blowout, and my BFF's refusal to move, the flight attendants managed to find him a very nice seat in business class! I guess all regulations go out the window when projectile sno-mit comes into play. 

And then, 20 minutes later, I barfed on mom. 

Needless to say, we are renting a private jet if we EVER travel again, even to LA. 

Mom is putting her kidney up for auction on eBay as we speak.

But, at the end of the day, we all survived, and people were generally nice to us...minus a few dirty looks. 

Boom! And mom does NOT have a change of clothes. 

Update: I cried five out of 11 hours. Mom is going to have Valium for dinner. 

Moral of the story...everything is temporary...except my general defiant attitude. 

Here we go again...

Making our way, for the third time in my short life, back to San Diego. 

God, I'm getting so sick of that place and all its' sunshine!! 

Just kidding!!!! I'm SO excited! I even told everyone behind me how happy I am! 

Aunt Sandra even wants to come to SD and visit because it's so COLD in Vienna. 

Cousin Riley has lots of plans for us upon our arrival...and my plans are to sit at the beach and read magazines, oh, and have mom and dad hand feed me cookies at my request. 

We made it to London, so only about 15 hours to go! Mom and dad look a little scared! 

Oh dad...

So dad decided it would be a really good idea to go out and drink with a few other pilots last night. Needless to say, he's made better choices. 

Mom made him get up at 7am to make my bottle and change my diaper.

This is how I emerged from my room...

Those would be mom's socks...

No, I did not break my leg. 

It's actually pretty comfy wearing oversized socks.

Dad looks tired!!! Hahahahahahaha.