New Orleans Part II

Cafe Beignet was host to Tatum's biggest meltdown of the trip.  Right during Sunday brunch time.  Yep, crazy, fiery screaming at the top of her lungs, and don't ever stop tantrum.  I was out in the garden holding the table with Tatum while Scott was in line for beignets.  He says its pretty funny to hear people trash talk the screaming baby when he's not with her-- people say what they think, assuming a parent isn't standing right there.  HA!  

So anyway, she is really into opening and closing water bottles these days.  She reaches them from the stroller and I can't always stop her/watch her.  Well I noticed that she had a half full Dasani bottle that she had done her best to twist the lid on to, but I was SURE was not securely on... and I was also sure that my SLR was loose in my purse.  So I immediately grabbed her arm and yanked it out and away as to not get any water on the camera.  I knew it would make her mad, but I knew I had to save the camera.  Sorry brunchers, for ruining your brunch!  

These were also very, very good.  They just didn't quite have the magic in them that Cafe Du Monde did though.  Not puffy enough, maybe.

 And since we watched Undercover Blues the night before we left, a walk to the cemetery was in order.  Also, it was right on our way.  It is really cool to see all the above ground headstones/burial slots-- entire families are buried in each spot!

 At this point it was kind of a run-from-shady-spot-to-shady-spot activity.  Really really hot.

 And last and probably least, the pralines.  They say Royal Pralines are the best around, but for $2.25 I was expecting something a little better than this.  Still happy we tried them, but I wasn't about to bring any home as souvenirs.

We opted for the cheaper route getting to the airport- local busses.  Scott says public transportation is now one of my core competencies.  Anyway, we walked 3/4 mile to the streetcar.  Then rode that a ways.  Then got off, got out our coats and umbrella for a rainy half mile walk to what we hoped was the right bus stop.  No way to really know.  We sat there for seemingly ages, hoping the E2 bus was coming sooner than later so we'd make our flight.  It did finally come, but it was a stressor.   While walking over crazy cracked sidewalks in the rain searching for the right bus stop I was thinking, "This cannot be normal.  Who does this??"  Someone willing to save $30, that's who.

Then we got to the airport.  We checked the flight loads in the morning, and the direct to JFK was filling up faster than we were comfortable with, so we went to the airport 3 hours early to catch the connection through Boston. We were the last 3 on the Boston plane, so relived and happy to be pulling away from the gate, and glad to have stuck together and be getting home that night before Scott's work in the morning.  And then, the second engine didn't turn on. In the name of safety (which I am glad for) they pulled back in for the contract mechanic to take a look.  They didn't cancel the flight for 4 more hours, but all 150 on that flight were rebooking for the next day- filling up every single flight leaving New Orleans for like 36 hours.  Not just the JFK or Boston flights, EVERY SINGLE flight.  It was looking like out best bet was to rent a car and drive 5 hours to Houston and then get on a connection from there.  We got a cheap airport hotel (where geckos ran as we opened the door and turned on the light) and decided Scott should try for the 6am flight direct to New York, and hope there were no shows. We hardly slept a wink, and in the morning, Christina's voice (Scott's flight attendant sister) ran through my head, "There will be at least someone who doesn't make their early morning flight!" and I decided to get T up at 4:45 so we could try for the flight too.  Through a lot of other details and drama (this story is already getting super long) Scott ended up getting a seat and giving us a hug goodbye before boarding "The last seat" on the plane.  The gate agent told me there was no chance, I could go back to the hotel.  But I refused to leave the gate before the door closed, and both T and I ended up on the flight!  Tatum as a lap child. It was quite the ulcer-inducing event.  Especially since missing this flight didn't just mean waiting around the airport- it would have meant a car rental/long drive, at least 1 more night of hotel and a lot of hassle.  We were SUPER grateful to make the flight and we continue to wonder why we do these things to ourselves.  Flying standby is not for the faint of heart.