See you on the Interwebs, Friends

It seems like I’ve spent ample time in airports the past month.

Of course there was the whole flushing-the-boarding-passes fiasco, a good read if you missed it. And then there was the return flight of that trip when – moments after entering the gate and finding seats – Hutton tripped and broke his front teeth on a metal vent. That was neat. And ended rather vampirey for this guy.

I figured after both of those epic fails – one resulting in urine-covered hands, one resulting in a trip to the pediatric dentist – traveling solo to different speaking engagements would be a breeze.

And it was. Mostly.

How to Not Make Friends on Airplanes

The only *minor* incident happened as I was sandwiched between two oversized men on a flight to DC. I reached down to grab something out of my bag and, when I sat back up, noticed a Paw Patrol sticker on my pant leg. Weird since I was  alone. (Plus the two 60+ year olds on either side of me didn’t strike me as big Rubble or Ryder fans.)

After picking it off, I remembered a sheet of stickers Beckett had me stick in my purse for safe keeping a few days earlier. I reached back down, pulled out the sheet, found the outline of the missing sticker…and then found the outline of another missing sticker next to it. Super. Paw Patrol stickers on the loose somewhere on my person. Probably on my butt.

I looked around my purse and checked my clothes, but no sign of the other sticker.

And then I saw it. Fastened securely to the sleeve of the businessman sitting next to me.

“Excuse me, sir, it appears my sticker has migrated to your Oxford shirt. Let me get that for you. Haha..hah…ha…h…hmm.”

(My sticker, by the way, since I was flying alone.)

So, anyway, next time you want to not make friends on airplanes, cover your seat-mate with stickers of dogs dressed as civil servants. Works like a charm.

Speaking of dogs, flying out of Colorado on 4/20 (National Pot-Smoking Day for all of you rule-following, non-cannabisers) is also pretty exciting. The TSA drug dogs at our gate sniffed long enough around our area I started to check my own bag for weed.

I didn’t find any.

Goodbye for Now

I knew when we found out about babe #3 that my speaking engagements/traveling would come to a halt. But God is good, as always, so it’s no surprise to me that just a few weeks of my third trimester, there seems to have been a natural break in inquiries.

This spring has been amazing. Nearly every week I’ve gotten to spend time with different groups – all shapes, sizes, genders, ages, and locations. I’m thankful each and every time I get to talk with parents or teens or preteens or moms or teachers about social media. I’m also thankful for the times (like today) when I don’t teach on social media, I get to talk about whatever is on my heart.

If you would have asked me 2 years ago where I saw myself today, I never in a million years would have said “public speaking” (and DEFINITELY would not have said with a 3RD BOY on the way, but that’s neither here nor there).

I never saw these experiences and opportunities coming, but I’ve loved each and every one.

So THANKS to all of my new friends that I’ve met in recent months. Thanks for letting me come out and hang with you, for letting me talk (probably too much) about a topic I love (probably too much). Thanks for learning and asking and growing with me.

You’re my favorites.

I’ll see you in, like, 2018 or when I’m done growing/birthing/recovering from birthing/feeding tiny humans. Until then, let’s cyberhang.