L.A. Story comes sweepin' down the plain

LAX didn't know what hit it when we arrived for our latest flight to Oklahoma. Running? Check. Screaming? Check. Time outs? Oh, yeah.

But really, what's a toddler to do with so much open space and chairs that seem to be pleading: "Go ahead, jump on me. It won't hurt or drive your mom crazy. Promise!"

This is the third time CC's been on a plane and the first time she's had her own seat. (Next it'll be her own car!) It's so funny thinking back to two years ago, when I was terrified about bringing an infant on board.

I was nursing her at the time, and I had to pull some serious voodoo moves so I wouldn't show off the goods to my fellow fliers. Or get tangled up. She was so tiny, and I held her in my lap the whole time.

This time around, CC was really good on the flight itself. Maybe being strapped in helps.

We connected in Denver, and by the time we got off the plane, she was ready to rock out in the long hallways. She was my little Flo Jo, sprinting from Colorado Springs to Houston -- well, to their gates anyway.

But it worked. She ran and ran while we waited, and once we boarded the propeller(!) plane for Oklahoma City (Seriously, couldn't they have requested a larger aircraft for a two-hour flight?), CC began the infamous airplane head bob that's the first step in a long, and much deserved, nap.