If we were still in Texas, a title like that would be grounds for a CPS investigation. Here in New Hampshire, though, it’s actually a little chilly. I’ve got some time to update since I woke up earlier than the men in my life, so I thought I’d fill you in on yesterday’s travel adventure.
Andrew woke up every hour except one from 10:45-2:45 the night before we left. Because we had a 6:30 flight we were going to get up at 3:45 (gross), and I couldn’t go back to sleep after 2:45. All those details are necessary so that you know how much this trip sucked straight from the get-go.
We left the house a few minutes late, and I forgot my phone so we had to go back. I’m so glad we did, though, because while I was getting my phone I got a travel pillow that I had also forgotten and it saved my life on the plane. (Not literally, but wouldn’t that make a great story?)
So we got to the airport and successfully navigated the shuttle, checking in of half our crap, security, got to the gate, and got on the plane. At no point in that journey did anyone ask for proof that Andrew was ours. I wish they would have asked to see the shiny birth certificate we packed, because I’d like to be reassured that people aren’t strapping other people’s babies to themselves and traipsing through airports across the country all willy-nilly.
Anyway, back to the plane. Our departure time came and went. An antiquated and abused AA work truck pulled up next to our plane. The captain mentioned something about a directional somethingsomething that wasn’t functioning.
We sat. And sat. And I began to sweat. I was already nervous about the four hour flight, and I didn’t want to spend an extra second in that flying death tube. I’m not actually afraid of flying, I was more afraid of having two hundred people wish me dead when my baby wouldn’t stop screaming.
Anyway, they eventually gave up and made us get off the plane. We had to load up all our gear and spawn and start over, this time in a terminal across the airport. I strapped Andrew into the Baby Bjorn which he loved, thankfully. He hated it as a newborn, but now that he can face out in it he loves to flirt with the ladies. We took the tram over to Terminal OtherSideOfTheEarth, loaded up yet another plane and finally took off, two hours late.
Andrew did great on the plane. He only slept 1.5 hours, so he needed to be entertained quite a lot. Most of the time, though, all he wanted to do was nurse. I didn’t mind because I knew it would help with ear pain, and because I knew it would keep him quiet. I was nervous because we don’t use a nursing cover. I am very, very discreet, though. You can’t see any flesh at all when he’s nursing, plus Mr. Aggie was sitting between me and the aisle in a two seat row. On the way back, we may have a seatmate which will complicate things somewhat.
Andrew is stirring so I’ll wrap this up. We got to Boston finally, got our rental car easily, and drove another 1.5 hours up to New Hampshire. Last night was almost a disaster, but then it wasn’t. One minute I’m lying there between Andrew and Mr. Aggie cursing our inflatable bed and longing for our comfy bed and Andrew’s crib, and the next Andrew’s sleeping peacefully in the pack n play. When we first tried to put him to bed in it he freaked out, but something made me try again later. I’m so glad I did. He only woke up once to eat after four hours, and that was over six hours ago.
He’s awake now. Duty calls and I’m glad to answer, because I got some great sleep. We’re having a great time visiting family and today we’re going to the beach (!).