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| Nice. |
I am really, really relaxed.
This does not make for a compelling read, I realize.
But let’s see if I can create some dramatic tension, twists n’ turns, and cliffhangers for bloggy’s sake.
On Tuesday morning we got Nora out of bed at 5:45am to head to O’Hare. I had booked the earliest flight possible, thinking that it would be easy that way. (Sure, ’cause nothing says ‘easy’ like an exhausted toddler.) And an accident on 90/94 made me panic about dragging NJ through the baggage check and security. (TENSION!) But…P.J. got us there in [safe] record time, we were first in line to check our bag, and security took all of three minutes. “She’s such a good traveler,” an agent told me. (Not really, I wanted to reply. Her carry-on bag? Not to mention her ziplock baggie? Chaos. She also wholly disregards the three ounce rule.)
Winning the Mom Of The Year award, I let my kid scarf a sausage McMuffin and a hash brown in front of an airport TV.
We boarded a positively dwarven plane- you know a plane has a low roof if the 5’4″ gal complains- and sat in the front row. Awesome! Except…you know that wall at the front of the plane? Plenty o’ leg room, but not so much in the storage department. I was told that I needed to stow both of our carry-ons in the overheard compartment. (So, uh, the seven hours of kiddo entertainment? Yeah, I’d have access to none of that.) I shoved as much as I could in my pockets (a surprising amount) and put N on my lap. Oh- and I had booked a single seat as opposed to the double seats across the aisle…but when our gate changed, so did our commuter plane. Reversing the seats. So now I was in a window seat with no access to the overheard sanity-savers, anxiously awaiting the unfortunate soul on the aisle who was to have my child directly up their nostril for the flight. (TENSION!)
But…they never showed. The flight attendant tapped my shoulder and smiled at Nora. “She can have that seat, if she wants.”
I buckled Nora into a seat after we took off and watched her sit and read. (I hadn’t planned for that.) It was awesome. She had a juice. Played with some dolls. Charmed her fellow flyers. And sure, had a high-stakes standoff on the changing table of the loo, but that was fleeting and ended well.
We landed early. Our stroller was the first item off of the plane. We rolled to meet my mother at the gate and got the suitcase- the first one on the conveyor belt. Nora napped on the drive home while I had one of my favorite sandwiches in history- liverwurst and mustard on dark rye. (Seriously. My Mom makes this amazing sandwich for me when I’m sick/visiting/home for lunch from kindergarten. I was the coolest five year-old ever.)
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| Oh, Mim. |
I got to take a nap that day. And eat stuffed pork chops. Watch an MST3k with my Dad. And let my Mom feed/bathe/change/play with Nora. (TENSION…was completely nonexistent.)
Even being the solo Nora-getter in the wee hours of the morning hasn’t been so crazy. Maybe she’s catching up from a nutso past few weeks, but she’s napping and sleeping like a champ- this has allowed us to have some terrific excursions around town. These include a life-changing free chair massage and a stellar reading from a talented lady. Today we’re having lunch with an honorary Mom of mine (she’s earned the title by taking me to the ER as many times as my own mother) and later going for a swim.
Maybe I’ll even get a nap.
To those who say you can never go home again- they are sadly misinformed. Not only can you go home, but it’ll be a seamless trip, your Dad has new music for you to hear, AND THERE’S SEAFOOD FOR SUPPER.
Plus all of the Clifford episodes one could hope for. If you like that kind of thing.
They’ve got everything here.
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