|We had fun in NL.|
|A cuddly reunion with daddy after 3 weeks.|
I’ve been making this same pilgrimage annually for nearly twenty years and had it down to a fine art…until it was time to bring my ten month old daughter along for the ride. Yes, I know I’m not the first person to travel alone with a baby. And I certainly am not the first mom who wanted to pull their hair out while their child screams during most of a three hour flight. It is bad enough to sit in a cramped seat, with two strangers squeezed into the seats on either side of you. Now these strangers are peeved at the ear blasting screams from an over-tired, teething, Baby that wants to be anywhere else but in this tin can with wings and wheels. As I met the stares of some of my fellow passengers, I felt guilty and a little embarrassed…until I remembered that I used to be the stranger squeezed into the tight space next to a mom traveling alone with a squalling infant. How life turns full-circle. I have visions of all the patience and empathy I will have for my fellow traveling parents. And finally my tired baby closes her eyes and drifts toward sleep. Her cries are silenced by drowsiness. Then my reverie is jolted into reality as a faint aroma of #2 fills the air.
a.k.a. Amy Dell, author of weekly blog “Grace and Me”