Woman plans, God laughs.
When last we spoke, I was all overwrought about my four month old’s first “vacation” and plane flight. An hour-long plane flight to Virginia (Colonial Williamsburg, specifically) would, I was convinced, turn into an hour-long screaming poopfest. I would be the recipient of looks of pity and disgust from my fellow passengers. My husband would offer to get bumped.
That’s not really how it went down.
The day we left, I woke up Baby G at 5:30 am – yeah, that’s right, I woke up a sleeping baby, which is a violation of the Geneva Convention. She smiled at me lovingly as if to say, “Mommy, don’t worry – I’m the Perfect Baby.” She is, actually, the perfect baby. I haven’t written here about how she started sleeping through the night at four weeks old because it is the biggest
keyn eyn hora
anyone ever heard of, but the fact of the matter is, this kid is an absolute sweetheart. She gets it from her father.
So we schlep to the airport – me, husband, baby G, the two boys, ages 6 and 8, and my parents, who are simply the best human beings in the world. We get through security, where my mother’s hip replacement and baby G’s car seat stroller are given thorough scrutiny (you know, because both of them are aspiring terrorists). And then we find out that, thanks to the fog engulfing the New York area, our flight is cancelled. The boys’ faces crumple like Kim Kardashian’s ketubah (fine, she didn’t have a ketubah, but you get what I’m saying).
But NOTHING is going to deter this family from tricornered hats and American history! So we rent a minivan and drive. Yeah – drive. As in, seven hours of driving. And the kids were AMAZING (thank you, God, Google Maps, Harry Potter, coloring books, and portable DVD players). And Baby G had a great window view to check out the scene.
We had every kind of weather – from 36 degree nights to 68 degree days – and everyone remained happy. One kid vomited in the alley behind a tavern, and yet everyone remained chipper. Same kid lost a tooth with ample bleeding, and everything remained coming up roses. Our nighttime pirate walk, complete with actors simulating ghosts of dead pirates, was super scary – and the kids loved it (Baby G slept through it).
I took approximately 5,000 more diapers than I needed, 700 extra wipes, and forty extra outfits. On the plus side, there was nothing I wished I’d brought but hadn’t.
And on the flight back? No problem. Baby G had a bottle on the way up and then, post-burp, immediately fell asleep, waking up briefly to be snapped into her carseat after landing and then falling asleep again the whole two hour drive home. But let’s not forget to mention that someone actually approached me in the baggage claim area and said, “That is the BEST BEHAVED BABY I HAVE EVER SEEN ON A PLANE.” She may not have said it in capital letters, but I am sure that is how she meant it.
And now, I am overconfidently Googling plane tickets to Paris.
