how (not) to travel with an eight month old and other musings

hello, old friends! it’s been far too long. i’ve had a million and one things i’ve wanted to write about in the last few weeks, and approximately zero time to write about them. okay, that’s a lie. i’ve spent my fair share of time vegging on the sofa, but i decided i deserved it. it’s been a long month.

my grandfather passed away last month. he was pretty much the coolest man ever. it was so sad to say goodbye to him but so wonderful to celebrate his life. i was lucky enough to be his first (and possibly most spoiled) grandchild and to have countless memories with him over the past 27 years. in the end he was in pain so his death was a blessing for him. i know he’s looking down now and smiling, telling all his friends that he’s better than the weather.

ok, enough of that. my grandpa wouldn’t want any of us to mope around. so instead i’m going to whine. a lot.

if you get nothing else from this post, please remember the following:

DO NOT TRAVEL WITH AN EIGHT MONTH OLD BABY. EVER.

seriously. the four (yes, all four) flights we took on the way to and from the states last month were probably the worst combined experiences of my life. p couldn’t travel with us, so it was just me, s, and my poor, defenseless little sister (who has since vowed never to have children). why was it so horrible, do you ask? well, i’ll tell you. that baby screamed for a total of EIGHT(hundred?) hours while i held her against her will in my lap. virtually every passenger on all four airplanes gave me the stinkeye. a very well intentioned and well endowed flight attendant nearly smothered my baby while attempting to stifle her cries. half a dozen other flight attendants and random staffers stole her out of my arms to cuddle/play with/comfort/annoy the shit out of her. how i managed to get home without leaving my poor darling baby in a bathroom somewhere and/or punching someone and being arrested by air marshalls is beyond me.

therefore i solemnly swear not to fly with my lovely and slightly demonic little girl until she is old enough to sit in her own seat and to be spoonfed benadryl. seriously. i can’t handle it. also, p is on night duty for the foreseeable future. which is forever.

enough of the whining. for now. to lift the mood and make everyone feel better, here are the photos we ordered from the fantastic francesca db photography. merry, merry christmas to you.

next time: s’s christmas list! because i know you all love a little bit of baby tat.

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