Headed home

I hate flying. Really, I just hate taking off. Once we’re up, I’m fine. For today’s flight, I sat next to Greta. As I focused on sounding cheery and squeezing the hell out of a tissue to absorb my palm sweat, Greta was pressed against her little window saying things like, ‘MAMA! I SEE POOLS AND SANDBOXES! AND WATER! IT’S LIKE ANT CITY!’

“Oh yeah? Cool!!” I mustered. I looked across the aisle at Barrak, but he was busy looking out the window with Magnus.

Greta asked for a tissue. I handed over the little wad I had been compressing into an opal. And she used it to wipe the glass of her window so she could get a better look. UGH. I remember when I was a kid, I loved to fly. I would even coordinate take-off with a cool song from the Bright Lights, Big City soundtrack in my walkman for maximum thrill. It all changed when I had kids. Or maybe it was 9/11.

Anyway, we made it just fine and I won’t let my irrational fear show in front of the kids.

Here are some parting shots:

Our plane was pretty, I’ll give her that.

There we go! Just kidding.

A little reading material: the September issue of Lucky magazine.

Sometimes it seems like Greta is 12 instead of 5. She was rocking out to Katy Perry. But she also had her blankies and ‘My First Duffy’ on her lap so it balances out.

Then I look over at this guy…

He is 3! He plays a game called Temple Run. He can get really far, it’s unbelievable.

Don’t worry – we also give him books. Lest you think we made him sit alone, Barrak was in the bathroom when I snapped these.

Two satisfied customers.

We’re the Mini-Van really does drive a mini-van.

Belle was happy to see us.

With a night of unpacking and laundry and mowing and grocery shopping and re-organizing to make room for all the crap we brought home, it’s a pizza night! Hello Water’s Edge. Hello Mrs. Green.


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