Our first plane trip (OY), came and went and while nowhere near a complete disaster travel-wise, I confess it is *really hard* to travel with a little one.
The hardest part is actually embarrassing to admit. The hardest part is worrying about what everyone else is thinking.
Traveling with Della is just that: traveling with Della.
There are moments where she is happy. Moments when she is unhappy. Moments. Strings of moments.
But the issues come from worrying, and being aware of all of those other people trapped in the plane with you who are looking at your sweet baby as a (*insert any scary could go off at any moment inappropriate-to-mention bad thing here*), and all of a sudden, travel is HARD.
But. Here we are. There and back.
The there was intense and good and I am so very glad we took the time, right now, to go.
The coming back here was intense in that reentry is always challenging, loads of laundry, empty fridge, desperate cat, work piled up, emails overflowing, shoulds shouldding around (should should should).
Bone tired with my voice nearly gone with a new bug that has me coughing and snotty and headachy. But the coming back was also ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
complete with snowflakes.
I've had to just stop. Breathe. Go through email. Prioritize. Launder. Shop. Settle. Blow nose. Let the fact that time passes too quickly be just that, a fact. A fact I cannot change. Whoosh and the day is over, the to do list still overflowing. And so it goes. That is what tomorrows are for.