Saturday, June 2 was a day I had been looking forward to and yet dreading for months. It was the day I was to take James on a plane ride. Solo.
It's not that terrible scenarios were playing out in my head- instead it was a big question mark. Basically, what was going to go wrong? Would his ears bother him? Would he get a poopy diaper? Would I be comfortable enough to nurse on the plane? How would I hold the baby, collapse the stroller, AND cover it? What illness would James contract during our flight? A simple cold? Tuberculosis? Would I need to hand my baby to a stranger? Annoying, right? These questions haunted me whenever I thought about our flight. But, surprisingly, the plane ride was uneventful; to answer my questions- nothing, no, no, yes, a kind stranger would cover the stroller, none, nope, nope, no. All of that worrying for nothing!
It's not that terrible scenarios were playing out in my head- instead it was a big question mark. Basically, what was going to go wrong? Would his ears bother him? Would he get a poopy diaper? Would I be comfortable enough to nurse on the plane? How would I hold the baby, collapse the stroller, AND cover it? What illness would James contract during our flight? A simple cold? Tuberculosis? Would I need to hand my baby to a stranger? Annoying, right? These questions haunted me whenever I thought about our flight. But, surprisingly, the plane ride was uneventful; to answer my questions- nothing, no, no, yes, a kind stranger would cover the stroller, none, nope, nope, no. All of that worrying for nothing!
We landed in Atlanta ready to spend time with my friend Beth and her 3 month old son Christopher.
It was the boys' first time meeting. They hit it off right away- talking about bugs, dirt, and trucks.
They had a lot of fun swimming together, listening to books and songs, going to the library, shopping with their moms, and chilling at the Farmer's Market.
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