So, in a little over 24 hours, Leah, Liam and I will be getting on a plane to visit my family at my sister’s place, in Kentucky. I’m quite excited to be going. It’ll be nice to see my family, sure, but you know what I’m most excited about? I get to hang out with Liam all week! This is extra exciting because for the past two weeks, I’ve been a total absentee parent (which is also why there’s been no posts). I’ve been at work all day and all night, so I’ve barely seen the little dude. Given my already reasonably high level of guilt for simply being at work and away from him every day, it’s not been so good for me.
Unfortunately, several thousand miles and 2 plane trips seperate ourselves from my sister. Which means that we have to take Liam on a plane. I’ll admit now, I’ve always been one of those people who’ve cringed when parents with babies or kids get on planes. I don’t, as a general rule, particularly like babies or kids (I think kids are worse tho – they run and scream and screech and kick) (I do, as you’ve probably guessed, quite like my own kid). I’m hopeful that Liam, who’s a pretty chill baby, will be a pretty chill flyer (flier?). But I fear the worst, of course. I’m imagining four uninterrupted hours of screaming until we land in Chicago, followed by another hour of screaming as we take the next leg to Kentucky. Did I mention that we have a 3-hour layover in Chicago? Right around nap-time! What fun that will be, eh?