My first reaction was "HELL YEA! BRING ON THE CHAMPAGNE!" My second thought was, "Holy shit. How do you keep a 2 year old quiet? And I can't have any champagne."
So, there I was in first class, getting served beef teriyaki and caramel cheesecake on glass plates and trying desperately to keep my child "quiet." I actually thought she was doing a great job, but the flight attendant came over during the safety features portion and told Becca to pipe down. I pulled out all the stops and all the surprise toys I had stashed for the trip and hadn't given her yet. Thank God I made that last minute Target run for small presents and treats! Becca did really well. I was very proud of her, especially considering the entire flight took place after her bedtime and she never did sleep on the the plane. She was up for hours and behaved really well.
First class is like a whole other country. It is all quiet and peaceful. In fact, it is almost downright silent up there. There is no one kicking your seat back or leaning their seat back into your abdomen. No screaming children. Well, maybe one. But still. It is like paradise up there. The flight attendant practically takes off your shoes and gives you a damn foot massage instead of yelling at you and snottily telling you that the soft drinks cost 2 dollars (I'm looking at you, USAirways.)
As it always is when I return home, the house is covered in suitcases and detritus spilling out of suitcases and dirty laundry, and my photos are all piling up on my memory card and needing some culling, the medical bills are still rolling in and piling up on the counter and I am behind in everything. I mean, everything. My pre-baby to-do list is massive and overwhelming. But, somehow I'm too exhausted to deal with any of it. So, here I sit. Watching gymnastics and drinking hot tea (hoping it brings on some kind of miracle tomorrow at my choir audition.)
I'm also kind of in a mini-freak out over the fact that the next time I attempt air travel, it will most likely be with two children. But I won't think about that right now. I'll think about our trip instead.
We had a wonderful time in Minnesota and I took approximately 617,243 photos. Eventually I will post some here [see also: behind on everything.] But for now......a quick story: When my sister, Susan, found out she was going to be an aunt, she said she didn't want to be called "Aunt Susan." She wasn't sure why, but she just didn't like the sound of that title. So, for a while we called her "Non-aunt Susan" but that was kind of retarded and too hard to say. Last year Becca's pronunciation of "Susan" was "Oooh-Foo." That one is kind of sticking. I wonder if she might wish for "Aunt Susan" afterall.
Here are Becca and "Ooh-Fooh" with the catches of the day.