"Now boarding, all passengers traveling with children under the age of 4..."

I can't believe it's been over a month since my last post. What an exciting month it's been, too! I celebrated my birthday and then we spent several wonderfully full weeks in the States over the holidays, soaking up time with family and a few friends, eating some of our favorite foods, and generally re-charging our batteries before plunging back into the London Life a couple of weeks ago. I feel a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of sorting through all our photos (I got a new digital camera for my birthday from my darling husband and his parents!). So, instead of tackling all the holiday stories I have to share at once, I'll begin again with a smaller task - what it's like traveling with a 13-month old!

Aside from the obvious challenge of taking a small child across six time zones (Brooks, can you say "jet lag"?), we really enjoyed traveling with our son. No, we can't arrive at the airport 30 minutes before the plane is scheduled to depart. Yes, we have to pack a lot more stuff. No, we no longer need books or computers in our carry-on luggage to entertain ourselves. But he's an extremely happy baby most of the time and with some food, a drink, a clean diaper, and the occasional nap - he's good to go! This trip, it got to be a fun past-time for us to watch Brooks interacting with strangers in planes and airports - particularly on the flight from Cleveland to Nashville just after Christmas. When Brooks boarded the plane, he gave a dozen or so fellow passengers high-fives as we carted him down the aisle. He laughed and squealed at all the right times, and generally was an ambassador for goodwill to all men. One traveler predicted that Brooks would be running for office in 30 years, and if so, he'll definitely vote for him!


On the flight from Midway back to Nashville, without Eric, I got to take Brooks into the cockpit for his first real glimpse of a pilot's world. Our friend Scott was the first officer on that flight and he snapped a few pictures of Brooks enjoying the view from the captain's chair. Too FUN! Thanks Scott for a peek at the front row!

As we made our way to our seats after that quick view out the windshield, one grandfather-ly fellow passenger said he'd be thrilled to hold Brooks on the flight if I needed a break. And his friend announced with a twinkle-y grin that they'd be auctioning Brooks off to the highest bidder after we were up in the air. Once in Nashville, that same group of plus-65 year olds strolled by me, mom, Sissy, and Brooks as they were greeting us in the airport, and everyone playfully teased mom that they were going to "take this boy home" with them. It was all very cute. (Can you tell how proud I am of my sweet baby?!)

I had been nervous about traveling alone with Brooks back over the ocean, but he was charming as ever throughout our trips last Friday. I had very little trouble navigating check-in, customs, baggage claim, customer service, switching terminals, etc all with him in the baby backpack. (What did mobile parents ever DO without this invention!?) Only one major exception - On the flight from Chicago to London, in our row the seats and the reading lights didn't line up properly. That seems like no big deal, but when the travelers behind us left their reading lights on (until almost 5 in the morning!), we were basically under spot-light-bright lights for hours on end while trying to get some sleep. Brooks tried to be a good sport about it, but I could feel him getting more and more frustrated as he twisted and turned to avoid the glare. I even put his winter bear cap on him, trying to block the light. After several *hours* of this, I requested the sleeper cot that should have been available for our bulkhead seat, but of course, the ground crew had removed it before leaving Chicago. But the flight attendants were great and thankfully the plane was less than 1/2 full, so instead they moved us up to the darkest spot they could find. The last row of "premium economy" meant a dark, quiet place for Brooks to finally nod off in my arms and a larger more comfy seat for me. In all we slept just one or two hours of the eight hour flight, but we made it.

I can't tell you how thankful we were to see Eric, to be finally home and to nap in our own beds that morning. It was probably good that the hardest flight was the last one. While we were certainly sad to say goodbye to friends and family back home, by the time we got back here, we were not sad to unpack the suitcases again and put them away - at least for a few weeks anyway!