We were slightly nervous about how L would do on the plane ride. He has flown several times before, but when he was much younger and able to nurse and then sleep on takeoff and landing. He did wonderful on the flight there, but the return flight was a different story. He has been fighting a cold already, and between the plane ride, the change of weather and the complete abandonment's of schedule it grew progressively worse and seemed to spout horns and a tail on the return flight home. We became, in a few short house, that couple. The couple that, when you were younger and long before you ever had kids, you wonder why they would ever bring their child on an airplane. He screamed.... and screamed.... and screamed... for three hours. It was awful, and I went into full mama bear mode, staring daggers at anyone who dared give an irritated glance in our direction. But we survived, and the important part is the fun we had this weekend.
And really, I have no words to commemorate the weekend by. I think pictures would tell the story much better. But, needless to say, we laughed and we talked and we drank and we ate and we remembered and reminisced about how absolutely important family it. These people make me who I am and I am so happy my husband is getting to spend time with them at such a young age.
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