Don't forget to bring me!
Like a giant run-way for babies! And I can really cruise on carpeting!
Our flights to and from North Carolina were another matter. First of all, they were out of Ohare, that black hole of travel that seems to suck all problems into its orbit. Second of all, we were flying out on a red eye, when combined with Ohare and the weekend's weather problems and tons of crabby delayed passengers, that meant we had to get to the airport around 4:20AM.
We had planned to stay with our friends Rachel and Kelly in their Evanston home, but weather problems in Europe meant that they weren't back from France yet. So instead we had to radically shift plans, find a bus down from Racine to Ohare and get a hotel in the Ohare area.
The Doubltree kindly provided us this Soviet era gulag prison style crib for Liam (no offense Natasha)
We ordered room service that was pricey as all get out, but actually reasonably tasty. We put Liam to bed in his prison crib, and then--with no where else to go in the room that wouldnt disturb Liam--we retreated to the bathroom where we perched on the tub edge and watched the final few episodes of Dexter before bed. It was actually pretty charming in the way only unexpected and slightly inconvenient things can be.
The Doubletree folks were really nice, and they give out warm cookies which makes me predisposed to like them. When I asked if we would have any trouble getting on the first shuttle of the day (at 4:15am) they assured me we would not. So imagine my surprise when we arrive bleary eyed down to the lobby just after 4:00 and find it packed with about 30 people! We sort of had to wait out in the freezing cold and shove a few people out of the way with a stroller, but we managed to secure a spot on the shuttle, get to Ohare, wait in an hour long line to resolve problems with our connecting flight (a little problem called the second leg took off from Charlotte before we ever left the ground in Chicago). All the while we were on the phone with a nice but utterly unhelpful Indian man from customer service trying to see if we could resolve it on the phone. But thankfully the saint of a woman helping all those crabby customers was impressive and effective and fixed the problem for us.
Our way back from Wilmington wasn't too bad, though there were still some problems with the flights that had to be fixed. I suppose we should consider ourselves blessed on many accounts, as we were flying back after the Christmas day brief's bomber (or "underwear bomber" if you prefer). That really puts just a few mild inconveniences into perspective. Plus, Terry, Liam and Grandma McDonnell got their picture into the paper!
On the way home from Milwaukee to Nashville, the very final stretch of many many too many flights, we finally had our first major delay. Instead of getting home by 730 in time for Liam's bedtime, we would be stuck in the Mitchell terminal with an over tired baby. Recipe for disaster you say?
Well, it could have been. But instead of melting down, Liam decided to crawl around and make friends with all the other waiting passengers. He got lucky in that the two men sitting directly across from us--the first objects of Liam's flirtation--were Grandfathers themselves and more than glad to make fun faces with a giggly little baby. Several of the women in the row also had fun waving at him and making him laugh.
There was a little girl, maybe 2.5 years old with curly red hair whose father was keeping her busy running up and down the main walkway. Liam crawled over to see what she was up to and she immediately exlaimed "baby!" in the sweetest little doll voice and crouched down and then laid on her belly so she could be eye to eye with him. They jabbered at each other and then she ran on. Soon she was back, again proclaiming "Baby!" only this time she added, "I'm gonna kiss him" and then just as sweet as could be she crouched down by where Liam was sitting, puckered her lips, and gave him a little kiss. Then she put her arms around him in a hug, and he sort of half hugged her back, and gave his version of a kiss, which is sort of a sloppy prepubescent opened mouth slobbering.
Apart from visiting his friends in the row of seats where we were waiting, Terry and I took turns keeping him occupied and happy. Here's an example...
No comments:
Post a Comment