Coming Home

Annie and I came home from Florida yesterday. She woke up at 6:02 a.m. and our flight schedule didn't allow time for her usual afternoon nap/rest time, so she was in rough shape already by the time we got to the airport at 2:00. I was planning on using all the bribery tools at my disposal (DVDs, strawberry Mentos, suckers, stickers . . .) and then, mysteriously, we got assigned seats in the first class cabin!

Reasons why I love flying first class:

-the seats are huge
-they serve you actual, hot food
-alcohol
-you get your own bathroom

I am not sure that the many wealthy, middle-aged businessmen who occupied the seats around us were thrilled about our presence, but I certainly was. Eating the meal burned up about an hour of time. Also, we took full advantage of the bathroom access to go three times (again. Annie refuses to go in airports because the toilets flush by themselves, so she saves it all up for when she gets on the plane. Two people do not easily fit inside the airplane bathroom.)

Annie had the biggest smile and hug for Jason when he pulled up to the curb to get us last night at 8:30. Then she fell asleep in the car on the way home, PLG, and missed taking in the gorgeous signs of spring all around us. It was 70 degrees at 9:00 p.m., the daffodils are out, the neighbors are everywhere, and it's officially good to be back on my splendid little street with my whole family tucked under one roof again.

This morning, it was back to life as usual, except for our breakfast with Jemma. She spent the whole meal looking from me to Annie and back again, pausing between bites of waffle to laugh happily and clap her hands. She missed us, I think, and was glad to have us back. I loved holding her on my hip and kissing her chubby cheek, tucking her in to bed tonight, and watching her toddle down the sidewalk this afternoon. I guess I owe her a trip someday, too, just the two of us . . .