I was up at o’dark thirty this morning to catch a 9 am flight. I spent the last two weeks stressed about today and it could not have been any smoother (though I’m afriad I’ve used up my travel mazel before the return trip). Roo was AMAZING. He didn’t complain on the way to the airport even though I woke him up at 5:30 am (this is where I need to say I had already been up for 45 minutes. Holy.), fell asleep before we boarded the plane, slept through takeoff, and then hung out on my lap and made little sounds and chewed my thumb for the rest of the flight. I am counting my blessings.
Now I’m at my parent’s house, without NSG, for the next few days. I asked them before I came not to second-guess my parenting (which they did, hard-core, the last time I saw them and then insisted they weren’t second-guessing, just trying to be helpful). Already today my mom has given me an argument about how he’ll smell like a salad if we use olive oil on him after his bath (he doesn’t) and how his hair will look greasy if we use Vaseline (which gives him rockin’ little curls). Why? Aren’t grandparents supposed to be able to roll with the punches?
I’m dreaming, aren’t I?
But she was beside herself to see him, so she made up for it.
My mantra: I am a duck, and this will roll off my back. Roll, roll, roll.
Wish me luck!