Clare and I went to Dallas last weekend and I was really worried about how she would be on the flight. She’s flown a few time but that was when she was a wee babe, still nursing and easy to soothe.
Not to worry, at least this trip! She was a dream child. I’m not sure if it was the captive audience or what, but she was a live wire, toddling around the waiting area then entertaining everyone while she sat on my lap. A particular favorite was a page with doggies on it in Skymall magazine – page 85 to be exact. I had to memorize the page because on the way home to Seattle we were physically on four planes. Yes, four planes. Crazy right? So the faster I could find page 85, the faster Clare would happily babble at the doggies and kiss the one with fuzzy ears who was sitting in a dog car seat.
It was our flight from Phoenix to Seattle that was the wringer. We boarded one plane, taxied out, and were then sent back because of a mechanical issue. They brought another plane out from a hangar so we de-planed, walked to the new gate, waited an hour and boarded this plane.
We taxied out and prepared to take off. But no, another warning light. The pilots pulled off to the side and the mechanics came out to take a look. Forty-five minutes later they had us go back to the gate, where we sat for another 30 minutes until they said we needed to de-plane and go to a third plane.
Clare was a champ through it all. She was a pile of giggles, kisses and hugs.
And it was truly amazing how helpful and nice everyone was. At every flight in every city, at least three or four people offered to help in some way. On the Phoenix nightmare flight home, we had a small posse . We met Rob, Tri-cities potato farmer; Toni, a hair colorist sales rep / trainer; a retired dancer / flight attendant who was going to interview at UW to become a dance teacher; and many grandparents and parents.
Maybe it was the smiley, giggly baby. Or maybe – and this is my vote – we humans really are just good, helpful people when it comes down to it.
Filed under: Clare
Today Clare walked from one end of the room, around the couch, and into her nursery, all by herself. It was like she suddenly decided that holding onto something is for sissies and that it was time to go it alone. She was very proud of herself and now delights in walking over to you. She will flash you a smile and raise her eyebrows like: “Did you see that? That was like warp speed.” The best part is that half the time she arrives to you, she throws her arms around your neck and gives you a kiss.
Today was also her first swimming lesson. We took her over to the Ballard Pool, about 10 blocks or so from our house. Whether it was sanitary or not, I changed Clare into her little pink swimsuit next to the pool while John changed in the locker room. I didn’t feel like dealing with the chaotic women’s locker room, so there was some nudity. Not me, the baby. I swear it.
Infant swim lessons consist of things I think we all should still do every once in a while: standing in a circle while singing songs, doing the Hokey Pokey, blowing bubbles in the water together. Clare was laughing hysterically when John, as directed by the twenty-something swim instructor who bore an uncanny and somewhat disturbing resemblance to Seth Rogen, would go “Mooooo!” and end the word in the water so that he would blow bubbles but you could still hear the “Moo!” They even got her to stretch out and put her arms in front of her, in a vague resemblance to swimming. This is a huge step from the girl who sometimes freaks out when taking a bath and wants out NOW, for no apparent reason other than she has declared herself done.
It’s so liberating to play like a second grader sometimes. Water games, monkey bars, swings. We should all play like this at least once a week, even if you don’t have kids. Before Clare, I used to go for a jog and stop at the monkey bars for a while. Hang upside down. See if I could make it from end-to-end (Goodness, was I possibly that out of shape??). It keeps us younger. Happier. If only all world leaders had to play hopscotch before every meeting…the world might be a better place….
At any rate, I’m looking forward to my turn in the water with Clare at her next lesson!
Filed under: Clare, Family Life | Tags: baby sitting, Brad Pitt, Clare, Coen brothers
My husband and I saw our first movie in a theater since Clare was born: Burn After Reading. We are both Coen brother fans so it didn’t disappoint, and I have to say that Brad Pitt was spot-on with his Hardbodies character. While Mr. Pitt isn’t quite on my boyfriend list, I would spend the requisite five minutes in the closet with him were we to play Spin the Bottle. My favorite part of the evening though was indulging in a grande drip coffee and a large box of Junior Mints that I refused to share with my husband, even when has asked very nicely. I may have even swatted his hand away at one point. Territory must be defended.
When I was a teenager, I “babysat” a 5 month old boy whom I literally met once, and that was at the introduction session with his parents, the “get to know you” hour. By the time I arrived to their house at 7:00, Sam was in bed. I would read and listen to Bonnie Raitt, because their taste in music was quite different from mine and that was the one tape in their tape deck that I actually liked. I relished the few hours of lounging in their house and relaxing, but I never really appreciated things from their perspective before. Now I wonder where they went to dinner and what they thought of me, this skinny teenager they hardly knew, who was sitting in their house and would soothe their baby if he woke up. It always felt slightly strange to me to take their $25 when all I did was hang out, but now I know it was probably the best $25 they spent all week.
Now, at age 34, that “baby sitting” has had a revival of sorts. John and I swap baby sitting nights with our friends who live across the street. They went out Friday night while their son slept and I lounged on their couch and listened to Nick Drake and Beth Orton on my iPhone. And read a pile of magazines and David McCullough’s “John Adams.” As much as things have changed…they somehow have stayed the same. Hmmmm…that’s a song lyric, right?
