In August of 2004 we left China with our baby girl in our arms. It was glorious and wonderful and moving, and emotional and the best thing ever.
(leaving China) (I know I don't like it was glorious, wonderful, moving, emotional, or the best thing ever. No makeup, shower, and no sleep for a few days.) (But oh that sleeping baby in my arms)
But we were tired. To the bone tired. And we had 48 straight hours of travel in front of us. With a new baby (new to us).
And somehow when I packed the carry ons I only had "just enough" diapers.
(Here we are on the airport floor... I brought a plastic table cloth for the babies to play on in between flights)
Who knew that diapers filled with pee explode sometimes in mid air?
Hers did and we went through about 20 diapers from China to Detroit. When we landed in Detroit Anna was wearing her very last diaper. Very last.
The very first thing we did after landing (besides ordering American food) was to hunt down diapers before our connecting flight to Connecticut.
Scott found a pack of diapers. A little bag of like 4. Perfect.
They didn't really fit her but I squeezed her in. And crossed my fingers they'd stay on. It was only a two hour flight. Only two more hours til home.
I called my Mom from the airport (no cells on that trip) and told her to go to the store, buy diapers, and bring them to the airport. Or maybe I called my sister in law because Anna's cousin Ian was the exact same age. Anyway.
We made it home. But boy oh boy did I ever stress about those diapers.
Last night over tea Scott and I were chatting about our upcoming road trip. A total of 31 hours in the car. With one daughter who can't order anything off a menu or anything at a rest stop. I was worried. Okay, panicked. And even though we planned all of the food out there was room in my mama's heart to worry. Scott had only three words.
Diapers in Detroit.
At first I had forgotten. And then we laughed about it. How worried we were. The stress we felt. And how it ALL WORKED OUT.
I don't really travel well. You can ask Scott or my Mom or my Dad.
When I was on my honeymoon in Hawaii I begged and begged Scott to take me home. Yes, I did. (somewhere on this blog is a longer story about that)
Two summers ago I planned the ultimate seven night, eight day trip to Disney. Waited my whole life to take my two little girls there. And the night before I said to Scott, "maybe I could just call my Mom and she could go in my place." And I meant it.
Traveling makes me nervous. And I overcompensate. (except when I forget the basics.) I start buying as soon as a travel decision is made. Clothes for the girls, shoes, hair bows, New things to hold shampoo, a boatload of things to do in the car. So much that we could drive to California and back without an "I'm bored". It might rain and I think my raincoat is a bit too long. Better head to LLBean. I can't stop. It just helps me.
Scott says thank goodness when the trip finally comes. Because she can stop shopping for it.
But I'll have you know that after all of that I am over the moon excited about seeing these friends. And sitting on her porch. (wait, maybe I should get a new sweater... do you think it might be breezy there? Should I go with my cute flats or flip flops???... see there I go again)
And to see these friends too. Over the moon I tell you.
Just as soon as I stop shopping and actually go!
(proof positive that it ALL WORKS OUT) (somewhere in the air between Beijing and Detroit)