Wednesday, April 1st: The Plane

"Attention all passengers, this is your pilot. On behalf of United Airlines, I invite you to sit back, relax, and enjoy the longest five hours and seven minutes of your life. The weather at your final destination is completely napless with a one hundred percent chance of cranky. Thank you for flying and be sure to ask your flight attendants to demonstrate the proper use of a parachute, should you feel the need to bail out at any time."

I'm not sure why I was so concerned with a plane crash and so little concerned with how I was going to entertain a ten month old for five hours in a 4x8 area. Well, 4x12, actually, since Mase crawled all over the lap of the man in the aisle seat. Luckily, he was a really nice man.

Mason charmed the flight attendants and everyone sitting behind us, whom he peeked at over the seat by climbing me like I was a piece of furniture. He played with every toy and non-toy I'd brought, ate a box of Cheerios, and looked out the window. That was all in the first five minutes. Only five hours and two minutes to go.


He was all over the place, doing everything and anything I could think of. But he didn't sleep. Except once:

That lasted exactly four minutes. I'm serious. Four. Four minutes on the plane, and twenty minutes before that during our layover. Besides that little bit of sleep, Mason was awake for sixteen hours straight because of the time change. Scary.

The funny thing is, being the forever-optimist that I am, I brought a book with me thinking Mase would sleep and I'd get to read. I read two pages when George took him to the bathroom.

When we landed we drug him out to stock up on his food for the week at a Farmer's Market, which was complete with llamas and clowns and dancing Indian girls and an incredible number of real hippies with dreadlocks and RVs. When we finally got back to Megan's, my poor baby practically passed out before he even had his jammies on. And we have to do all that again in a week. Ugh.