I have mixed emotions about this blog post. On one hand, I am so excited that you were able to experience your first plane ride this past holiday weekend. On the other hand, I am still completely traumatized by the fact that you were
I went into both flights thinking that I could really care less what other passengers think if you get upset. You're a baby. You cry. You can't help it if your ears begin to hurt - you can't chew gum, yawn on command or swallow in a way that will help make them pop. Your mother, on the other hand, can help you by not trying to feed you a ridiculous amount of food thinking that the continuous "sucking" will help remedy the situation. But, guess what? I cared. I cringed. I almost started crying myself because all I could think about is what do all of these other people think? Daddy, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less about everyone else. He got it. He understood what you were going through and may have spent more time trying to calm me down than you.
So, as you may imagine, I am left with mixed emotions. I want to take a solo flight with you next month to visit family, but am terrified. Forget how I am I going to lug everything into the airport, through the airport and onto the plane - what am I going to do if you start crying uncontrollably and I don't have your Dad with me to help (calm me down)?
What probably topped the entire situation off is that as soon as we exited the plane, you not only let out a large burp, but you spit up everywhere and then started to crack up. If only you had done that on the plane...