We're taking our first flight with the boy this Thursday. We're heading back to NY, MA and CT for my cousin Lee's wedding and to introduce the Ninja to the Northeast relatives that have not yet met him. While I'm definitely excited to see the family, I couldn't be less thrilled at the prospect of our first five hour flight with what has turned into an unpredictable baby. Especially in light of the fact that he spent this evening stretching his lungs for the flight with his latest operatic piece, Baby Screams in the Key of Angry. He sounds like a tiny little Glenn Danzig. Actually, that's redundant, since the Ninja is probably taller than Danzig. In fact, that gives me an idea. With a Sharpie, I'll bet I could whip up some tattoos on the boy and try to pass him off as Danzig. That should be good for an upgrade, right?
Where was I... oh yeah.
Always game to try and find a way to reduce trip preparation time from "days" to "minutes," thereby maximizing stress the night before departure, we decided to once again pack everything we own into our Subaru and head up to the cabin for the weekend. The boy wasted no time voicing his displeasure over our choice of departure time and the subsequent traffic that resulted. If that 3 1/2 hour trip is any indication of what awaits us this week, I can only hope that we get a kindly old grandmother type as a seat mate. That, or Cesar Millan. I'll bet he knows how to settle a baby.
All was forgotten on Saturday, as the Ninja decided to treat us with a very special performance when he rolled over for the very first time. And to prove that he wasn't a washed up baby of (almost) 4 months after that career defining piece, he immediately did it again. Of course, he refused to do it once the camera came out, so you'll just have to take our word for it. It's probably best that you can't see it, since I'm sure all of you wet blankets would just point out that during the second roll his head is an infant hair away from cracking open on the wood stove's stone hearth. Not our proudest parenting moment, but what can I say? We were caught up in the excitement of the gnarly infant 360.
I'm sure that our trip back East will have far more exceptional moments to make us forget about the inevitable pain we'll endure getting there. For years, we've been big proponents of the school of thought that, "It's not about the destination, dude/man/bro/officer, it's about the journey."
Allow me to counter with my new dad credo: "I'll pay double if you can get me there before he wakes up." I think I'll file that one right under my other air travel motto: "And make it a double."
As I continue to freak myself out over the upcoming flight, please enjoy some relaxing pics of mom, dad and the Ninja up at the cabin during happier times. He's really digging driving us around Easy Rider style.