Monthly Mushy Mommy Post
The plane rides were fun. Yeah, that was plural. We had to go to Atlanta first, then to Austin. The first leg of the trip was ok. I was next to a 9-year old boy that, for the most part, slept and ignored me. The second leg was the most fun I've had in about 18 months.
There was the cutest little baby in the bank of seats next to me. I was on the aisle - not my favorite spot - I prefer the window. The aisle is a far more sociable place, however, as you get a better view of your fellow passengers. You also get to interact with them, which in this case, was a lot of fun.
This baby is about 14 months old - I know, I asked - and just as cute as a bug's ear with her tawny skin, chubby cheeks, and mysterious Eastern eyes. She's a delight to watch, too, flirting with us all. She plays peek-a-boo and blows kisses with adorable precocity. A musical stream of high-pitched baby babble fills the cabin now, taking me back to when my own sweet Peanut was a curious toddler. The smallest details are winging by - the way she'd rub my arm with her tiny starfish hand while she nursed, the splashy baths in the kitchen sink, the nonsensical jabber whenever we traveled by car.
I recorded a lot of Peanut's cute moments and "firsts" in her baby scrapbook. Some will always be with me, surfacing when in the presence of a thoroughly adorable toddler. Apples, for instance, were "Bapples." Dogs were "Uff uffs." Cows said "Meuh" and Ducks said "Kak kak." Ordinary things were extraordinary in Peanut's eyes. I remember her expression when she learned how to turn on her electronic music cube. The lightbulb went on, and she was soon experimenting with all the buttons on the cube.
The princess in the next row is playing with some stickers that I had in my purse. I have all kinds of stuff in there, just by being a mom. I had lollipops for the 9-year old on the last flight. So I passed the stickers over when the baby began getting restless. Instantly transfixed by the adhesive, she quieted right down with amazement all over her baby face.
This thing is sticking to my finger and I'm not even trying to hold it. Wait, now it's sticking to my other hand. Hey! It can stick on the bottom of my foot! Can it stick on Daddy's shirt? Or his nose? How about my nose? Get it off!! GET IT OFF!!
As I headed toward 4 days of stultifying boredom in Austin, I vowed to try to hold on to that innocent fascination in new things.
Guess what? Nothing new at my conference. I guess I'm too old for innocence.