This year’s summer holiday to the US couldn’t come soon enough. We were dying to introduce Alfie to everyone and after spending so much time on newborn house arrest, we were in need of a change of environment. The only thing wrong with the US vacay was that it happening without Peter. Yup, Peter had to stay in Hong Kong to oversee things at the restaurant that he had just helped to open. We were all so happy to see the restaurant finally open its doors after 3 years of hard work and prep, but man the timing for our summer holiday was the worst!
In any case, we were still super excited to get back to the fam, to wide open spaces, to root beer and fry sauce and ranch flavored errthang. Peter and I have done several long distance stints, and although we don’t prefer or like it, we have learned to deal with it.
This time stung a little more than most. Why? One word. NEWBORN BABY. Ok two words. I added the “baby” part spontaneously. Yes, temporarily leaving the father of my newborn only two months in meant getting no husband help on the childcare front. No middle of the night relief, no diaper changing help, NO SUPPORT ON AN INTERNATIONAL FLIGHT. A LOOOOOONG ASS INTERNATIONAL FLIGHT (insert several crying emojis here). With a newborn and a boisterous 4 year old.This was mainly what would hurt the most.
The flight ended up being surprisingly non catastrophic. In fact, it was pretty smooth. Alfie was a champ sleeping a good chunk of it and smiling and cooing through the rest. He only gave us a run for our money well twice, when he laid down a big poo TWICE! This was a bit of a surprise as Alfie has an issue with not pooping. So much so that we’ve done a short hospital stay with him because of it. So although the pooping was unexpected, it was welcomed. Who knew that all it took to get Alfie to poop was getting him to 50,000 feet in the air.
Stella was ok for the most part. Of course she got restless a few times. And cried a little bit that she “needed off the plane NOW” once or twice. And she may have completely lost her sh** on final descent of our second flight from San Francisco to Salt Lake City because of the pressure in her ears. She always struggles with that. Poor thing. But all in all, Stells rallied and hung in there.
Thank goodness for Evan though. This is a phrase I find myself uttering several times a week actually. He stepped up and played a major role in all of us getting to the US in one piece. He did it out of knowing he had a duty but also because he’s just a loving kid who wanted to help. When Stella needed to go to the bathroom he was up and at ’em within seconds. When she was thirsty, he was hailing the airline attendant for some water. And Stella was snuggled up to him as usual. Evan also held Alfie from time to time and was just generally attentive to my needs as well. He’s the sweetest boy. And I always feel lucky to have him.
Being welcomed by my parents (and niece) was an amazing feeling. We hopped in the car and drove to Idaho to then be greeted by my brother, sis in law and nephews.
I laid in my bed that night in the room that once was mine and could do nothing but smile. Ahh to be home again.