Trip to San Diego!

Despite heaps of maternal anxiety, Asa's first flight(s) went remarkably well.  The worst of it was an excess of bodily fluid... but we're parents.  We're accustomed.

Fortunately, it turns out that Asa is not a screamer.  Pressure changes don't seem to phase him much, and he responds well to the suggestion that sucking his thumb might help.  Granted, it's hard to make a toddler sit still for nearly five hours, no matter how many books, how many cool toys, even how many Sesame Street and Muppet Show DVDs one may have brought.  But it could have been so very much worse.

Besides: he loves planes.

On the flight home, the bodily fluids weren't bad - he wet through his diaper twice.  Unusual, but not devastating.  It was on the way out that things got interesting.  Here's the recipe:

Take two slightly nervous mothers who managed to get themselves and their toddler to the airport by 6:30am;

Add seats in the very last row of the airplane;

Mix in several of the toddler's favorite snacks, like goldfish, dried fruit, and milk;

Subtract maternal organization in the form of a clean change of clothes in the carry-on;

and SHAKE WELL.

By this I mean, of course, add some of the worst turbulence that I've ever experienced (which is worse, we discovered, at the back of the plane).  Result: puke.  Secondary result: toddler stripped to nothing but socks, shoes and diaper.  Usually, that's how you leave the Las Vegas airport, but it's how Asa arrived there, to the hilarity of the airline staff at the arrival gate.  So our little boy is now the owner of a new Las Vegas t-shirt, and his parents are much the wiser.  And more organized.