Taking the Waters
Perhaps going to Connellsville is the baby equivalent of heading to Swizerland to take the waters or retreating to a week of pampering at the Golden Door. We’ve returned from our five-day trip refreshed and, more importantly, non-teething—for now, at least—and it’s such a relief to once again see Lucia’s happy, dimpled smile and hear her pleasant babbling. Lucia spent the week surrounded by adoring family members wishing to do little but play with her, feed her, sing to her, and hold her, so it’s no wonder she’s a happy baby. We saw even more people at the Orlando family picnic on Sunday—it was a whirlwind trip of showing off the baby.
The flight home was tough—we were forty-five minutes late, and those forty-five extra minutes were spent on the plane, either sitting on the runway in Pittsburgh or circling around JFK. It was quite torturous with a wound-up baby who was increasingly difficult to entertain, and we left the plane a bit battle-weary (and covered in teething biscuit slime). But Andrew was there to meet us, and we returned home to an immaculate apartment; Andrew spent his baby- and wife-less days hanging pictures, hanging blinds, and getting things into shape. The apartment really feels like home now.
And so our Brooklyn life resumes.
The flight home was tough—we were forty-five minutes late, and those forty-five extra minutes were spent on the plane, either sitting on the runway in Pittsburgh or circling around JFK. It was quite torturous with a wound-up baby who was increasingly difficult to entertain, and we left the plane a bit battle-weary (and covered in teething biscuit slime). But Andrew was there to meet us, and we returned home to an immaculate apartment; Andrew spent his baby- and wife-less days hanging pictures, hanging blinds, and getting things into shape. The apartment really feels like home now.
And so our Brooklyn life resumes.
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