The Young and the Binkiless

Time flies, even when you're in the midst of the largest poopy diaper you have ever seen.

And sometimes, when you're having fun, too.

This past week we made a trek via airplane to St. Louis to visit my brother and his wife. Just two years ago we swore up and down to each other, pray God to strike us dead if we didn't, that we would never, ever, ever take Sydney anywhere which required flying until she was 18. Fortunately we didn't specify the unit of time.

At 18 months, Sydney isn't saying much, but what she does say speaks volumes. For instance, if one of your only words is "hat," you will make sure that everyone around you knows that the world is full of hats. Lately the fullness of the world is divided between hats and shoes, and the newest addition, cars, threatens to push hats off to the sidelines. Planes aren't cars, though. No, planes are items which, though fun in theory, are a bastion of pure toddler torture. All these people to smile and play peek-a-boo with, a full aisle to walk up and down, and a Fasten Seatbelt Sign on for most of a turbulent flight. What could be worse?

Still it wasn't all bad, especially the Itsy Bitsy Spider with Aunt Stephanie, and the chimpanzees Sydney struck up a conversation with at the zoo, and the long, long message she managed to leave on our home answering machine, after somehow successully dialing our number on the cell phone. Her first attempt didn't make it out of St. Louis. That's because she dialed Uncle Nathan, who was driving.

Anyway, we're back. We're out of the "car". We've bought a new "hat" (it says St. Louis Zoo). We managed, we think, to bring everything and everyone back, even though we lost the parking ticket at the airport. Note to my childless friends out there: Yes, children are a lot of work. But everyone sympathizes with you when you have one. If you can stand the 3 o' clock sleepless night and the 4 pm tantrum for no reason, then having a kid will get you places. And then nice people will help you get out of those places.

Having a kid will make your blog entries schizophrenic, too. Oh well. Can't have everything.