25 by 23!

Last night we were flying home from LA, where we had spent a wonderful 2 days with old friends and feeling nostalgic about our previous life on the West Coast, when I started to count up all the flights Noah has taken. At just shy of 23 months of age, Noah has taken a staggering 25 flights! 12 of these flights have been international flights and the flights have ranged in length from 1.5 hours to a whopping 22 hours.

I then began to notice the irony that on his flight, the one flight where I did not throw into our hand luggage a change of clothes for me, that I came to be covered in vomit in the first hour of the 6 hour flight. I consider myself a well-seasoned traveller. I know the procedure for going through the TSA security check-point to a tee. I can manage it with a toddler strapped to me, pregnant and juggling milk, medications and computers. I know to wear slip on shoes, to pack the milk and medications at the top of the bag for easy removal, to put the computer in a tray on its own. I know that planes can be cold and to pack extra socks, a cardigan, a wrap to throw over a sleeping baby, enough books, colouring-in equipment and snacks to entertain a child ranging from 3 months to 23 months. I know to have extra milk on hand in case of delays, a screaming child or being unable to find a grocery store that is open when we land at midnight. I know to pack some infant tylenol (panadol) and nasal spray in case of unforseen congestion or fever mid-flight. I know to pack extra nappies, wipes and changes of clothes for the baby, because planes and cabin pressure can reek havoc on children's digestive systems (I learnt this from sitting next to my nostoriously motion sick sister on every family trip we took as kids). And I know to pack extra clothes for myself - a t-shirt and a pair of leggings.

And yet, here I was at 35,000 feet, an hour into our flight home from LA, 6 months pregnant, a heightened sense of smell, and stinking of vomit combined with the scent from the aloe vera baby wipes. No leggings, no clean t-shirt. Just the prospect of another 5 hours on the plane plus the ride home before I could shower and change. Meanwhile, Noah was smelling minty fresh. He had been washed and cleaned, had a new set of pyjamas on, and was happily snoozing between Nathan and I.

My only consolation, was that Nathan spilled gin and tonic all over his crotch mid-way through the flight. We then smelt like the aftermath of a very boozy night out, just without any of the fun, good food or boozing. Just swollen ankles, back aches and bad in-flight movies.

Planes, trains and fire-engines

"Urrgh!"

A chubby little finger points out the window and the big blue eyes seek out where I am in the room to ensure I am sharing in the excitement. Outside a truck, or a bus, or a fire-engine rolls past the window.

"Bbbbrrrrr!" Noah calls after the truck, doing his best to mimic the "Brum-brum" of the engine. Noah has discovered trucks, cars, buses and most importantly fire-engines. They elicit unparalleled excitement, pointing and talking. Nothing sends Noah scampering to the window faster than the sound of a garbage truck outside.

Even when he is half way to sleep, eyes closed and breathing slowing, if a fire engine's siren is heard in the distance, Noah sits bolt upright, "Urrgh! Bbbbrrrr!" and points, trying to convince me to let him down so he can run to the window to see. No longer does my city baby sleep through anything. I spend much time now praying that no sirens or large trucks pass by our apartment whilst Noah is in the delicate stage of drifting off to sleep. Often these prayers go unanswered - we do live in Manhattan after all, I can't expect God to stop the city so my baby can sleep.

Dogs, pigeons and squirrels elicit similar reactions, with the addition that Noah wants to chase after them, arms outstretched. On a recent trip to the park, Noah was delighted to find the pigeons were distracted enough that he almost caught up to them (mating season). They were actually distracted enough that I got concerned he may actually catch one - thankfully, they did notice the 2 foot tall blue toddler bearing down on them and fluttered off to a safe distance to resume their activities. Not too sure what Noah would have done if he had gotten any closer...

Noah's new found excitement at all things automotive and animal, was only recently surpassed by a friend's little girl's excitement at planes. On taking us to the airport, our friend had suggested that if her 3 year old daughter came along it would make her day. Little did I realise that Mia would be positively breathless at seeing all the planes. Her excitement was palpable still a few miles from the airport, when Mia caught sight of the first plane coming in to land. By the time we reached the airport, Mia could no longer talk, was completely breathless with excitement and could do no more than stammer and point at all the planes. Finally, after catching her breath, Mia managed to tell me exactly what she was feeling, "I JUST LOVE PLANES!"

This sums up what I think Noah was experiencing at the same time. He was excitedly pointing out the other side of the car at all the airport buses rolling past the car. He looked like his little head might explode with happiness, he could hardly contain himself.

"Urrgh! Bbbbrrr! Bbbbrrr! Urrgh! Bbbrrrrr!"