I’m not a nervous flyer.  I’ve never been afraid of flying.  I mean, there was that one flight – my first from Denver to Steamboat in 2006.  I was in a teeny tiny plane flying through the snow over the mountains.  I don’t know what I expected, but it was not that.  The shaking and the swaying was like nothing I’d ever felt in the air before.  I kept my eyes on the flight attendant the entire time to make sure there was no panic registering on her face.   There wasn’t, but that didn’t stop me from clutching the arm of the unlucky frat boy seated next to me and crying just a little bit.

Other than prop planes over mountainous terrain I’m not a nervous flyer at all.  What I am is a nervous mother.  And in less than 48 hours Addie Baby and I will set off on our latest adventure.  One where she gets to sit on my lap for four hours surrounded by people who won’t be particularly happy to be in our company.  No, that doesn’t trigger my anxiety at all.

I’m trying to convince myself that this will be fun and Addie will love being on an airplane.  And I’m sure that’s true.  She will be super excited to look out the window at the clouds for the first 7 minutes of our trip.  It’s the remaining 3 hours, 53 minutes that concern me.    I have movies, snacks, books and every distraction allowed within the strict limits of the TSA, I’m just worried it won’t be enough.  Can I bring Play-doh on an airplane?   I’ve flown several times with Addison so this routine is not new to me.  But every flight has been a completely different experience depending on what phase Addison is going through. Addison’s current phase involves not wanting to be contained an lots of running away.  This is what worries me.

I should be doing laundry and making lists and packing.  Instead, I’m sitting here alternating between complete denial and complete panic.   They make pills for this, right?

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