I took a two year old on a plane

Traveling with important friends

Traveling with important friends

Taking a two year old on a plane was a great deal different from taking a one year old on a plane. Up until very recently, Hugo preferred being held by me to just about anything, so traveling by plane was easy enough. Easier than long car trips when he had to be in his seat.

Just this past April, he and I went to Atlanta by ourselves. I wore him in a sling on my hip and he mostly slept on the plane. We call him “Slingo” when he’s in the sling.  I mentioned it as we were trying to prepare him for the trip. “We’re going on an airplane to see Grandma B. When we’re in the airport, you will be Slingo.”

“Nooo! No want Slingo!,” but I thought maybe he was just saying that. He wasn’t.

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Moving again!

Hugo and his cousin Connor are the new Dukes of Hazzard.

Yes, we’re moving again on Tuesday with mixed feelings. My husband and I are feeling blue about leaving the shore – living one and a half blocks from Sandy Hook Bay and a free beach for the past 8 months. That’s pretty amazing, and we live across the street from a park. Highlands has some great things going for it. So you know there must be some really compelling reasons to leave…

I went to Georgia to visit with my brother and his family last week. I got to meet my precious new niece and spend some quality time with family. But it was stressful to be away from all the stuff that needed to be packed. Hugo and I went by ourselves and he was very well behaved on the plane again. Didn’t sleep as much as last time, but we were armed with a few episodes of Chuggington on an iPod.  Hugo was uncharacteristically discreet with nursing on the plane and was content to stay in the sling as we made our way through the airports.

Now the cabinets full of glasses, medicine cabinet full of expired sunblock and bins of toys are steadily turning into boxes. I’m excited about the new place.

He’s running away from us

Today Hugo rejected going for a walk in the sling for the first time. He insisted on getting down and running along the sidewalk by himself. I had always carried him on my hip in the sling until we walked to a relatively safe destination like the park or the beach down the block. When we had walked down the street short distances together I always held his hand.

This evening, my son was having none of that. Thank goodness he seemed to understand when I told him to stay on the sidewalk, and that he must hold my hand when we crossed the street. He then practiced his stair-climbing abilities at the bay wall where there is a little concrete platform next to a desert-themed little “park” consisting of strips of mulch containing of yucca plants and cacti.

He did get tired enough to want to be carried on the way home. One other major loss today – Hugo learned to say “Elmo,” who up until a few hours ago had only been known as “Guy!” in our home. He’s growing up so fast.