The sound of the other shoe

For anyone who has been checking for the other shoe to fall, here it is. The entire family is home and safe and sound and not sleeping very well.

Since our last post, we visited the U.S. Embassy which went very well. Chloe pretty much charmed the pants off everybody working there. As a matter of fact, one representative of the US government “jokingly” threatened not to approve our visa because she wanted our baby for herself. They never even noticed her small pox. Oh well, at least it wasn’t large pox.

That night, we returned to the apartment and started packing for home – no small feat as we needed to strat-a-mo-gize for the twenty hours on a plane with baby. It’s a real puzzle trying to figure out what goes in carry-on bags versus what can be stowed away in the check-in bags.

Baby was a pretty good flyer. For most of the first leg, she slept away in the bassinette that attaches to the bulkhead. When she wasn’t doing that, she was doing what she does best, wrapping random bystanders around her little finger. She sure can turn it on for airline staff and passengers. [Mee interjects here: Ok, I know it’s boring to listen to other parents go on about their kids but really. No, really. Even the Frankfurt security staff were cooing and plucking her out of my arms – to “help” us move through the line more efficiently (or so they said). It’s quite an experience to watch stern German faces go all melty and gooey while staring at your chest – where the baby was hanging on the Bjorn, of course. I guess Pamela Anderson would know what this feels like. She’s got a couple of kids, doesn’t she?] To be truthful, it’s kind of embarrassing. We will have to have a talk with her when she turns eighteen.

At some point during the Frankfurt to Chicago flight, Chloe decided that being a sweet little girl had yielded all the possibilities for amusement that she was interested in milking and here was a good opportunity to try out some alternate moods. The one she landed on was the “super fussy, nothing will make me happy, you guys aren’t doing it right” mood. I’m afraid that she is cute enough to pull it off. Look out, Chicago. Note: This mood may have had more to do with the load she was smuggling than anything else.

During our flight from Frankfurt to Chicago, Chloe’s delightfulness steadily declined with each of the ten hours we were in the air. The effect of this decline on her parents was compounded by the worst flight service of all of our trips related to this adventure. It’s not to say that we experienced any one major disappointment, but rather a collection of missed opportunities to be competent. [Mee again: This was pretty much isolated to one neglectful and at the same time unnecessarily adversarial flight attendant, I’m not too polite to say. Lufthansa take note: you’ve got egg on your staff, and she stinks. Worse than Chloe’s messiest diaper.] When Chloe wasn’t fussing, she was really, really cute. In fact, there was this older German woman who kept looking over at our baby like she thought Chloe’s name might actually be Gretel. A little creepy. Another grandmotherly type stopped by to pick up a Lufthansa postcard from the display next to Chloe’s bassinet. For her airplane postcard collection, maybe? Nice try, old lady. We know you eyein’ up our cute baby. And who could blame you, really?

When we finally arrived in Chicago, we not only had to go through customs, but immigration as well. It was there that it hit me, Chloe is not only becoming our daughter, but she is becoming an American. Something about that struck me as fantastic. Our ‘lil nibbler – an Americanski.

We were picked up at the airport by our friends Jane and Esther. Most people may not realize how nice a gesture this was, because most won’t ever smell a family of three who haven’t showered in nearly two days. That’s right. We stank! I’d crapped my pants somewhere over Nova Scotia but when I went to change them, the flight attendant rudely reminded me that the seatbelt sign was still on (it had been on since Scotland).

Last thing, we walked into our quiet little house with our sleepy little baby and nearly collapsed. Wow!