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Feb. 20, 2000 - Sunday
What started as a nightmare situation - getting to the airport with baby in tow only to find that our flight had been canceled - turned into a blessing in disguise. We had to hang around the airport for more than three hours, but it really wasn't bad. And, if I had the choice of taking the original flight or taking the waiting, I wouldn't change a thing.

First of all, we were able to spend a quiet hour with Harry's Grandfather, who drove us to the airport, away from the hubbub of the big weekend. We strolled the airport shops, which were surprisingly good for airport stores, and chatted for a while before he had to leave. While he was still there, Harry put on a little show for the three women at the airport information stand. Actually, it wasn't Harry, but rather the women that created the show, going on about how cute Harry was and admiring his hair and little round face. It was really very funny and a lot of fun.

Because of the inconvenience, the airline gave us a food voucher for $30 so Harry's mother and I each got fruit smoothies and frozen yogurt to relax with and pass the time. Instead of a flight during Harry's peak fidgeting hours between 8-10pm, our new flight was at 10:10pm, getting in at 11:40pm. That meant, of course, that we were waiting in the airport during Harry's grumpy time, but the airport was full of new sites for Harry, was equipped with a deluxe changing area in the men's room, and occupied Harry's attention without any aggravation that his mother couldn't satisfy.

Best of all, our seats home were much more comfortable than they would have been on the earlier flight. I don't know whether it was having the baby with us, but when the airline put us on the next and last flight of the day home, they gave us First Class. With plenty of room to relax, Harry slept the whole way home aside from highly appropriate snacks during takeoff and landing, and it was late enough to not affect his sleep for the rest of the night. After we got home, Harry slept until after 8:00 in the morning.

A helpful friend suggested to me, as I was expressing concern for Harry flying, that a baby's first instinct whenever they feel pain is to want to eat. It was great advice, and Harry was true to it. Both during takeoff and landing he started twitching his head side to side with what must have been the early stages of ear pressure pain and almost simultaneously started moving his month in a dream about his mother. A quick presention of a food option was all it took to keep him happy. The advice has also proved valuable in other circumstances as well, as I have learned to read Harry a lot better and now know he's not always hungry when he thinks he is.


Comments, opinions?