Part I of this mini-series saw our beloved Little Queen quite literally in the depths following her mis-step. But in Part II we find her with her mama, quite unexpectedly taken to new heights.
Backing up a couple of days, on September 8-the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lady and just two days before the fateful Pond Incident, Joseph Paul was born. Joseph is The Prof's and my new Godson. Ever since his dear parents had invited us to be his Godparents a few weeks prior, The Professor and I had casually talked about my going up to the midwest to partake in the baptism and spend some quality time with the newborn's mother. On the Tuesday following his birth and the Pond Incident we confirmed that the Baptism would be the following Sunday and late in the evening, I secured airline tickets for Little Queen and myself to make the trip.
It is an understatement to state that the other children were severely disappointed to be left behind on this unprecedented trip, but it had to be. Wednesday was spent in resale shops finding bargains on warm clothes for my petite travel companion. I had checked the weather forecast and, as usual, September in the midwest is quite different than here in Central Texas. (According to the Weatherbug on my screen, it is currently 82* at 10:23pm here at the Suburban Ranch!) Thursday morning, Little Queen and I made the first leg of our journey, driving to the big city, riding the shuttle to the terminal and climbing the narrow steps of the 70 passenger jet.
The bus and the airplane were firsts for this thankfully rather adaptable toddler girl. As the airplane lifted off the ground and began its steep ascent, Little Queen stretched her neck like a turtle straining for some out of reach food as she tried to make sense of the noise and the motion, all the while excitedly shouting, "Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa!" Actually the "whoas" went on for about a solid minute while her face read excited bewilderment. Finally, she exclaimed, "Little Queen is TALL!"
The only difficulty with that first leg of the trip is that Almamater was exhausted. The kind of exhausted where it is literally impossible to keep one's eyes open. I'd been up late the night before, gotten up early that morning, made a 1.5hour drive, single-handedly shuffled a toddler and our belongings on a shuttle bus ride, through the terminal and, finally, onto a plane and I WAS TIRED. Climb in and out of car seat? Yes. Eat? Yes. Have Mom read lots of books? Over and over? Yes. Sleep? Not a wink!
Another favorite activity was opening and closing the window shade. "Mama, Mama! Opin da clouds!" "Mama, Mama! Cose it!" Hey, it kept her quiet and occupied and I just love the "open the clouds" line. Open them we did. Each time a lovely surprise. Unfortunately it also kept Alma awake. I will confess that there are a few lost minutes somewhere in that flight, and whatever she was doing during those moments, Little Queen survived them.
We had a transfer at the Cincinnati airport-located, oddly enough, in Northern Kentucky. Wouldn't you know that little Firecracker was sound asleep before we even taxied to the runway? Of course, I didn't sleep a wink; I was past tired. She stirred when we hit the ground (if feels like a hit when you land in those little 70 passenger planes), but snoozed until I awoke her at the terminal.
Alright, that is enough for now. In Part IIB, I will have pics and a description of some of the highlights of our visit in the North.
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