Andrea's POV - Home at Last

And I am BAGGED, despite having at least twice the amount of sleep Allison had last nite, as Ebba has conveniently remained on Addis time, which is 8 h earlier than here. Which means she slept on the plane from Heathrow to Montreal, then NAPPED for 3 h upon return to the homestead (which was sometime after, what, 8 pm local time?). Allison, I think, will have had a brutal first Christmas Day with Ebba...

The flight home was....well....interesting. No bulkhead seats for the 12 mo and her travelling companions, no siree Bob. That would go to the 8 mo and her travelling companions, tho someone please explain to me why a non-walking infant needs more space than a toddler that strongly resents being restrained.

The flight from Addis to Heathrow was via Damascus, where we went from being 2 adults plus one toddler (plus all the required paraphenalia required to appease said toddler and, to a lesser extent, the adults) squashed into a row with 3 seats to the same squashed into a row with 3 seats plus another adult, as PASSENGERS were picked up in Damascus, and we went from being a non-full airplane to being a full one.

OH, that leg of the journey was not pleasant - Ebba did NOT want to be confined, and proceeded to kick the seat back of the man in front of her, throw all manner of things into the aisle, and throw regular tantrums. With the stress of travel on top of the stress of everything else, she also refused everything but bottles, which was tricky, as if you gave her a fullish bottle (180 mL) at intervals strategically designed to keep her from screaming, she'd overflow all over herself, Allison, and whatever Allison happened to be sitting on (having now scrubbed dried baby milk formula vomit out of fabrics, I can tell you the stuff is like glue, and stinks to boot).

We then rejigged the strategic plan to include bottles pretty much on the hour, with half the amount of milk. No more spewage, and it at least appeased Ebba for short periods of time (tho removing the emptied half-filled bottle resulted in outrage at not having the "I'm so full, I need to vomit all over Mommy" feeling in her tummy, which wasn't very pleasant). Allison spent most of that leg of the journey standing in the aisle, trying to keep Ebba from driving the entire plane crazy. I became a master at mixing up a bottle of formula (OK, milk powder) in record time.

The changeover in Heathrow went smoothly, and with no wait, we changed terminals, went thru security again, and proceeded directly to the gate. This plane was bigger, with 2-4-2 across (and at the back, 2-3-2). This time, we were slated for 2 seats on the right side of the plane - having had a less than pleasant experience sharing 2 seats with 2 adults + Ebba and all her stuff, Allison made a plea to one of the flight attendants as we boarded, that if 3 seats were possible, we'd be eternally grateful. Well, bless their little French Canadian hearts, they pulled it off, and a couple with an adjacent empty seat agreed to switch seats with us.

It was AWESOME - Allison and I sat on the aisles, we had oodles of space, some kid was sitting in front of Ebba (kids tend to mind less that their seat back is being swatted and kicked and climbed and used as a propulsion mechanism), we had seat back on-demand video screens, and after some initial histrionics (most likely caused by tired + teething + travel + restraint), Ebba SLEPT. We ate an undisturbed dinner, watched movies (finally saw and heard Wall-E, the Pixar film, which had been running on the previous leg of the journey, but there was too much Ebba stuff to actually WATCH it except in pieces), and rested (no sleep, tho, for me, and I doubt for Allison, either).

Upon arrival, Customs and Immigration were a breeze, luggage took a little longer, and then Allison got pulled over for a spot check. But, finally, we rolled out of the baggage claim area, and Ebba met the rest of the family. Honestly, someone should have taken pix - Ian was in tears, he was so overwhelmed by meeting Ebba. As for Ebba, back to the deer in the headlights look for a while, tho she seemed back to normal by 5 am today.

Ian's sister and brother-in-law both brought me from the Montreal airport last nite, and picked me up this morning to deliver me back there, for my flight home this morning. They were wonderful - they brought me a coffee, a card, and a gift (tho I left the gift of local artisanal cheese with them, for I know the cheese is VERY good, and it would have been a shame to have the USDA throw it out when I passed thru customs).

The day (as viewed from the MTL airport) dawned clear and bright, I managed to get a cup of coffee and a raspberry scone from the Second Cup in the airport, and the flight left almost on time - last minute snow meant a delay for de-icing. Arrived in Philly in plenty of time to get lunch (a real actual salad, which wasn't half bad tho some of the veg had been previously frozen, and I had to pick out all the onions and black olives, and a non-dairy smoothie - vitamins! and fibre! real food!), and board the plane to GSO, which also left and arrived on time.

So, on this Christmas Day, I got to see an old friend, had smooth sailing home, got home in time to pick up my dog (who is a STAR at daycare/overnite camp, apparently), and even had snow. Despite being dog tired, does it get any better than this?

And now, I think I have drawn out the day long enuf to enable a relatively smooth transition to local time. It is 8:45 pm here in GSO, so, what...plus 8 h...4:45 am in Addis. Yup, time for bed.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, all.

A