I had one of those “you know you’re a mom” moment when I found myself sitting in Logan airport waiting for my flight, discussing with a total stranger the fact that I was leaving my daughter overnight for the first time and I feared by the next day my br*easts would be totally engorged. Huh?! I swear sometimes the brain to mouth filter just disappears on my completely! On that note, it was my first time leaving the Pie and it was stressful. I was gone for just over twenty-four hours. Adam said she woke up the next morning and looked for me, but seemed to do okay that day–edgy, but okay. My mom predicted that breastfeeding would be like smoking–the first day is the hardest–and that maybe when I got back that Pie would wean herself. There’s merit to this thought. No basis in reality, but merit nonetheless. I got home at 1 a.m., Pie woke up at 6 a.m. By 7:15 she had Ming Minged three times and was pleading for the fourth. So, in summary, Pie? Not weaned.<\/p>\n
The trip home was sad–my grandmother is having a hard time accepting my grandfather’s death, even though he was 93 years old, and as he told me the last time I visited him, he was ready to go. But as the rabbi said at the funeral, my grandparents’ marriage had lasted long enough to qualify for social security (married for 67 years), so no matter how ready he may have been, she probably never would have been.<\/p>\n
Of course, my family can’t do anything without a touch of drama to it. That would be too easy. My family does nothing easy. Instead, my 13-year-old cousin and his mother, who took almost a full day to get into Miami from the middle of nowhere (they live in a ski resort area that doesn’t have year-round full service at the airport, so they had to drive two hours to another airport that doesn’t fly direct to Miami), didn’t even attend the funeral. They decided they had better things to do. Like, you know, an emergency appendectomy. Happily my cousin is recovering well.<\/p>\n