Our little Hannah took her first steps on Saturday morning. I think they were accidental, but it was still a reason to celebrate. Paul was holding her hands while Aaron and I watched. He let go and there she went - two steps, and then straight onto her bottom! We all cheered. But she hasn't repeated it yet.
We leave for England on Saturday, and I'm quite convinced it's the worst timing for Hannah to ensure a 7-hour-flight - she's so excited to move, that sitting still for that long is going to make for an unhappy baby. I just hope we have understanding flight attendants and fellow passengers.
Aaron, on the other hand, is at a perfect age for this sort of trip. He soaks in everything, a new country will certainly be an exciting experience for him. I'm sure he'll notice details that I never have before. That's the beauty of traveling with kids, right? The first words out of his mouth this morning were, "That was one more sleep. How many left?" (We count days in sleeps around here. The answer was 5.) He's got all sorts of questions about where he will sit in the car, and when we can go to the "ball pit." It's sure to be momentous.
Maybe I should just bring a big package of wipes on the plane and let her pass them out