Lin Hawthorne

Dear son, although I appreciate the dedication to and passion with which you throw your fits, it won’t get you any closer to your own way. Love, The Dictator.

Overheard today at Cosco from a cart next to me: Little boy glances at Joshua then asks mom- “Mom, why can’t I have a little brother to play with?” Mom- “Son, that ship has sailed. That’s why I got you a puppy.”

Dear sick, teething infant, I don’t like you right now. You’re pushing me to the border of crazy town. I think I’ll get off the mommy train tonight and stay at the most luxurious spa imaginable. If only it worked like that.

And thus concludeth our first flight with an infant. At one point, we were literally throwing the screaming child back and forth like a hot potato going “What should we do?” “I don’t know!” “Think of something!” But we made it. Thank you to all the kind and understanding souls sitting around us. You were all not-so-willing participants in our micro-study of crisis management.