I almost tossed my cookies when I heard about the plane crashing into the Hudson, mostly because we've had Sam on 12 planes already at his tender age, and crashes worry me now, where before I could deal with the mere fact that it could be "my time." My "time" and Sam's "time" are onboard different decades to the big White House in the sky.
Although I'm ecstatic for the 155 people onboard (a mom and baby; ok, make me bawl why don't you?) the NYC aircraft, who all made it out with minor injuries, I would like to apologize to the people onboard flight 566, from Portland to Minneapolis, where Sam coughed and sneezed, screamed and kicked for 3 hours. I always used to detest "those parents," but now we are one.
My favorite memory of the trip, however, may be of the row seated behind us. Sam looked over and smiled at all of them, and then let out the most gigantic sneeze. I couldn't help but laugh under my breath.
And now to digressions...
I just finished reading "Operating Instructions" by Anne Lamott (my second book of hers, and Matt just bought me my third) and, even if you don't have a child, it's hilarious. It's a journal of her son's first year on earth, and his name is Sam. The book is older, but still timely.
I plan to watch every moment of Obama taking his oath of office on Tuesday, and I'll cry along with most of the country. If it's above freezing outside, I actually may round up Sam and take him to the Indiana State Museum, where they'll be showing coverage all day. Sam loves CNN, I'm not kidding.
The emergency room visits in Idaho cost us $1,100! Sam got one breathing treatment and two prescriptions. I really hope that Obama corrects this tragic practice of highway robbery.
Oh...I think I'm buying a new car tomorrow. Horray!!!!
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