Sometimes I underestimate my child. I forget that in eighteen-months Hal and I have been blessed with a very easy, mild-mannered, low-maintenance little dude. Archer sleeps through the night, twelve hours like clockwork and seldom has temper tantrum, happily goes down for a three-hour nap every afternoon, puts up with my health food like a champion and kisses me on the eyeball every eighteen minutes.
He also looks exactly like Paddington Bear in his Pea Coat. But cuter.
... And so I have to take a minute to salute his trooperdom with this delicious batch of Boulder-photos.
Archer loved the airplane. He laughed during take-off and flirted with the cute girls in the isle over. He chomped Pirates Bootie and crackers and played with the air-conditioner and we read the AA Emergency pamphlet over and over (and over). During landing, he stared curiously out the window and shrieked in delight when we hit the runway with a jolt.I'm not looking at the camera, Mom.
I was so thrilled with his ability to travel I nearly burst into tears for I have fantasized in secret to one day afford to travel the world with the child(ren), living out of suitcases and hotel rooms and various haunted mansions, crashing with friends and strangers-- Pensions and fancy-shmancy hotels and Winebaggos (Oh My!)...
Don't step on the crack or I'll break my Momma's back and she will cry.
I've always thought "putting down roots" was overrated. I have no desire to own a house or a car or expectations. I don't want to grow out of the constant need for adventure and spontaneity and curiosity and the itch to get up and go somewhere. See something. Mingle with strangers in strange lands. Get lost and struggle to find the way, speak in code/learn the languages of distant and obscure lands. And now I know that Archer's up for it. My darling little Paddington Bear, who sat happily on busses and trains and fell face-first in the snow (we went to Rocky Mountain Park to hang out with snow. And yes, I was happy.)
Tolstoy, eat your heart out.
On our flight back to L.A, Archer slept the entire time. The only casualty was my arm, which also fell asleep and didn't wake up until we reached Baggage Claim A. Hardly worth complaining about, though.
And so I continue to fantasize about my further adventures, traveling the world with a passport and no agenda, some cash and a very little, very curious, sleeps-with-his-butt-in-the-air, very airplane-saavy little fishy-fins.
zzzzzzzzzzzz. plth. zzzzzzzzzzzz. fin.
The boy is magic ...And nothing's gonna stop us now.