A first trip

We survived our inaugural airplane trip. Actually, we more than survived it. We enjoyed it. Augie was great on the plane, eating and sleeping the entire way. In retrospect, I think 3-months is a great age for a first trip. I wouldn't have had the necessary confidence earlier and soon he'll be too big for the soft wraps that made it all so easy. 

We spent one night up at Mt. Riga with my high school friend Sarah and her family. It was cold and raining, the ground completely saturated and muddy. Augie slept in a pack n play for the first time in a cabin with a wood stove. The fire went out some time in the night and when I went to pick him up to nurse in the middle of the night, he was frozen. I felt horribly negligent, but he didn't seem to mind a bit. It was lovely to see old friends and feel that perfect kind of familiarity.

On Friday, we drove up past my high school in Sheffield, MA. We had sandwiches in one of my favorite spots, Great Barrington and then drove on to meet a gaggle of college pals for a wedding in Lenox (at Edith Warton's house "The Mount"). It was totally relaxing. In fact, I kept telling Josh that I was more relaxed than I'd been since Augie's birth. We needed to get out of town, have a change of scenery, and reset our patience.