I get tired just thinking about my upcoming trip to the US.
YES, I am very excited to go.
YES, I am very excited to see friends and family.
YES, I am very excited to eat-salad-every-day-without-worry-of-illegal-pesticides.
You see, I have learned that the hardest thing about international travel with an infant isn't the part on the plane (although that can certainly be a challenge). And no, the hardest thing isn't that you-can't-bring-anything-you-need-on-the-plane-like-teething-gel. As it turns out, the hardest part is that the little one doesn't really "get" the time zone thing - especially when your destination is 10 hours behind. It's a total night/day flip/flop. You leave on the same day you arrive after traveling a-gazillion-hours.
It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to function like an adult during the day.
Maybe this time Chase can drive; I will sleep in her car seat.
