The Friendly Skies

She was an updated version of the Laura Ingalls we watched traipse across the meadow for the opening of Little House on the Prairie: Long, brown braids fuzzing out from wear, big eyes full of innocence, striped cotton dress in a post-Laura whimsy pattern. She pulled a hot pink Dora the Explorer suitcase, as poised as an adult as she passed by us at the end of G terminal at Ohare last week. Our reasonably-priced Travelocity ticket cost us an extra-long layover in Chicago, extra-extra-long when you take into account Ohare's reputation for delays. Annie, our social bumblebee (as opposed to social butterfly, which implies quiet and graceful) busied herself doing laps at the end of the terminal, paying special attention to small children and anyone bearing food or drink. She made a beeline for a woman with a small carton of Dannon, pointing and yelling, "Oh-durt! Oh-durt" She played peek-a-boo with a grinning 4-year-old traveling with his parents and brother. But it was the Laura lookalike that most captured my little half-pint's attention.

"Can I read you a story?" she asked Anne, as we made our umpteenth round about the terminal. "You can sit here," she motioned to us, willing to share her seat. "Oh, I would LOVE to sit down," I told her, "But Anne likes to be on the move!" I replied as I chased my girl through yet another cluster of moving travelers. But something in the sweetness of Laura's tone, or perhaps the colorfulness of her intensely illustrated Disney book captured my busy baby's attention. Laura was able to do, in a matter of moments, what I had failed to do in the four hours we had spent at the airport awaiting our connection: Get Annie to sit still! The two created a scene reminiscent of a Rockwell painting, hunched together over book after book, exchanging chatter as their proud mommas smiled on: "Does she have any siblings?" I asked Laura's mom. "She's great with kids!" No, she replied. But she'd like a baby brother or sister, really bad. Apparently so.

Coincidentally, Laura and her mommy ended up on our flight to Champaign. In fact, Laura had been assigned the seat directly in front of ours. Instead of paying attention to the safety instructions prior to take-off, Annie and Laura were busy playing peek-a-boo and giggling at one another through the cracks between our seats. Laura kept handing back books for Anne to look at, although Anne was much more interested in her new friend than in her new friend's books. At one point, I nursed Anne to help alleviate the effects of cabin pressure changes. I was at first horrified, then amused when Laura turned and made loud sucking noises as Anne nursed. (Ah well, the middle-aged man sitting next to me did say he had kids, so he would understand). Anne kept popping off to see where the sucking noise was coming from, then laughing, apparently understanding the unspoken joke, and returning to her milk.

At first I found it somewhat disconcerting that, when purchasing a plane ticket online, Travelocity asks for the number of adults traveling and for the number of children over two years old traveling. Doesn't my baby count? There is no place to indicate that I am traveling with my heart outside my body. Until we check in for our flight, no one even knows she exists, let alone that she will dictate whether anyone catches any in-flight shut-eye. Anne loves to travel, and I love the two-for-one deal we can enjoy until her birthday next year. Until then, my "babe in arms" will continue to fly the Friendly Skies for free.

Birthday Bash!