A week from today we leave to head north to visit family in Halifax. Hudson will get to meet his whole family and we might get to meet Baby Woods. Either way, we will see Andrew and Jenny and Anthony and Penny and Hudson will spend time with his grandparents and great-grandparents and that is exciting all by itself.
We will also be going apple picking in the Annapolis Valley, which has been a family tradition for many years. Even more so than the actual apple picking, there is a traditional rotten apple throwing battle that ensues. Inevitably someone gets hit in the wrong place with an apple, gets hurt, then turns cranky and the fun is over. For 'those people' (cough, Dad, cough) I wanted to point out this passage from the web site referenced above:
Behaviour and Attitude:
Pickers are expected to be on their best behaviour when in the orchard. A cheery attitude makes it better for you and everyone else. No one appreciates a grumbler.
Anyway, back to the original story....
I decided to take a look at our reservation to make sure I knew when we were departing, etc. I had spelled Mike's name wrong on the reservation, with two M's: mmichael. I was pretty sure that the security folks would consider a tall, pale (but handsome) dude as a terrorist with a name spelled like mmichael so I called the airline to have it corrected. After 15 minutes, they had issued him a new ticket.
So I thought I should mention to the ticket agent that we would be bringing an infant on with us to sit in a lap (no, I'm not spending $500 so that Hudson can have his own seat). There is no way to book 'Infant on Lap' through the online reservation system, so I ASSumed that he didn't need a reservation. Turns out that Infants On Laps need tickets too! Why did I not consider this? He needs a passport so of course he would need a ticket. I am an idiot. Anyway, $15 later, he now has a ticket and will not be denied entry to the jetbridge.
Hudson has started to shun baby food and does not want to be spoon fed anymore. It never fails, when Mike is feeding Hudson he bats the spoon and the food flies everywhere. So far Mike's solution to this problem is to pin H's baby-arms below the high chair tray (though it never works). There is a web site that I reference frequently about infant feeding so I consulted it, and sure enough, found a great article on what to do in this situation. As it turns out, it is time to let him feed himself. Last night I gave him diced chicken and macaroni and let him go to town. The night before it was ground beef and mashed 'taties.