I think K2 must be cutting an upper tooth while contracting the flu and food poisoning and growing pains, because the last 24 hours have been the single worst day and night of her short life. She was an inconsolable wreck all day, and then we were up all night with her, too, with nothing but infant Motrin and red desert sand to comfort her.
So yeah, if you're on the flight from Las Vegas to Washington DC we're driving to in a few minutes, I hope a weepy, squirmy baby won't distract you as you count all your blackjack winnings.
UPDATE: totally called that one wrong. Both kids did brilliantly. Even if there wasn't a newborn behind us, a drunk slut in front of us loudly hitting on the married firefighter next to her, and a couple of grabby Australian toddlers roaming the aisles, they would've won the gold.
K2 cried and squirmed while we were boarding, trying to build suspense--or because she was overdue for a nap and a bottle. She slept from the minute she sat down, and then another hour-plus up through the landing. I've found that the lavatory changing tables on A320's and 777's make great, clean spots for a crawling break. We'd just stay in there for a couple of minutes, not long enough to hold up the line, and the kid gets a little freedom. And despite the timezones, they both crashed at home with little fuss. Go figure.