We are in California for my Grandad’s funeral. Lewis came down with me, and he did surprisingly well on his first flight ever.
However, he has not continued to do well.
He won’t let anyone else hold him or touch him or even really look at him or come near him. Most of the time he won’t let me put him down either. He won’t hardly eat. And now he is up in the middle of the night screaming.
I feel bad for my brothers and my brother’s girlfriend, with whom we are sharing a suite at a hotel. I feel bad for myself because I’m doing this on my own. And I feel bad for Lewis. This is clearly very hard on him.
I am so grateful to be around family while we all mourn, and I will never regret attending my Grandad’s funeral. But after all the challenges of traveling with a baby, I can’t help but think to myself that I’d like to go home now.
I told Kyle I didn’t need him to come. I told him I’d be fine because I’d have buckets of willing helpers. And I do… everyone is willing to help in every single way.
…but Lewis won’t let them.
So I have to handle him and all his shenanigans on my own. I should have asked Kyle to come. Big mistake.
This is harder than I thought it would be. And I’m hardly able to enjoy my wonderful family and mourn with them because I’m constantly dealing with a sad? sick? scared? baby.
I don’t know what is up with the kid. But I do know I want to go home. This is just way harder than I thought.