Here we are. It’s been 3 years since we left LA, as an engaged couple, and while it feels like yesterday, I’m also light years away from where I was there. Emotionally, leaving LA I was a train wreck. I had no identity outside of wanting to act. No self worth without validation from others. And heavy, heavy fears of what was next for me. But I knew, even through the legendary meltdowns, I was going in the right direction.
Jeff and I have lived a lot of life in these past 3 years, and now it’s becoming time for the next chapter. This winter we are officially moving to Atlanta, GA. Next week we will be heading there to house hunt, and in these last few months, I’m trying to take every second to soak up this island life with our baby girl.
We are so excited for what’s next, but I want to take a moment to be take in what I have learned here.
Flying with a baby. Lord, help me. I planned 4 solo flights with Reegan, within a 2 week period. Short ones. But, still. Sure, I have flown with a baby before. Once. When she was barely 2 months old. And with my husband’s help. But now with a wiggly, opinionated 6 month old? Oh buddy!
The hardest part in the preparation was packing my carry on’s. What would I need at the airport to save us from epic melt downs and trauma? I am the self proclaimed worst packer ever. I brought over SEVEN pairs of high heels on our honeymoon and didn’t use one pair. I pack a 50 pound bag for a weekend. For just me! I carry 2 carry on’s every single time I travel. My “What If” list in my head is SO long. So, when Jeff let me know that I needed to condensed me and Reegs’ things into one suitcase for a 2 week trip… deep breaths. Add in walking through airports with a baby, a stroller, a car seat, and a carry on. Prayers.