Step 2: LAX to Brisbane

Flight from O'Hare was smooth, almost disturbingly so. Only the bit where she poured apple juice all over her car seat was problematic. And the bit where we lost her snack cup. And the bit where she threw her goldfish everywhere. Small bits, really; overall this has been uneventful.

We've an hour to go before departure from LAX for Brisbane, and she hasn't stopped moving yet. We're both hoping this presages a crash lasting most of the overnight flight so we can get some sleep.

So far I've managed not to snap at my Angel for anything, and he hasn't been too grumpy despite irregularly ordering coffee, and we're going to Brisbane and it's so surreal I can hardly stand it. I guess I lack the ability to comprehend anything but the 14 hours facing us now, let alone the rest of the trip.
We've claimed a conversational semicircle of chairs for our things. She is running in circles with infantile mania; explaining to us how to wear our in-flight neck pillows; looking out the window at the planes.

Lord, grant me strength...

I keep reflexively checking my hip for my pager and almost panicking when it's not there. It feels very strange to be away at last. For good, even.