Trip 2 to the Consulate

We've got a little boy that's army-style mobile, and is about to become even more so. He's up on all-fours, into everything, almost-crawling man, big-kid style. He rolls off the big bed, the couch, and flips out of his Bumbo. Basically, he's smarter (and quicker) than us. He has little birdie legs and big Hobbit feet. His patchy, black-brown hair is well past his ears, and his Papa is contemplating a haircut. He loves to talk and give kisses. He's an attention-seeker, a people-pleaser, a heartthrob.

And there's a little girl that sings all the live-long day. She's sugar and spice and everything nice. She smiles at everything and everyone, and we're not sure she can cry. Her head of hair is thick and beautiful. It's dark and golden, but when she's in the sun it's fiery red. We're eagerly waiting to see what it does with time. She rolls and scoots everywhere, her favorite taste is her toes, though avocados are becoming neck-and-neck. She loves naps, she loves playtime. She is a little darling.

With a little hesitation and little options, we hauled them to Edinburgh via train yesterday for our second trip to the Consulate. 3 cabs, 2 train rides, miles upon miles walked, nearly 2 hours at the Consulate General, and I declare,

they are troopers!

Not a scream, hardly a cry, just baby giggles and flirty smiles all the way. My husband now feels it is safe to say they are easy to travel with. Praise the Lord they're adaptable, flexible, easy-going. Not a missed feed, not a skipped nap. They're chill, go-with-the-flow children.

And now, for that transatlantic flight. Our confidence has been boosted.