Nanny Diaries

Chapter 37 - Frozen

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to take off. Please fasten your seat belts. All crew must be seated until further notice. Have a great flight.” 

The overhead system switches off and I fidget in my seat, already uncomfortable. 

Stupid plane rides. It hasn’t even started, and the next three hours are already shaping up to be the worst of my life. 

A kid behind me is using my seat as a pogo stick. 

I grit my teeth, trying to swallow my annoyance and just relax. I don’t think I’ll survive three and a half hours if I don’t calm down. 

“Hey, baby girl.” 

Charlie is in her seat next to me, looking up at me with her big blue eyes. I feel a pang as it strikes me how much she looks like her father. It’s almost like he’s here right now. 

I bite my lip, unbuckling her straps and hoisting her into my arms. The feel of her little body close to mine is the best feeling in the world. She closes her eyes, and I kiss her on the forehead, my head hitting the headrest as the plane lifts off the ground. 

“Ow.” I groan, rubbing my neck. 

Charlie lets out a wail, causing everyone on the plane to groan. She wriggles in my arms, her high pitched sadness increasing in volume. 

“Shh, shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. It’s alright.”

She only cries harder, arching her back and waving her tiny fist in the air. 

“Oh boy.” I whisper sigh, reaching over and grabbing her bottle from the diaper bag. I squeeze a drop onto my wrist, testing the temperature to make sure it’s not too hot for her. 

I do nurse her, because I know that bottle feeding is not the best option, but I’d rather not do the other option right here in the middle of a plane. 

It’s been four days since Charlie was born. She’s such a miracle. 

But definitely a miracle that doesn’t sleep very much. 

She was down probably about three hours at the most last night. 

And I slept five minutes, because I had to finish packing and getting ready to get out of New York. I passed out while feeding Charlie at one in the morning. 

I woke up to a very painful reminder that I was a mother. 

Her mouth may be toothless. 

Doesn’t mean it’s not full of hurt, anyway. 

I shake myself out of my trance when she starts crying again, fed up with the bottle. Apparently, it’s not good enough. 

I should’ve known. 

I drape a burp cloth over my shoulder and carefully pick her up, placing her against my chest and patting her back rhythmically, softly, almost hypnotically, lulling me into a state of exhaustion and near unconsciousness. 

A minuscule burp sounds near my ear and my eyes snap open, a smile quivering on my lips as I cradle her head and set her down in her seat again. 

And the minute I do, she starts bawling. 

“For the love of God, will you shut that baby up?!”

My mouth drops open in indignation as I reach for her one more and pat her bottom, bouncing her in my arms and shooting the jerk wad a death glare. 

“Give it a pacifier!” he grumbles, turning in his seat and giving me a glimpse of what I think must be the first human Oscar the Grouch ever.