Happy St. Patrick’s Day

As far as I know, neither Andreas nor I have Irish roots but we cannot deny our indisputable fascination with the country. Our family has yet to visit the Emerald Isle but given the chance, we would be on a plane headed over the Atlantic in a heartbeat. Is there any sound more lovely than the lilting melody of an Irish accent? Oh, to spend the day traipsing around crumbling castle ruins and soaking up the breathtaking beauty of a lush, green, countryside or craggy, windblown coast. And truthfully, a good part of our fascination probably centers around the music. On road trips, we spend hours blasting this song on repeat and when Alistair is in his jolly jumper, there’s nothing like some good Irish music to get him bouncing. My research on an Ireland trip has officially commenced. Now if only our bank account would agree with my plans…

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Fly with me, Baby

I love traveling. There’s such a thrill involved in the discovery and exploration of somewhere new. But more than just the final destination, I love the process of getting there. I love being propelled upwards through a ceiling of grey clouds to skim along the rays of brilliant sunshine. I like sitting thousands of feet in the air, jostled by turbulence, watching the world pass by below. Hmm… maybe I should get my pilots license, or something?

But add a baby to that combination and the magic of flight fades a little. When a screaming baby drowns out the rush of the engine, you start counting down the seconds until the plane touches down and that seat belt light switches off.

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