Flying with an infant can be dicey, especially during the holidays. Is he hungry? is his diaper dirty? Are his ears hurting on take off and landing? But despite a five hour delay in New York it all went rather smoothly. Wyatt slept through it all, making us new parents look like rock stars. It doesn't hurt that we live on the noisy Lower East Side of Manhattan, where the nightly rumblings of trash trucks, drunken revelers, who traveled through bridges and tunnels, and shrieking car alarms are the components of his urban lullaby.
So the Philpott family took a trip to St. Louis so Wyatt could meet his cousins. He met a whole mess of them at the annual Christmas Eve party at Cousin Cathy's, where he was passed around like a hot potato. We would only catch glimpses of him in the arms of various relations as they sped from room to room.
On Christmas day we visited the Old St. Louis Cathedral under the Arch. It is a cute Georgian church where the first radio broadcast of a Catholic Mass was produced in the ENTIRE world. We know this because the priest pointed it out in his homily.
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