They must often change, who would be constant in happiness or wisdom. ~Confucius

When you first find out you are about to become a new parent, every one is so quick to say things like, "Your life is really going to change" or "Parenthood really changes everything." And, anyone with half the sense that God gave a goose can get what that might mean - at least on the surface.

It's the changes to your fiber, your being, the changes to your life philosophy that you don't anticipate changing but does. Or maybe it was just us.

On our way back from our Spain Tour 2010. Jonathan and I checked in at the airport and were asked if we wanted to spend another night in Malaga...

At a 5 star hotel...

With transportation between airport and hotel...

With all our meals paid for...

Seats on a flight back to the US the following day...

AND

A $2,000 credit for use on Delta.

I was already salivating at 5 star hotel and all expenses paid. Afterall, we had an extra day before we had to return to work and we had not had much time alone in Spain. What could be better? Oh, yeah, $2000 for more plane tickets.

I quicky devised that we could return to Europe next year and potentially have credit left over for another trip. What's not to accept. How many times over the last few years had I so desperately wanted to volunteer my seat but had to be at work the next day or had some equally important issue????? Yet, this was not the case this time. In fact, this was the perfect set of circumstances.

We could have another day in Southern Spain!!!!!!

Then they give us the itinerary which involved a very short 1.5 hour connection through Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. One of the worst airports to get through (although better than JFK, if for no other reason than because when you are being told you missed your flight and there is not another until tomorrow, it sounds A LOT better in French. And, I understand the French accent better than I understand the New York accent.)

In my head, I am doing an incredible amount of calculating in a very short time that went something like this: If flight is on time, we still have to get baggage and get through customs, recheck bags-get to gate-there-is-no-way-we-will-make-it-if-the-flight-is-a-half-second-too-late-or-the-gate-is-at-thewrongendoftheaeropuerto.

Which is when Jonathan steps in and says, "If we miss the connection we won't get to see butterbean until Monday and then we leave again on Thursday.

In my head (again), I let out a veeeeerrry long stream of profanity with perfect alliteration (it was really almost artful) and said, "I'm sorry, we have to pass."

And so, we got on the plane. It took me until we were somewhere over the Atlantic, after the first lunch and some bad boxed wine to stop thinking about it and wondering if we had just made a huge, huge mistake. Who was I to have given up such an opportunity?

The next morning, when I picked up butterbean AKA the Notorious MRA, squeezed his chubby little hands and saw him toddle more than a few steps on his own for the first time, I was pretty sure we made the right decision.