Lucky number 5

While enjoying the Bolton precipitation, a new pram arrived. I think that I mentioned that Qantas wrecked my old one (a big thank you for the travel voucher that they sent to cover the cost, however). Nanna Keefe purchased a beautiful Silver Cross to replace it, but there was no chance that would make it around the world or fit in the boot of our 4x4. Yes, it was big. So, in a moment of weakness, Alice's father agreed to another pram purchase to take us across the US, to Bondi Junction and beyond.

The Bugaboo Bee turned up, we were suckered into buying more accessories and we were ready to go. It managed one or two trial walks around Ladybridge between thunderstorms (much to Grannie Al's consternation) and just about held up to the pavements. We'll need to keep the three wheeler in order to stride the streets of Clovelly. The most important factor in this choice of pram was a travel case to keep it safe. It even has "fragile" printed on it, which was a real winner for this easily persuaded young(-ish) mother.

Alice is very comfortable in my (sorry, her) new pram. We arrived in Washington after the flight from hell and she screamed until she was placed in it, whereupon she calmed down completely. Poor little jetlagged baby. We weren't helped by British Airways supplying only one bassinette to the whole plane, leaving us with a rocking chair. When placed on the bassinette shelf, this meant that Alice could see the whole plane and had no interest in sleeping. She didn't have much interest in being quiet or smiling either, however; her usual charm deserting her. On top of all that, we had a turbulent flight and each time she fell asleep, there would be a couple of bumps, the seatbelt sign would go on and she would need to be picked up. This culminated in her sleeping 1.5 hours out of 8.5, hence the extremely grumpy baby on arrival. She did cheer up when her father arrived, seeming blissfully unaware of his hangover and slight aroma of Damian's personal bottle of Grand Marnier from his Baltimore "club".

The next morning we were all up early - jet lag/ babies/ hunger/ a prod in the ribs to take Alice to the nearest Starbucks pronto will do that for you. Once Mummy had had her mocha, we were ready to see the sights. Mingling with the commuters, we strode forth to the White House, Alice napping in the Bee and missing the action.

She woke up to rehydrate at the Lincoln Memorial (temperature was in the high 30s) ...

...and then napped again at the Capitol later on

We felt bad that she was missing all the sights, so took her on a boat ride so that she could appreciate them more. Although she spent most of this playing with two children from Tennessee, she seemed to like it.

After a busy couple of days, filled with naps and West Wing quotes, and with the threat of rain from the end of Hurricane Fay heading up the East Coast, we packed up the Bugaboo and jetted off to San Diego. This flight was better. A baby behind us screamed the whole way so Alice looked angelic by comparison. The mother was too busy quietening her dog so by the end of the flight we looked more like the Waltons than the Simpsons and were delighted to come off unscathed into the welcoming sun of San Diego.

The only cloud on the horizon was the need to deal with the great unwashed of eBay on return to sell my misguided pram 3 purchase, still hidden behind the sideboard at home. Intended for travel, despite folding up to the size of a laptop, it wasn't going to facilitate any napping, which is an essential part of any mother's holiday. So here's to pram 5. Long may she sleep in her.