Strongest memory of our last trip, dated on the very first day (28 Jan).

I buckle up little Tuur in the airplane, ready for our first flight. It's a smaller plain for the relatively short flight into Munich; from there we'll catch the long haul to Capetown. Little Tuur is quite excited, stretching himself to get a glimpse of a wingtip through the small window. He's quite sure INSIDE one of those planes he has seen flying over the house: tiny white arrows in the blue sky trailed by a long white line. The question pop's up very naturaly:
    "Daddy, are they now going to shrink us?"
There is no fear, just scientific interest and honest expectations. Probably the only satisfying explanation I could give just pops up out of nowhere:
    "Nope, when you are inside the plane, then it's the rest of the world they shrink. As soon as we fly you'll see."

Perception is reality.

Having kids is utterly great. Although you never quite 'get' them.

Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you, but not from you. And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love, but not your thoughts. For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies, but not their souls. For their souls dwell in the house of to-morrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness. For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
--Kahlil Gibran