My mom arrives for a three-week visit tomorrow.  Mom hates to fly.  Two things have gotten her on an airplane in the past five years: her childrens' weddings and the birth of her first grandchild.  Even then, she'd have preferred to take the train.  Two things are drawing her here: one, an art museum with unrivalled priceless collections; and two, the prospect of getting a glimpse of her future grandchild at Wednesday's ultrasound.  Well, there's also the fact that I asked her to come and hold my hand as we prepare for packing out in a few weeks.  Six months pregnant and planning for a transAtlantic move?  Hell yes, I want my mommy!