Stream of consciousness at tens of thousands of feet

by Decemberbaby

By the time this post makes it to the internet, our flight will be history… but given easy access to my laptop, I can’t resist making some pithy observations.

At the airport we were those people – yeah, the ones with three overweight suitcases, frantically shuffling things back and forth and finally deciding to pay the extra baggage charge instead of the overweight charge ($22 instead of $56). And our three-year-old was standing in everyone’s way, especially ours. Check-in took us twenty-five minutes. So yeah, if you were in line behind us… sorry about the wait.

Oh. My. Gourd. We have two hours left in this pressurized metal tube. K has already soaked her way through her clothes and her carseat – both from the inside and from the outside. So we’re down to half an outfit for her if she spills again. And N just finally fell asleep in the moby wrap, and K refused to eat the bento lunch I packed after my mum accidentally gave her the wrong container – the one with the extra “in case of emergency” crackers and grapes. No toddler would willingly trade grapes and crackers for chicken, couscous, mashpo and kiwi, right? Sigh.

Where was I? Oh, yes. We checked in. And then we headed to the gate, where they waved us over to the “priority” line for people with kids. Priority it may be, but fast it’s not. How can it be, when everyone has to unbuckle the stroller and/or carseat, fold the thing, remind the three-year-old that we only go forward in this line, not backwards!, lift the stroller onto the conveyer belt, get everyone’s bags on, call one of the bags back to take out the boarding passes, send the preschooler through the metal detector, walk through with the baby, explain what the “gel” in your bag is (in case its situation in the babyfood container wasn’t enough of a clue), realize (belatedly) that your computer is in there, take it out, send the bag through (again…), unfold the stroller, put the baby back in, collect everyone, chase the preschooler down with admonishments to stay close to mummy!, and finally, FINALLY stop blocking up the aisle while wondering idly whether you re-packed the charger for your laptop.

Speaking of charging laptops, mine has been on for the last 2 hours. K watched half of a movie about environmentally fanatical penguins, my mom watched some DVD special features, and I’ve had the thing on, typing away, for the last little while. My battery is still at 70%. I love my new computer.

I want to sleep. Please, can I sleep?

(added later: no, I did not get to sleep. I’m still exhausted, three days later. One of these days I’ll learn to stop reading novels and go to bed when the kids do.)

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One Comment to “Stream of consciousness at tens of thousands of feet”

  1. I haven’t learned that yet either – but it is so nice to enjoy that “me” time…even if I regret it the next day. I always ask myself: Would I rather be physically tired or mentally exhausted? Cause that bit of time to myself recharges me in ways that 20 more minutes of sleep can’t.

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