Remember when we used to keep it real around here and I would do terrible things like post pictures of myself with no make-up on?(That used to seem terrible, it seems like normal now!)
I’m doing that again. Because we all need a healthy dose of “your normal” in this cloud, “You guys are amazing and your family is beautiful, and Uganda is a paradise.” Before things start looking too rosy around here please allow me to share with you the truth about what flying with three kids three and under halfway around the world really looks like:
– “Ava, I will give you chocolate in the morning if you will just stay buckled in, lay down, keep your headphones on (or earrings as Ava calls them), and watch Dora.”
– We celebrated leaving Houston by getting Papasidos and then celebrated again because it made the babies poop before we got on the plane. It’s the little things y’all.
-I sat on the bulkhead row with Lily and Jane next to a mom traveling alone with her fourteen month old son. I spent the first hour feeling guilty, desperate, lackluster because she spent the entire time reading to her son in several languages, feeding him fresh organic food, and playing with his hair while he sat completely still and quiet.
-I spent the next six hours comforting myself by telling myself that if I only had one kid and we only had to go to London, I would have done that too.
-I spent the last hour and half coming to terms with the fact that I couldn’t that kind of mom and I don’t have those kinds of kids.
– “Now I’ll give you gum if you will just sit still for the last fifteen minutes and not whine.”
-“Please don’t lick strangers, they won’t want to sit by us.”
-“Actually, that’s a good point. Go for it.”
-Listen peeps, I wish I had a picture of the looks on the flight attendants faces after what they heard go on in the tiny bathroom after trying to change a two year olds poopy diaper and get her jammies on. It was priceless. Also after you do that a couple of times, you stop even bother to apologetically explain the hysteria. Whateves man, she is about to go to sleep, and I’m about to watch Divergent.
So there it is. Well, there it partially is. Even when your kids are good travelers, parenting looks messy in the bulkhead for 17 hours. You deal, you let go of guilt, and then you treat yourself to a nice cold glass of passion fruit juice and take a nap.
We’ll chat again when I wake up.