Travelling with(out) Kids

I am SO relieved to have done the last 30+ hours on my own and without the burden of children.

(This can now also be called the Bad Mom Blog).

As I made no less than three (all delayed) flights to my final destination, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the babies in arms, toddlers and little children tied to their mothers (and some to their mother's luggage). With a 9 hour stopover in Dubai where I happened at one point to find myself neatly wedged between two very gay Philipino lovers and a Kashmiri with VERY bad personal hygiene, I was so relieved that I didn't have the extra stress of little people.

Now don't get me wrong, I would give my favourite, er, camel (?) to have my brood neatly tucked under my wings in the land of sand, but the actual getting here part, well, we may have to wait for a sandstorm resistant laser beam to transport them here in a nano-second of Business-Class comfort (in-flight entertainment included).

The boredom of little children at the airports going round and round in rectangular squircles on the passenger conveyer belts to pass the time, was tragic to witness. Their parents with dark rings under their eyes trying to maintain some semblance of sanity on a maximum of 2 hours sleep in a cramped economy class seat.
I tried to help out one desperate mother who's unruly two year-old was having a world class tantrum 4km above the earth's surface. Admittedly he had been pulling my hair each time he flung his arms over the head-rest (mine) of the seat in front of him, so it was becoming a little difficult ignoring the pesky little greek. I drew faces on my fingers and played out a very amateurish finger puppet show behind my head to entertain the tyke. It worked for a bit, until I had to magically invent easter eggs for the Easter Bunny to find in my now matted hair, and my left wrist cramped and the show was called to a sudden halt. Alexander, the not-so-great, took to kicking the tray in front of him, and behind me. Even though I was developing a real pain in my neck with all the kicking, I was somewhat relieved that it wasn't a child of mine that was in need of 8 hours of entertainment.

So I find myself child-free in a giant sandpit. Torn between the guilt of leaving my darling little family and the joy of revisiting a time and place that was truly significant in the development of my family and creating new memories with dear friends.

Let's see how long this sand-castle princess can keep her pose...