Monday, June 6, 2011

Blue skies and blue hair.

In two days, we are flying back to visit our family and friends in Colorado.  And by "we", I mean "me and the girls".  Needless to say, I am having a bit of anxiety about our pending travels - I have never flown alone, and I have never flown alone with three children four and under, one of whom will be sitting snuggly on my lap.  This is where all the childless travelers roll their eyes and think to themselves "if I have to sit by a crying baby for a four hour flight or if any of those kids kick my seat, I'm going to lose it!", and simultaneously, all the parents are thinking "I hope they serve drinks in coach."  Well, no, they don't serve drinks in coach, and I'm not so bad a parent that I'd travel inebriated just to ease the stress of hauling Cinderella backpacks and hoping I remembered to charge the portable DVD player before we left.  However, I have to say to the childless travelers, I'm with ya.  If I have to sit with a crying baby for a four hour flight or if any of those kids kick the seat, I'm going to lose it - I've already had at least three nightmares about forgetting juice boxes and my kids taking names because of it ("No, please don't open the emergency hatch!  I'll find you some juice!  Please!").  I really don't want to end up being THAT LADY on the plane with the kids out of control - and I know for a fact I've seen THAT LADY before, and while now I totally feel bad for her, at the time it was like "come on, just give it a cookie and make it be quiet".  I understand that not everyone thinks my kids are as adorable and brilliant and hilarious as I do, so in general, I try to encourage quiet knock knock jokes and hand dances rather than full on costumed numbers in aisle 7.  The miracle is that as a result, despite their screaming bloody throw-downs at home, my girls have started to notice that old people like well behaved kids in public, and so now they feed off of "what sweet girls you are, are these your sisters?" from old ladies, and so wherever we go, it's like they scan the premises, lock on the blue hairs, and emanate angelic-ness in hopes of someone coming over to gush over their fancy outfits and big blue eyes.  So, in hopes of avoiding any meltdowns or babies stuck under seats like the trip to Mexico of 2008 (now that was a long flight), I have decided to just pray my heart out that our flight happens to be filled with a retirement community trip from Florida to visit Black Hawk.  Yes,  please fill every seat with a geriatric angel who has either lost enough hearing that they won't notice any bottom-of-the-raisin-box screaming, or someone who misses their own grandchildren so much that even kicking children are adorable since they have bows in their hair. And please let my children notice all the silvery waves across the aisles so that they in turn may put on their best "This is my sister, and we're holding hands" show.   As for the drinks, a Coke will do.

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