The big trip

Tomorrow, I have a test.  The very first one for my Food Science class.  I’ve been studying, making notes, and trying to ingrain all the stuff we’ve learned so far into my brain.  I also have a group assignment due for my Quantitative Thinking class, which is my online, “external” class.  In the internal version, the groups meet up and work out the math problems together.  They even have to take minutes during their meetings and submit them with the assignment.  But online?  We can’t do that.  We don’t live near each other, or have any sort of face to face contact.  There are 5 people, including myself, in the group.  Only one other person has bothered to check the group discussion board to get the ball rolling on the project which is due next week.

5 days ago, I wrote on the board that we should divide up the work, then put it on the collaborative file, check each others work, and then turn it in.  We have to turn it in as one.  We are supposed to have a group manager who takes on the turning in and filling out the cover sheet jobs.  The other girl wanted to get started but didn’t want to be manager or be responsible for dividing up the work, so I took charge, divided it all up, and am now crossing my fingers that the other three will actually do their work.  I would be manager, but I’m going to the U.S. on Friday. By myself.

Yes, BY MYSELF.  As in no kids.  No Aaron.  All by myself.  Aaron will be at home doing Daddy daycare whilst I fly to Minnesota for my cousin (who’s more like my sister) Jennifer’s wedding.  Can you feel my excitement as you read this?  Did I mention I’m going by myself?  Don’t get me wrong, I love my family more than words can convey, and I’ll miss the like crazy, but I’ll be able to go to the bathroom with the door shut and no one will bang on the door and scream because they want to be where I am.  Who am I kidding, I don’t even shut the door anymore, it’s just easier to leave it hanging open so the kids can come in while I do my business.

I can drink a cup of tea without having to put it up high in between sips so curious hands don’t burn themselves.  I can go to the shops without having to constantly tell anyone to stop running off, stop touching everything, stop jumping in the cart, stop trying to jump out of the cart, stop throwing things, stop sitting on the groceries, etc. etc., followed by tantrums on the supermarket floor with everyone looking at me.  I don’t have to worry about mountains of laundry and dishes, toys everywhere, poopy nappies, or overnight wake ups due to teething or a blocked nose for 11 whole days (including the flights).

I had grand plans of finally finishing the book series I’ve been reading for the past two years, but never get time to sit down and read, watching movies on my iPad or the screen on the back of the seat in front of me, or even catching up on sleep during the plane ride.  Instead, I’m going to write my orange juice report for food science. Maybe I can do all the leisurely things on the way back.

So if I don’t write for a while, it’s because I have a test, an assignment, an international flight, and then bridesmaid duties.

And all the while, I’ll be missing Aaron and the kids like crazy.

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Copyright 2013 Sheri Thomson

The lost day

NYE, 2000.  I was all alone, in a hotel room in Canada at the age of 17.  My parents had driven me there the day before, stayed the night and then left on New Years Eve.  I think I went to sleep at about 9:30.  I’ve never been a late night person.  In the morning, I got my breakfast at the hotel, made sure I had everything in my giant suitcase, nothing left behind, checked out, and got the shuttle bus to the airport in Vancouver.  Check out was at 10.  My flight wasn’t until 8pm.  Sigh.  At least I had a good book.  Ok, I don’t really remember, but I must have, other wise I would have gone crazy waiting that long in an airport with no one to talk to, and I don’t remember having a terrible time, so deductive reasoning tells me I must have had a good book.

Finally people besides myself started to arrive at the departure gate.  Seems my flight was full.  A girl nearby spilled her coffee all over herself and the floor.  “Can you watch my stuff while I go get some napkins?”  She asked me.  Maybe I looked like a nice person or something because I wasn’t the nearest person to her.  The thought that she could be doing something sinister or have something sinister in her bags didn’t cross my mind.  I was 17 and naive.  She finally came back with some napkins.  The flight was already boarding and I was starting to think I might have to ditch my post and get on.  I rushed to get on the plane as soon as she got back.  Turns out she had the seat right next to me on the flight and we got along great.  It was good to have a travel buddy when the total travel time was 25 hours, with a stop in Honolulu, Rarotonga, Auckland, and finally on to Sydney.  I guess you get what you pay for.  This crazy long flight with Canada 3000 (now defunct) was something ridiculous like $400 return including tax.

Sure it was a big trip for a 17 year old all by herself, but I’ve been flying by myself since I was 9.  I used to fly from Washington to Minnesota in the summer to see my cousin/best friend Jennifer.  I didn’t like anything they served on the plane.  I used to be so picky.  I didn’t think to bring any snacks.  I figured if I didn’t like what they had on the plane I could buy something at one of the numerous airports we stopped at.  Good theory, not so good in practice.  When we got to Hawaii, it was the middle of the night and none of the shops were open.  Not to mention we weren’t actually allowed in the airport, only a little transit lounge.  Rarotonga (Cook Islands) was a tiny little airport that consisted of one little open air building and a moveable staircase to get you on and off the plane.  No food stores in sight.  I tried to buy the only thing resembling food I could find, a bag of chips, but they didn’t take US dollars, Canadian dollars, or credit/debit/eftpos cards.  Only whatever currency that they use, which I didn’t have any of and they didn’t have any money exchange.

I can’t remember why I couldn’t get any food in New Zealand, but I couldn’t.  Finally I arrived in Sydney, to an excited Lauren and my new Exchange family.  I smelled like B.O. I was greasy, and I was wearing way too many clothes for the summer weather.  Oh, and I really needed to eat.  I left on 1 Jan and arrived on 3 Jan.  I missed an entire day with all the different timezones, but it didn’t matter because now, I  was officially an exchange student.

I saw a McDonald’s and got really excited.  Finally I could eat!  I don’t know what my host family first thought of me when I arrived, after not having a shower and travelling for 2 days, but they were (still are) awesome.

10 years later (tomorrow to be exact), I am still here.  Happy  Decade to me!  Now I just have to get my citizenship.  I can’t really put it off much longer, my visa runs out next month.  Well, not my whole visa, I can remain in Australia indefinitely, I just can’t leave and come back.

Gold Coast – Part 4: Use the lounge

I’m so glad I noticed the little ad for the Jetstar lounge on my e-ticket.  We were so tired from the events of the previous evening.  Not to mention Hannah woke up at 2am screaming for water.  I gave her a cup full of water which she ravenously gulped down in less than a minute (complete with slurping sounds).  We were not in the mood, nor did we have the energy to be chasing Hannah all around a crowded airport.   Plus, I didn’t want to have to carry her around everywhere as I had already carried her 1.2 kms (with one arm, while pushing the pram with the other) from McDonald’s to our accommodation because she was crying in the pram and I felt bad because she was sick.

Hannah in the kids area of the Jetstar lounge

Honestly, I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want to go to the Jetstar lounge at the Coolangatta (Gold Coast) airport.  It’s not one that you need to be a member of, you don’t have to fly in business class to get in, they have a kids area, food is included in the price, there is wi-fi, showers if you want one, tv, etc.  And, it’s only $15 each (kids under 12 free).  When you compare that to buying a meal each from one of the airport fast food places, it doesn’t seem too bad.  You’d pay at least $10 for some crappy fast food meal, and you don’t get the nice lounges to sit on, nor can you go back for seconds, thirds, or even, if you’re particularly hungry, fourths.  There was sushi, pasta, wraps, bread rolls with fillings to put on if you want, desert, pancakes (made by a really cool machine at the touch of a button), coffee, tea, hot chocolate, beer and/or wine, crackers, and fruit.  What’s not to like??

Hannah asleep on the plane

Another angle of the uncomfortable airplane sleep

Asleep on the train

Poor Hannah was not herself that day.  She fell asleep on the plane with her bum on me, and her head held up by Aaron’s hand, body over the arm rest.  It looked so incredibly uncomfortable!!!

She fell asleep on me on the train, and then nearly fell asleep on the bus too.

That night, Hannah got a fever of 39.3 celsius. I freaked out a little and called the after hours doctor (the hospital said to come back if she started vomiting again, or if she got a fever), who came remarkably fast.  He checked her chest and ears and all of that, said she’d be fine, she had a virus, and told me to give her electrolyte pops the next day.

She was super clingy and lacked energy for a few days, but then she bounced back to her old happy, cheeky, rambunctious self.

Gold Coast – Part 1: Buy a leash

Hannah and Mommy. See how useless the baby seat belt is? She can turn around in it....

Hannah and her dolly on the plane

Note to self: Do not check in for a flight and go through security with a toddler all by yourself.

Who knew it would be so hard?  Not me.  I thought Hannah would just sit in the pram, giggle at people, squeal at people, and of course, get every single person around hers attention.  But no, that was not to be.  She wouldn’t let me even put her in the pram.  Instead, she made like a wet, slippery, floppy, flailing wiggle worm, rendering my buckle her into the pram efforts useless.  Of course it wouldn’t be so easy.

Sometimes you see a child running wild and you just think “why doesn’t that parent do something?” or “that child needs a leash.”  Well, Hannah is that child, and I am that mom.  We can’t help it really.  She is full of energy, curious about everything, and super smart.  She isn’t content just sitting in the pram all day, looking at things.  She wants to be in the midst of everything.  She wants to run around and inspect everything, and I want to let her.  But not while in line to check in for a flight.  Our check in line went a bit like this: Hannah ducks under the rope and takes off.  I run after her, pick her up, and deposit her next to the pram.  She helps me move the pram forward in line.  Repeat process.  Add stares from everyone around us, probably with thoughts of “Oh my goodness, WHY doesn’t that silly mum just put her in the pram??” or “how embarrassing, I’m glad I’m not her.”

We had to check the pram in at the oversized luggage counter, complete with on the spot x-ray.  Hannah was very interested in the x-ray machine and cheekily ran to the other side and pushed the start button.  Then she ran off.  I know you’re not supposed to leave luggage unattended, but that’s kind of hard when you have a freakishly fast 1 year old who likes to run off on your hands.  Start folding pram.  Run after Hannah.  Continue folding pram.  Run after Hannah.  Put pram on x-ray conveyor belt, run after Hannah.  I didn’t know being at the airport was such a workout.

Getting through security was even harder.  Have you ever tried to put backpacks, bags, watches, etc. off and on while trying to keep a toddler from running away?  Put bag in plastic tub on conveyor belt.  Run after Hannah.  Dodge annoyed stares from everyone in the line behind you.  Put next item in tub.  Run after Hannah.  Dodge stares, don’t make eye contact.  Repeat.  Go through metal detector.  Repeat whole process but putting everything back on this time.

Try to hold a noodley, wiggley, child at the same time while you have a backpack on your back, a camera bag on one shoulder, a nappy bag on the other, a sippy cup in one hand, and Hannah’s purse in the other.  Oh no, which gate was I going to?  I went in search of the info board carrying noodley wiggle worm.  I found it.  Hannah wiggled free.  I knelt down, put my arm around her and looked at the board.  Hannah didn’t want to stay stationary, so she put herself face down on the floor and started crying.  Darn it.  Everyone was staring.  Why was there a child crying face down on the floor while her mother was kneeling down, loaded with bags, hand on child, looking at the info screen?  Ignore everyone, grab child, go straight to parents room, let her run free.  Let out sigh of relief.  Wait for Aaron (who was coming straight from work).

I was never sure about those child leashes, but now, I really think they have their place.  Like airports for example.  That would have solved a lot.