A frankly shit parenting experience
Buckle in, we're in for a bumpy ride
Last Thursday, I flew to the UK on my own with my three-year-old son. Regular readers of this newsletter will be familiar with what a feat that would have been in and of itself, given his sensitivity and emotional challenges that have punctuated our parenting lives thus far. But I figured we could handle it. My husband couldn't travel with us because of a work commitment; he would fly later that night. Off we set: suitcases, buggy, backpacks and child in tow. We were flying to Leeds, and the flight time from Dublin was only 40 minutes. As soon as you're up, you're down again. Halfway to the airport, I realised we had left one backpack at home. His backpack was full of carefully chosen treasures to make his travel experience easier: sticker books, snacks, the works. There was no moving without this; I'd seen this scenario play out a million times before, so we turned back around. Thankfully, we had given ourselves plenty of time. Whoopsie, silly mammy, off we go again. We get through security - at this point, he's getting antsy from the crowds and the noise - and we're on what feels like the 10k journey to the Ryanair gate. He says he's thirsty. I realise his drink - the only drink that would do - is back at security. They'd put it in a separate basket for scanning, so eager to move him beyond the security check's sensory overload, I rushed off without it. Back we go. Whoopsie, silly mammy, off we go again. On the travelators - thank God for the one thing that makes the airport fun for kids - a bag falls off the buggy's seat, spilling the food we'd bought all over the moving floor. Caelan panics. I scramble to pick everything up before the travelator ends, and a pile-on of those behind us ensues. Think Sandra Bullock in Speed. All is well - minus the sweat patches forming on my t-shirt. Whoopsie, silly mammy, off we go again.
At the gate, I breathe a sigh of relief. We're here now. That's three cock-ups out of the way (all of them my fault, to be fair). Surely, that's our bad luck over and done with. We deal with the usual impatience of waiting for the plane to arrive, for everyone else to get off, for the queue to move, for us to be let out the door and onto the plane. He will fully expire if he doesn't get on this plane soon. Thankfully a very kind man offers to carry the buggy for me because I literally cannot carry everything and my son up those rickety airport steps. He says it's been a long time since his kids were that age, but he remembers how tricky it can be to travel with little ones. Yes! Yes, it is! I agree. Things are looking up; people are decent.
NOT. SO. FAST.