Wednesday, June 07, 2006
It's not the destination, but the journey...
That sucked for Tessy's Mom. I just got back from my first trip to Europe. I'll write about that stuff in the coming weeks but the parental post must come first.
I boarded the plane and waited to find my seat. 34G on the isle, things where looking up. Scan for kids who look like they need a dose of NyQuil... I see Tessy. Tess didn't need a dose of NyQuil she was going to do just fine. Only Mom was with her. I've flown with 7and8 by myself a number of times and know that my tolerances would be enough to withstand this cute 2.5 year old. Maybe I should have looked deeper in her Mom's eyes to see if she needed a shot of the "Sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, how-the-hell-did-I-wake-up-on-the-kitchen-floor medicine"
Everyone around Tess and Mom was willing to help, but Mom had the air of 'I can do this and I appreciate your offer but I will be fine thank-you' She was a nice woman with a pleasantness that reflected in Tess' general demeanor. Tess was exploring her seat and surroundings and pushed the flight attendant call button. "Please don't play with the buttons, Tess." "But Daddy told me too." Remember, Dad isn't on the flight, he's waiting for his angels at home. Then Tess starts flicking the tray-table lever making it plunk down and jolting the crusty old farts in the row ahead. Tess started to get bored. Apparently one of her favorite pass-times is to hit her Mother when Mother tries to calm her down. And Mom just took it and only chided gently. I notice that Mom has a cough like I do, congested and snotty. Pretty rough sounding and in the chest. Plunk with the tray-table. I was thinking of pulling the Daddy card on Tess telling her she was not to treat her Mother that way but there is a fine line between helping and telling someone they aren't parenting to your standards. Plunk with the tray-table.
By hour 3 of the flight Tess was bouncing-off-of-the walls tired (Parents, you know what I'm talking about). Nothing destructive or bratty but rather very busy and extremely talkative. Plunk with the tray-table. Soon Tess was asleep and sleeping comfortably.
I think Tess would have slept 3 or 4 hours. Mom was coming back from the galley with a cup of coffee and accidentally spilled it on Tessy's face. There was screaming and ice and helpful flight attendants. And as coffee spills in the face go it was over pretty quick. Tess either has a high threshold for pain or the coffee had cooled considerably. Mom tried to change Tess' clothes and then we see Tess' claws. There was no way this child was going to get out of the wet clothes which she had picked out this morning. Now Mom is determined and doesn't take no for an answer. So they fought verbally and fought physically and Mom won. All is normal, until Tess gets the juice. Plunk with the tray-table, and the juice spills all over the seats. Mom is pretty exhausted now and just quietly cleans it up. Thank God in heaven that the juice didn't spill on the new clothes because someone was going to have to die in that fight.
30 minutes to go. Tess is now engaged in coloring and being an angel. Mom looks like Satan himself wiped his ass with her, tired, wrung-out and growing pale. She drinks from the water they brought on board to calm her cough. The plane starts the approach and Mom starts heaving into the air-sick bag. I'm pretty certain only Mom and I knew this was happening. Tess was busy and everyone else was tired of hearing from those two seats. And heaving, and heaving. I start looking for my air-sick bag because I sure hers is about full. I'm in full-on help Mommy mode now so I don't even think about puking. The plane lands and taxis Mom is looking better. I ask what I can do. She seems very relieved and says that she is fine now and that it's all easy from here on in. She says, "This hasn't been a very good flight." The teenage tarts sitting behind them wake up and turn off their ipods and tell Tessy that she has been a very good girl. Mom looks at them and considers throwing the vomit bag at them.
They weren't making a connecting flight, just driving 15min. to home and Daddy. I hope they had a restful night.
I boarded the plane and waited to find my seat. 34G on the isle, things where looking up. Scan for kids who look like they need a dose of NyQuil... I see Tessy. Tess didn't need a dose of NyQuil she was going to do just fine. Only Mom was with her. I've flown with 7and8 by myself a number of times and know that my tolerances would be enough to withstand this cute 2.5 year old. Maybe I should have looked deeper in her Mom's eyes to see if she needed a shot of the "Sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, how-the-hell-did-I-wake-up-on-the-kitchen-floor medicine"
Everyone around Tess and Mom was willing to help, but Mom had the air of 'I can do this and I appreciate your offer but I will be fine thank-you' She was a nice woman with a pleasantness that reflected in Tess' general demeanor. Tess was exploring her seat and surroundings and pushed the flight attendant call button. "Please don't play with the buttons, Tess." "But Daddy told me too." Remember, Dad isn't on the flight, he's waiting for his angels at home. Then Tess starts flicking the tray-table lever making it plunk down and jolting the crusty old farts in the row ahead. Tess started to get bored. Apparently one of her favorite pass-times is to hit her Mother when Mother tries to calm her down. And Mom just took it and only chided gently. I notice that Mom has a cough like I do, congested and snotty. Pretty rough sounding and in the chest. Plunk with the tray-table. I was thinking of pulling the Daddy card on Tess telling her she was not to treat her Mother that way but there is a fine line between helping and telling someone they aren't parenting to your standards. Plunk with the tray-table.
By hour 3 of the flight Tess was bouncing-off-of-the walls tired (Parents, you know what I'm talking about). Nothing destructive or bratty but rather very busy and extremely talkative. Plunk with the tray-table. Soon Tess was asleep and sleeping comfortably.
I think Tess would have slept 3 or 4 hours. Mom was coming back from the galley with a cup of coffee and accidentally spilled it on Tessy's face. There was screaming and ice and helpful flight attendants. And as coffee spills in the face go it was over pretty quick. Tess either has a high threshold for pain or the coffee had cooled considerably. Mom tried to change Tess' clothes and then we see Tess' claws. There was no way this child was going to get out of the wet clothes which she had picked out this morning. Now Mom is determined and doesn't take no for an answer. So they fought verbally and fought physically and Mom won. All is normal, until Tess gets the juice. Plunk with the tray-table, and the juice spills all over the seats. Mom is pretty exhausted now and just quietly cleans it up. Thank God in heaven that the juice didn't spill on the new clothes because someone was going to have to die in that fight.
30 minutes to go. Tess is now engaged in coloring and being an angel. Mom looks like Satan himself wiped his ass with her, tired, wrung-out and growing pale. She drinks from the water they brought on board to calm her cough. The plane starts the approach and Mom starts heaving into the air-sick bag. I'm pretty certain only Mom and I knew this was happening. Tess was busy and everyone else was tired of hearing from those two seats. And heaving, and heaving. I start looking for my air-sick bag because I sure hers is about full. I'm in full-on help Mommy mode now so I don't even think about puking. The plane lands and taxis Mom is looking better. I ask what I can do. She seems very relieved and says that she is fine now and that it's all easy from here on in. She says, "This hasn't been a very good flight." The teenage tarts sitting behind them wake up and turn off their ipods and tell Tessy that she has been a very good girl. Mom looks at them and considers throwing the vomit bag at them.
They weren't making a connecting flight, just driving 15min. to home and Daddy. I hope they had a restful night.
// posted by Bo @ 9:50 AM 
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]
