Ok, so I when I travelled back to the US “sans enfants” last month, I must say it was such a breeze. I mean the only thing I was carrying was my purse and a book. YES, a book that had more than fifty words in it.
I just couldn’t remember what it was like to leisurely walk into an airport, check-in, go through security, and go sit down for a Starbucks. If my girls would have been with me, I would have been dragging bags and strollers and kids and diapers – I could go on, but I am sure you get the picture.
Going through security is horrible in itself, but adding two children to the process turns it into a realistic version of a horror flick. You’ve seen those parents that look like they’ve been dragged through a warzone. Scenario: Waiting in the security line with two children, removing shoes, chasing children, collapsing said stroller, enduring the dirty looks from old people and business travelers, unearthing the baggies of medicines and hand sanitizer, chasing children again, and then trying to get both children packed back up on the other side to walk to the gate. It’s such a drag. I kind of felt a bit guilty drinking my latte as I watched all the moms and dads scurrying around after their little tikes, only to be chasing them again five minutes later. I’d been there many times before, and will be again soon – so my guilt evaporated quickly.
The boarding process was easy as pie too. No bags to worry about stowing, no one to get “situated”, no worry about sitting on the plane – delayed and wondering when one of the kids would erupt. I pulled out my book, my water, and my peanut M&M’s (which I didn’t have to share), and got as comfy as I could get.
During the flight I slept, ate my gross airplane meal, read, and watched a movie. I did have to deal with the jerk sitting behind me…he kept needling his knees in the back of my seat, and didn’t stop after I repeatedly glared at him through the narrow space between the seats. When I reached my final destination, I was tired, but I wasn’t exhausted. It was a treat to be travelling by myself. No kiddos, no husband, no friends – just me. Maybe “flying solo” once in a while ain’t so bad after all. In fact, I think we just might need it.