Papa hoot (PH) can home last tuesday after two weeks away. Excitement was an understatement.
Tornado had been really looking forward to ‘daddy wake me up!’. She had been counting down the days on a little calendar I made that both her and PH had. In the morning she would put a star on her calendar with me, and in the evenings PH would ask her what colour to put on his.
Tornado somewhat understands what’s going on. We’ve had a melt down or two, but it’s mostly because she’s tired, or we haven’t explained it clearly to her. She’s excited about talking to daddy on the ‘pewter’ and she loves to send him videos during the day. I’m not expecting this to be the case for the next swing, but I’m grateful for the gorgeous girl she has been these last two weeks.
The thing is, PH came home early (two week swing, not the usual four week swing) because I had to fly out to Melbourne. So as luck had it, he flew in at 8.20pm and I had to fly out the following morning at 1.45am. Unlike ships passing inter night, we got to spend a romantic two and a half hours together (allowing for him to get home, thank the babysitter and finally get some sleep after a 4.00am start to his day).
Honestly, it felt like five minutes. When the person you are most desperate to see is only around for a small window you never feel like you said the important things, or made the most of your time. Similar to any two mums with small children catching up. Except instead of being distracted by tiny humans and half finishing conversations, you discuss the important stuff, the child care hand over and argue about who’s turn it is to make a decision.
The hardest part was saying goodbye after such a short amount of time. But I was crazy excited about my little adventure (I had never been to Melbourne, never met the person I was going to stay with and I was taking a massive leap of faith for a new business opportunity. But more about that some other time).
So at 11.30 I was at the Airport eagerly awaiting my red eye flight to Melbourne. I checked in, trotted up stairs and ordered myself a big girl drink to celebrate my independence. After my drink I sat down to read my book before boarding. Just as I got comfortable, 45 mins before my flight was due to leave – it was cancelled.
My house is 1 hour and 20 mins from the Airport. This was not ideal. I was however, fairly grateful for my big girl drink which kept me buzzing while I waited to find out the fate of my Melbourne trip. I’m forever a ‘if its meant to be…’ kind of girl, but Airports and flights are not something that instils patience in people.
Turns out they could put me on another flight (YAY) at 6.10am (oh wait-what?). PH had just got home and there was no point getting a million dollar taxi ride home to get an hours sleep. So super comfy airport tiles it was. And not even the departure lounge, check in tiles! Because the Airport is basically shut from 2am – 4am.
What does a SAHM do with all this spare time, hanging out at an airport? She downloads some One direction, Demi Lovato and Macklemore and practices her dance moves. Kid you not, I lugged my carry on luggage back and forth as I shimmied and two stepped to the toilet. I also cranked out a fair bit of dubsmash videos and I read every blog I could possibly find. I am eternally thankful for smart phones? What did people do in Airports before there were smart phones? I shudder to think!
I finally get some shut eye at about 3 am. I snuggled up to the ATM (We’re going steady now). When I woke up BOOM! People everywhere. Dear airport people, I apologise for the drool, snoring and most probably farting while I was past out and I hope no one needed that ATM. When get up to the departure lounge and its like a freaking party! Where the hell did everyone come from? I’m still wiping crusty drool from my mouth and there are women all glammed up for their early morning flight!
I finally get on the plane (thank you spaghetti gods). The man next to me is reading a newspaper! A GIANT FREAKING NEWSPAPER. He is 100% over estimating his available space in this situation. Not matter how much I sign and eye roll he does not get the point. He has also laid claim to the arm rest (I’m in the aisle seat). And should I get anywhere near it, his position strengthens (Dude, come on. Its not freaking game of thrones. And if it was, you should be worried about me, I’m a new effing character!). I finally get comfortable and plan to get as much sleep as I can. 20 mins of blissful sleep and I get rudely woken up. The man next to me hits my knee! HE HIT MY KNEE! He’s shoved it away from HIS side! Are you for reals old man? Don’t judge a book by its cover, because if you open up this can of worms you are SCREWED!
But it was time for breakfast, so I settled my anger and calmed myself down. I attempt to eat my breakfast with my left hand, because space invader man had his wings out again. His elbow was nearly in my food (*chants ‘in with gratitude, out with love, in with love, out with gratitude*). My patience was clearly at its peak by this stage.
Finally the man with the eagle wings fell asleep. Once again I tried to get comfortable, but that’s a little difficult when your only allowed two thirds of your allocated sleep and you are hunched up next to the aisle. Just as I would get comfortable, someone would bump my head or shoulder. Relaxation to the MAX. And Mr arm rest then started SNORING! Thankfully I’m well trained in coping with snoring thanks to PH.
Suffice to say I was fairly excited to get off the plane. This was just the start of what turned out to be the best four day adventure I had ever been on. I’ll tell you more about that next time.
Much love peeps xx