3:30am is early. Too early. That was the time Wayne chose. I exerted my womanly rights and wisdom and chose 3:40am. Wayne was sceptical (based on previous experience), but we got out the door by 4:15am. Those extra 10 minutes seemed priceless this morning. I sacrificed a shower since I’d showered after swimming the evening before. That’s often where time gets lost for me…dealing with wet long hair. Wayne and I even argued over the 10 minutes the evening before. The larger issue was the fact I had to be awake at any time attached to the hour 3am. So the 10 minutes was my smidgen of control and protest against something I couldn’t change.
3:45am is early if you’re getting up yourself. I’d argue it’s exponentially earlier when you have to wake a 3 and 6 yo up too. Much of parenting efforts (atleast mine) are spent getting my kids to sleep. It seems just wrong to wake them up and waste that valuable sleeping time.
Alas, I did it. They were pretty good. There was a promise of an unfinished episode of Dinosaur Train while they dressed. There was also the excitement of flying after 9 months of a traveling sabbatical. Clothes got on. And we made it into the car.
Wayne is my amazing guide thu airports. I trust his judgement and knowledge. I am the kid wrangler. Early morning airports are tough on sleepy, hungry kids despite the excitement. Step here. Hold my hand. Wait in line. Walk faster. Wayne had an edgy look to him as we navigated thru lines. He muttered about time. I didn’t even bother to look at my watch. I knew we were responsibly early for a 6:40am flight. But I also understand all the precision that goes into navigating airports. What he knew was early morning flights board earlier than expected since the fligt is at the terminal. We arrived at the terminal at 6am. By the time we filled water bottles, bathroomed and bought juice for breakfast, the flight was boarding.
Breakfast was fun. Laura and I had walked thru pouring rain 2 blocks and waited in a 10 minute line to get Cafe Besalu’s pain au chocolate and an apple Danish for Wayne. It was a time saver to lug the white paper greasy stained bag thru security than get less quality pastries at Starbucks with a 20 minute line in the terminal (especially with early boarding). The other irony was our little local bakery was featured in Delta’s Sky magazine as Tom douglas’ favorite. No wonder the line was so long.
For all this prose, I have to say, the girls have been dreamy compared to past trips. It’s amazing what 9 months can do. It’s amazing what potty training can do.
