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Photo credit: Ryan Carver |
It turns out that when
you're not lugging car seats, strollers, and a diaper bag packed to the seams
with snacks and toys to occupy the kids, navigating security is a breeze. I
floated through JFK as if I were out for a Sunday stroll with not a care in the
world. While leaving the bookstore excited for the quiet reading time awaiting
me on the flight, I nearly bumped into Sarah Jessica Parker in the Jet Blue
terminal (I know!), a sighting I would have surely missed had I been tending
to the kids.
As is procedure for me when I fly, I mentally prepared myself for the expected internal freak-out upon boarding (airplanes make me insanely nervous). Ordinarily, I quietly swallow this anxiety in front of the girls, muttering my rosary under my breath and acting as if all is fine so that they don't inherit their mother's fear of flying. But today, I could just be myself. Right before boarding, I stood at the gate staring down into the long jetway as if it were a plank leading to shark-infested waters. With no kids to worry about, I made a quick detour to a nearby bar where I spiked my morning coffee with some Jameson to calm my nerves (oh, don't be so appalled).
As is procedure for me when I fly, I mentally prepared myself for the expected internal freak-out upon boarding (airplanes make me insanely nervous). Ordinarily, I quietly swallow this anxiety in front of the girls, muttering my rosary under my breath and acting as if all is fine so that they don't inherit their mother's fear of flying. But today, I could just be myself. Right before boarding, I stood at the gate staring down into the long jetway as if it were a plank leading to shark-infested waters. With no kids to worry about, I made a quick detour to a nearby bar where I spiked my morning coffee with some Jameson to calm my nerves (oh, don't be so appalled).
Once airborne, and admittedly more calm, I watched
a movie of my choice, uninterrupted. I finally got to read through a collection
of essays I'd been eying for months but never had the time to get to. For once,
it isn't me who's shuffling up and down the aisle, shushing a screaming toddler
and fending off dirty looks from other passengers. And the only potty breaks
I've been worrying about are my own.
I'd been reveling in my solitude when a flight attendant placed a snack box on my empty tray table and, instinctively, I
picked up the flimsy plastic utensils and began slicing the brick of cheddar
cheese into thin pieces for the girls, knowing they'd welcome the treat on such
a long flight. Only then did I remember I was by myself, a quick pang of
longing for my girls leaving my chest just as fast as it had come, my mind
drifting to what they were up to in New York, and wondering if they were thinking
of Mommy.
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