Monkey Travel

We're back in the UK!

Matt picked us up from the Manchester airport this morning. It was really great to see him-- Frankie and I were both missing him a lot. After many hugs and smooches, we loaded up the car and headed home on the (punishingly long) 2 1/2 hour drive home from the airport. Once we got back to Maryport, Frankie and I crashed for about five hours. Now, it's 7:30 in the evening and it feels like morning. My body clock is all kinds of screwed up. I didn't sleep a wink on the airplane, and now I'm nowhere near acclimated to UK time.

Prediction: It's going to be a late night tonight.

The flights themselves were fine. Actually, better than fine. Frankie is really great on airplanes. She settles in, we chat, play games, and watch movies. She's actually pretty easy to manage when we're physically on the airplane. The only problems I really encountered were in the airports themselves.

Air travel, in my opinion, is an exercise in testing the limits of patience. There's so much standing around, waiting in lines, chaos, and negotiating throngs of people that I really have to force myself to get into a Zen state of mind when I fly. I am a leaf on the wind.

But you know what four year olds don't excel at? Zen-like patience. Asking Frankie to stand still and quietly wait is like asking a snake to help you tie your shoes. Not physically possible.

It's like Frankie just can't physically sit still when we're in an airport. She always wanting to run around, twirl in corridors, horse around on escalators, pull at my hands and clothes, and squirm squirm squirm. There is never a point in time when she is not moving. With all of the noise and people crowding around, racing by, it’s really stressful to keep track of her while still managing to get through the airport and to our plane. Honestly, I think it would be easier to travel with a spider monkey than it is to travel with a four-year-old, because at least then it would be socially acceptable to cage and tranquilize it.

So, the airplane itself keeps her captive enough that it's not really a problem. But the airport = Monkey Time. The three-hour layover in Newark was really tough, because all Frankie wanted to do was run around, which I couldn't do:

a) because I was exhausted from the first 3 1/2 hour flight

b) because I had all of our carry-on luggage in tow

c) because the airport was insanely crowded

I'm not really complaining about Frankie, of course. She did a great job, all things considered. That kind of a trip is a lot to ask of a little one. It was just a very, very long day.

It’s good to be home.