Flying the High Skies
Wednesday, July 18, 2011
I am currently cruising at a speed of 416 m.p.h. at an altitude of 41,042 ft. High above the clouds I once believed were filled with Care Bears, I journey to the windy city of Chicago, IL.
This is my third journey of the year, having already completed two hockey trips in the last six weeks. My husband and I are off to a seminar, leaving our little ones back home with their grandparents (potential disaster - in the back of my head I'm thinking this may be the last trip the hubby and I take alone).
There was a time when climbing aboard a Boeing 737, travelling abroad toward endless possibilities, brought feelings of joy and excitement. Having attended school in the U.S., I travelled the skies with bliss. Just last August we embarked on our first family vacation to Pennsylvania. Then, with the help of some turbulence (more like our plane bouncing around like a ping-pong ball), I became helpless. My mind rattled, my stomach turned, all the while my little darlings coloured and played games oblivious to the consequences if the plane went down. "Smile and look happy," I told myself over and over (as I hid my white knuckles from view).
From here onward, flying bliss has been replaced with nausea, stomach pains and hot flashes. A means to end. Vacation. A metal tube the size of a two story building, hurdled into the air...ugh.
I watch the flight attendants and remind myself that they, like the pilot, do this everyday. Shuttling travellers through the blue, sun-filled skies, serving Bits & Bites along with over-priced sandwiches. They, however, saunter down the aisle with comfort and grace while I hold on for dear life just to make it to the lavatory.
Curses on them! I pay for my ticket, get squished into the middle seat next to Phil and another gentleman (who appears to be enjoying this experience as much as I), without so much as complimentary vodka cranberry to calm my nerves. Jingles by'!
Which brings me here. Blogging. Writing the thoughts and rambling tidbits to those who may or may not ever read this. Toronto in t-minus one hour and 20 minutes. Chicago...not quick enough. Pee break...immediately!
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About Me...Mommy Jingles
I have a wonderful husband, three adorable children, drive a mini-van (what else are we all fitting into), love a good chick-flick and live on an awesome street. I am not a morning person nor will I ever be. I love being a night owl, yet strongly regret it in the morning when the pitter-patter of little feet stampede through the hall. Repeatedly! The fact my kids make it to school on time still amazes me. Hence, an outlet, refuge and sanctuary had to be found...Mommy Jingles is born. Thoughts, rantings, trials and successes from a mother, wife, friend, and an occasionally "I'm gonna loose it" woman!