The 40 Hour Journey

Brunei is a wonderful place to live, but it is freaking FAR from the USA.  Like, probably as far as you can get. 40 HOURS to get back, including car time, layovers, and 3 flights.  That is why we only make the journey once a year, during the summer, and we stay for about 6 weeks to give us time to get over the awful jet lag and settle in a bit before the long return trip.  The past 2 summers, my sisters have each taken turns coming out for a visit and then accompanying me and the children on the flight to the USA.  Keith has joined us later in the US, and then he flies back to Brunei with me and the children.  This summer, however, I am doing the trip to Texas without another adult.  Lord help me.  I'm supposed to be packing, but thought I'd write a blog post instead.  Anything to delay the torture.

These are my expectations:

• Someone will throw up, and probably more than one person.  One of these persons MAY be me.
• Someone will wet their pants because they hold it for 14 hours, and then have to go as soon as we start our descent and the seatbelt light turns on.  This person will NOT be me.
• Landon will come close to starving because of his refusal to eat anything but the snacks I bring along with me.
• I will run out of snacks for the kids before the long flights, because Landon will have eaten them all during our 10 hour layover in Singapore.
• Lacy will not watch any of the in-flight entertainment because my no-screen policy will backfire.  I will be chanting "2 Little Dickie Birds" (a British favorite I've learned here), and singing "The Wheels on the Bus" and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "Open, Shut Them" and every other kiddie song you can think of, over and over, for hours on end, and they will be stuck in my head all summer long so I can whip them right back out for the return trip.
• The other kids will be glued to the in-flight entertainment because they are starved for screens.
• Someone will spill something on their lovey, or blankie, or stuffed animal, and throw a fit.
• There will be fighting, groaning, gnashing of teeth, and other hellish behaviors.
• My chronic back pain will kick into high gear from being cramped in economy for so long.
• One of the kids will decide to go to the bathroom just as soon as we get settled with our tray tables down, food and drinks sorted.  They will be performing gymnastics to get out of their seat as I balance trays and drinks and coloring books in my hands, leaning back as far as possible (3 inches if I'm lucky) as they climb over me.  Then we will repeat the process when they return from the restroom and need to get back in their seat, put the tray table back down, and let me set up their food and drink and entertainment again.
• As soon as the previous is accomplished, and I relax again, another child will have to use the restroom.  This will happen multiple times throughout the flights, every time we get a meal or I happen to drift off (except for that one child who is holding it until it's too late...)
• Lacy, notorious for her airport tantrums, will throw herself down in hysterics and refuse to get up.  Because of my back pain, I will not be able to carry her.  She will throw a huge fit while others look on and I just shrug my shoulders.  Natalie or Harton will get embarrassed and try to carry her for me.  She won't like that, and the fit will escalate.  I will be dragging my child through the airports, looking like a sleep-deprived psycho mother.  Which I WILL be by that time, if I don't currently qualify as one.  

Deep breaths.  Whew.  Ok.  So, those are my expectations because we all know that when your expectations are super low, things can only turn out better than you expect.  And to tell the truth, my kids are troopers.  They are expert travelers now, they all help each other for the most part, and Natalie basically qualifies as an adult since she is a very mature 11 year old (except she does tend to be the one having to go to the restroom at the most inopportune times.)  Still, although I am expecting the worst, I am hoping for the best.  It's only 40 hours of my life.  Well, and then the 7 days of 3am jet lag wake ups.  But let's not get ahead of ourselves.  Texas friends and family, we'll see you soon!