Ever wonder what happens when a somewhat sane mum decides to take her 3 year old son on a 13 hour flight ALONE? Why does she do it? Will she survive the journey to blog about it? Read on.
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| Josiah with his cousins Lyndon and Rayna |
For weeks leading up to the departure, I tried to block out all the 'worst case' scenarios in my head. I knew that it is too late to think about pulling out and should then focus on trying to prepare for the trip. My journey started with trying to pack all sorts of entertainment materials (toys, DVD player, books, colouring stuff), extra clothes for both of us, milk bottles, medicines and even my laptop into my backpack. Obviously that was not going to work so I had to add on his usual baby bag on top of my backpack. Oh, don't forget his lunch/dinner and snacks and at least 3 chow chows!! Did I mention it was still winter so although we were headed to 35C, we were both still dressed in 3 layers and a huge winter jacket. And finally the stroller itself - cannot do without it as I know it would be the only way I can make my way to the airplane in the event he does his usual "Mummy, carry me" antics!! I would not be able to carry him, his baby bag and a huge backpack...... Goodness me, what have I brought on unto myself???? And I am not even thinking about the 13 hours in a confined space yet. Heart pumps hard. Feel faint. Focus woman!!! Focus......
Anyway, back to the beginning of my nightmare/
daymare, we were pretty fortunate that Josiah was in a good mood the day we were leaving. We bought him a new toy and told him he could play with it on the aeroplane. He was very excited to get on the aeroplane but the usual waiting time in the airport plus security checks plus having to be woken up at 6am .....get the picture? By the time I said good bye to Shaun and tried to keep it together (
ie not burst into tears of regret and fear), Josiah and I were already exhausted and I have yet to clear customs or anywhere near my boarding gate.
Josiah started his, "Mummy, I want to go home". A phrase which would haunt me for the rest of the 13 hours and actually the rest of the month in Malaysia! I told him we were going to the aeroplane and going to Malaysia.
"Mummy, I want to go home" he replied in his most whiny voice. I had to ignore that to keep sane.
When I cleared customs and found my boarding gate, I gave Shaun a call to let him know we are somewhat okay. Of course, Josiah had to up the game by deciding to jump off the stroller and run off to a pharmacy.
What on earth??!! Oh, no -this could only mean one thing......he is going to do a poop. So there I was bags and all, standing OUTSIDE the pharmacy whilst Josiah looks at some women's stockings (he is always drawn to the women's stockings since young!) and I try to act like this scenario is completely normal whilst Josiah takes his sweet time to poop. Don't ask me why he refuses to poop in the toilet when he is already 100% toilet-trained for his wee! It's a million dollar/pound/ringgit question that I don't have the answer to.
Thank God we were early as this unanticipated nappy change would have wrecked my mental state even further than I can imagine. As if to test my sanity - Josiah then decides that he would make a run home just as I folded the stroller en route to boarding the plane. I had to physically drag him crying and screaming to the aeroplane. All the beautiful Malaysian Airliner stewardesses looked at me accusingly.
"
Kenapa ni? What's wrong?" one asked.
"He doesn't want to go home to Malaysia because he knows London is his home" I answered as he tried to make another run from the aeroplane. He was stopped by one of the stewards who carried him back to me. I told the air stewardess to try to find another seat for the passenger next to Josiah if possible as it was going to be a L.O.N.G flight. As the rest of the passengers filed in, I quickly put on my thick-faced skin in anticipation of all the glares and
sniggers. But that was totally not necessary since I was put near all the other babies flying to Malaysia. All whom are younger than Josiah and they all spent the rest of the flight crying and screaming non-stop. I hate to admit it but I was super pleased as I was able to try to relax knowing that all the other passengers are glaring and
sniggering at the other parents.
The rest of the journey went by in a mind-numbing, body wrecking, slow motion routine of me trying to entertain Josiah using the in-flight entertainment, DVD player, going to toilet, walking up and down the aisle and finally using my laptop. I refused to look at my watch fearing the worst. But when I finally looked at it - 6 hours had passed. And then I blanked out -
ie I cannot recall now how I managed the rest of the flight since he only napped for ONE freaking hour!!!
I recall telling Josiah at one point that I cannot open my eyes, I am
sooo tired, I
NEEED to just nap for a few minutes so would he please, please, please let me sleep?
Of course any sane human being would comprehend that I was begging for sleep but a 3 year old only can comprehend that he is bored and needs another walk-about the aeroplane. So off we went again.
By the time I arrived in Malaysia, I had been awake for nearly 24 hours. I was running on adrenaline and could not switch off. Josiah promptly slept in the car and I could finally relax and soak in the sunshine.
I am home. I am alive. I survived the journey. And then I met my old friend.
"Welcome home" said my good ol' friend Mr Jet Lag
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| Josiah in One Utama shopping center |
