Hop, Skip, and a Jump

Well, we made it. Quick summary is that it was only as bad as I hoped. Definitely still very rough but I have to admit that it could have been much worse. The first flight was the shortest and correspondingly the best; I guess it will be no surprise to anyone that there is a clear inverse relationship between duration and happiness when traveling with young children. I was wondering if the relationship was exponential in some way or if it was more linear (I even dared hope that it might plateau at some point). I'd like to be able to say that I've worked out the equation but the reality is that this, like almost everything in life, involves multiple variables that are largely beyond control (or, at least, beyond my control). If I had to grab things out of a mathematical toolbox, I'd say we'd need the inversion, an exponent, a step function, maybe an asymptote... but you'd probably rather just read about it. So, buckle up and prepare for turbulence.

We finally had stuff more or less sorted at our home last Monday morning and we headed out at about a quarter to noon. Our flight was at 2:30, but we knew our bags were on the overweight boundary, we hadn't been able to checkin online, and I wanted ample time. Sure enough, it took a while to get checked in and get all of the legs of the flight sorted out (our ticket agent even had to spend a while on the phone trying to figure out why Everett wasn't in the system, despite having a ticket number). In the end, they took our bags (3 of the 4 were at ~53 lbs; only one was under at 49.5lbs), gave us all boarding passes, and we were on our way. We said goodbye to Nana Barb and Pake (Sheri's Dad) and made our way through security. Had to have lunch there and that's where Everett had his first public meltdown (mentioned last post).

The plane to Washington was a small one; 2 seats on either side of the aisle... and we got all four in a row. So, Everett had his own seat and that worked out pretty well. We got to Washington and were all pretty chipper about the first taste of our airplane trek. But the next hop involved 5 hours of flight time over supper and bedtime and Sheri and I knew that this is where things would get a bit more interesting. The cross-continental flight was on a large Boeing 777 and it was packed to the point that our seats were not together. And now, permit me a small detour to rant about the Washington airport: why, oh why, did they only install 50 seats or so per gate? There was absolutely nowhere to sit, never mind contain & entertain a 16 month old boy that hasn't had his afternoon nap. Stop whining, you say; just find an empty gate. Brilliant! Couldn't agree more, and that's just what we did. Found some space and picked up some pizza for the kids. But guess what? They don't broadcast departures at the Washington airport... So, we missed the pre-boarding and ended up the last ones on. But that's okay, it's fun trying to fly in a mound of your own carry-on bags because all of the overhead bins have been taken... right?

Anyhow, we were happy to be on board and a very nice girl gave up her aisle seat in exchange for a middle one so that all of us could sit together. And away we went. Figured we'd wait for supper and then we'd try to get Everett to sleep. And guess what? Although Sheri had called United days earlier, confirmed that a meal would be provided, and requested a dairy and egg-free meal (a.k.a. vegetarian), there was no meal on our flight! (Seriously, is this what air travel has come to? A 5-hour flight over supper time (in all three time zones) and not even a free bag of chips?) Of course, you're welcome to buy something, but they had run out of almost everything by the time they got to us (cold fish head, anyone?). So, we made do with a snack pack and tucked into our own sustenance supply.

Meanwhile, Everett was getting pretty tired of the restrictions we were placing on him (another annoyed observation: does the seatbelt sign really need to be on 90% of the time? The average transit bus shakes and rattles more in one stop than any of the planes we were on, but it seems that airline policy is now to confine people to their seats unless the plane's not moving or it's so smooth you can balance a teacup on a matchstick). We made a little corral for him at our feet and fed him snacks on the floor and that bought us an hour or so. And then came the great showdown for shuteye between the bleary-eyed boy and his praying parents. Mom took round one and it was hard fought but belligerent boy held his ground. So Dad stepped up with the cradle "clamp" hold (you parents know what I'm talking about) and held tight while singing softly in the boy's ear (yes, I still sing, but only my kids are kind enough critics to hear it often). After a screaming eternity of embarrassment, resistance began to ebb. Eyelids drooped and the boy surrendered; vowing, I'm sure, to fight another day. And so it was that we approached Los Angeles; Everett was asleep and my arm-turned-bed throbbed but served well it's current purpose.

January 6 years ago saw a bright-eyed girl and her lucky husband waiting for the inter-terminal bus at LAX. It took more than half an hour to arrive and was immediately stuck in traffic for another 15 minutes or so. The end result was that said girl was reduced to tearful pleading at the Air New Zealand ticket counter as the first destination of her honeymoon hung in the balance. With an escort through security and a full-out run for the plane, those newlyweds made their plane... barely. And now we were back. This time around, we had more time between flights but we were still determined not to waste any of it. And, of course, everything went like clockwork. The bus was prompt, there was no traffic, and we were at the Air New Zealand counter (which was otherwise empty) in less than 15 minutes. We went there to make one final plea for the bulkhead and found that we already had it! All we needed was to pray that no one showed up for the spare seat in our row of four. And that prayer, too, was granted.

Rejoicing, we left North America but were still having trouble really imagining what 13 hours on this one plane would mean for us and our kids. We waited and waited and then waited some more for our "supper" meal (we left LA at almost 1:00AM Ottawa time). It finally came and we tried to get the kids to eat a bit but were mostly unsuccessful... It was time and beyond time for sleep. Annalise was easy; with two seats together and an armrest that folded up, she had a bed. We really wanted to put Everett on the floor but such an arrangement is strictly forbidden. They were able to offer us a bassinet that attached to the bulkhead wall in front of us. If you haven't seen Everett in a while, let me say that he is growing well. He's not huge but he's pretty tall for his age and I figure he outgrew a bassinet about a year ago. Sheri got him to sleep in her arms and we were ready to try stuffing him into the baby bed, but we were again stymied by that ever-glowing seatbelt light. Eventually we, like everyone else, decided to ignore it. Everett went into the bassinet, Annalise slept across 2 seats, and Sheri and I watched and dozed in our seats (at this point, I finally finished my first full movie of the trip). All of us got some sleep, but the kids were awake again with several hours yet on the route to Auckland... and now time became like molasses. And it's tough walking the aisles with a baby boy when people are sleeping and feet, heads, and arms obstruct the path. Somehow, the minutes ticked by and I was just getting Everett to sleep again when the cabin lights came on. My body became the frame of a makeshift tent and I was eventually able to summon the sandman once more. We had breakfast and I, in three minute intervals, managed to finish another movie as we, ever so gradually, began to descend.

We had made it to Kiwi soil! But the next phase was immigration and border control (New Zealand is very concerned about foreign bio-contamination). We finished up all our forms with some discussion about whether chocolate needed to be declared as food and/or dairy and to what extent my shoes counted as hiking gear. Upon leaving the plane, you first have to talk to an immigration agent. So, that's the first line. Once you're through that, you get your bags (and all of ours showed up!) and then you move to the second line (after deciding how much of your stuff you're going to declare and how much you're going to discard). That line leads to a border control agent that decides if you and/or your things represent a threat to New Zealand's biology. Finally, all of your bags get fed through a scanner and, if you're crazy enough to be bringing something as dangerous as rubber boots along, you'll have an open-bag inspection to determine the threat. Sheri's boots were inspected and had some dirt on them, but they made it through and we were sent on our way.

And with that, we were officially in New Zealand and the whole country was ours to explore. We called the shuttle for our rental car, they eventually found our reservation, and we made our way to our landlord's home. She guided us to our new place and we were finally in the door at around 9:30 am local time on Wednesday (5:30pm on Tuesday, Ottawa time).

We spent an hour or so going over the property and talking about how things work over here. Then we walked up the road to the little strip mall on the corner that has a bakery on one end and a Sushi bar on the other. Fish rolls and hot meat pies in hand, we came home for lunch and made it until just after noon before we all hit the hay. Sweet, blissful, pillow, mattress, and blanket! It really, really felt good to lie down and sleep for a bit. And nothing in recent memory has been as difficult as struggling to consciousness again a couple of hours later. But that's what we did; I think we're all still adjusting, but we're here to stay and it's only a matter of time.

And what did we find when we were finally back on our feet again? The Auckland Evangelical Church had brought us a welcome basket complete with, would you believe, Earl Grey tea and a tub of honey! Sheri was convinced they had tapped into friends or family back home to learn what would make us feel most at home, but it was apparently an accident (not so, say I: He Who guides us guides them!) and we are thankful. It's really great to feel loved and cared for no matter how far we roam!

As a final thought on this post, I'll say a huge thankyou to everyone that contributed treats, toys, snacks, and diversions for our children on this momentous journey. They stood us in good stead and held out until the end. To all the others who have contributed in so many ways to see this dream of ours come this far, another huge thankyou. All of your thoughts and prayers are immensely appreciated. Thankyou, thankyou, and thankyou; we are here in New Zealand! (And I can't help but wonder at what angle beneath my feet lies Ottawa and my home and native land.)