The flight down was great. I did a bit of "alpha, bravo, charlie" talk at check-in and managed to get the seat beside us blocked off, which I am sure was a relief to the person that potentially had to sit beside us.
The kids were both perfect little angels, I sat back taking all the compliments from other passengers about how well behaved my children were (lets hope these same people didn't witness the return nightmare journey.) I was fully prepared with colouring in and toys to amuse them when they started getting agitated. We did laps up and down the aisle, and even had an impromptu kiddies club up the front of the plane with some of the other children. Grace needed to go to the toilet at one stage, so I took her up, opened the door and let her sort out the rest. Xav by the stage had done a runner to the other end of the plane, so I quickly told Grace to finish up and I would be back in a sec. After rescuing Mr Busy, I turned around to see Grace standing up the front of the plane, bare bummed with undies and pants around her ankles.
Hurrying past the snigger's and smirks of other passengers, with Xav sideways under my arm I ran to her, took her back into the toilet and got her to wash her hands and pull her pants up. Leaving her for a second after that, cause Mr X was once again running down the aisle, I then turned around to see Grace grab the hostie microphone and start to warm up for a concert. Once again, Xav was snatched and I was to run to the front to save the day. Oh, and when I took my eyes of her for another second she was fiddling with the emergency exit buttons at the front of the plane.
All in all though they were great and I was lulled into a false sense of security for the return flight, more on that later though.
It was great to catch up with everyone in Tas. Mum was thrilled (well the first 7 days she was, I think she was over us as house guests by the end though!) to have us there. Xav and I got to share Mum's room (and the bed of course!) and Grace got to sleep in the fairy room. She was stoked to find not 1 but 3 fairy dresses for her to wear EVERY SINGLE WAKING MINUTE. She even managed to wrangle 2 of them into the suitcase to bring home.
Grace had a great time playing with Uncle Stephen's cockateils. One is called Elmo, but Grace really has no clue who Elmo is and miss-pronounced the name Emo. So even though the bird is not pale skinned nor does it wear heavy black eye-liner, it is now referred to as Emo. Grace constantly followed Stephen around, much to his horror sometimes. She just wanted to be with him whenever he was home, however Stephen prefers to shower and go to the toilet alone, strange hey!
Speaking of Emo, Grace did manage to find some mascara and went a little goth:
Uncle Chris came over on the Monday to say hi. Grace was asleep on the couch but was happy and excited to see him when she woke. Chris jokingly said that she could go home for dinner at his house, well that was all the invite that Grace needed. Her shoes were on and her backpack was ready, she went out to his car and didn't even give me a backward glance as they drove off. I was a little surprised that she was Ok to do this, I mean she knows who Chris is but she hasn't actually seen him for a year.
She had a great time apparently. Playing with cousin Tom & gobbling up her dinner of lasagna and salad. Chris had been given strict instructions not to feed her any junk. So no chocolate or lollies, but I probably should have been more specific and mentioned no cordial. It seems Grace had her first taste of a beverage that didn't come from me, a cow or a tap. Poor Chris obviously thought he was doing the right thing with the food and didn't even give it a second thought that she didn't drink RED cordial. Not sure if it was that or the hyping up that he gave her, but she was buzzing all night, finally falling into a heap at 9.30pm!!!!
When Mum was up here earlier in the year she had talked up all the things we could do in Devonport. She told Grace all about the the ferry boat that linked Devonport with East Devonport. Grace caught onto this and all she could talk about after Mum left was the Ferry boat. She seemed ridiculously excited about a flaming boat, and then it clicked. She thought she was going on a "Fairy" boat, probably expecting to be greeted by happy, smiling fairies prancing around in tulle & sparkles with wings on their backs and waving wands around. Uh, Oh....How were we going to get around this one without a major tantrum when Grace came face-to-face with the boring ferry boat. You get the magical fairy dust, of course.
So on the way to the big trip we stopped off at my old workplace (Chickenfeed) to buy some beautiful sparkly fairy dust (cheap glitter) Grace chose some lovely purple dust, then we headed down to the ferry.
Now the ferry is a rickety old red and white thing that is in desperate need of a spruce up. It's been around for as long as I remember. Mum is always telling us stories of how she used to walk from our old house in East Devonport, all the way over to the Ferry and then over to "town". I am sure us kids thought it was an adventure every time we made the short crossing over the river.
Grace was eagerly waiting to board the ferry. Her and Xav had the obligatory posed photo out the front and then we all hopped on for the big trip. Grace sat on one of the benches, nose pressed to the window, a smile wide across her face. In all the excitement we forgot about sprinkling the fairy dust, but she didn't mind.
It was a quick trip with not a fairy in sight, but it didn't matter. Grace absolutely loved it and was obviously exhausted by the whole adventure because after leaving the ferry she immediately fell asleep in her pram. Xav had a snooze in his, so it left Mum and I to scavenge around the op-shops. No bargains to be had, but we had a good time anyway.
As we waited at the dock for the Ferry to return, we sprinkled the fairy dust into the river. I am sure the fish are going to look like they are heading to Mardi Gras, all shimmering of purple sparkles!
~~Spreading fairy dust with Nanny~~
I also got to catch up with an old friend from college. We had so many good times together, getting up to good clean mischief. The days were a mixture of alcohol, karaoke and parties. It was great to meet again as mothers. Her beautiful little boy passed away of SIDS just after he turned 1 and she also has a gorgeous 7 months old daughter. It was amazing chatting to her and realising how different we both were from the boozed up partying kids of our teenage years, and yet how alike we still are. I would love it if we lived close, she is someone that I would definitely want to spend time with.
~~Xav enjoying his first ever treat, a yoghurt frog~~
The rest of the trip was filled in with visiting family, wandering around Devonport and spending time with Mum. It was a good trip, but I do always get homesick when I go down there. It makes me realise that I could never live down there again. I just feel so out of place. I have been nagging Mum for ages to move up here, this trip I had planned to finally convince her. I tried but she has told me that it's not going to happen, she's happy (but me being the know-all that I am still thinks that she would be happier up her!) I am kinda Ok with it though. I would love my Mum around for both my sake and for the kids, but short of tying her up and dragging her up here against her will, it ain't gonna happen. Pity really, I had a million dollars to give her if she moved up, Oh well her loss! (please, please, please re-consider Mum! Ok, I am officially stopping nagging now)
Now the trip home. Well this would have to be the hardest thing I have ever done with the 2 kids. It was a nightmare. I was seriously considering opening up the escape route and jumping out. That was the easier and better option.
I'll set the scene. Grace had gotten croup a few nights before we were due to fly. Probably bought on by me taking her to visit the fairy penguins (we only saw 2, but she was happy with that) on a very cold and windy night. The next day she starting the croupy bark, she was getting temps and was very tired. We were going out to dinner at my older brothers house that night, I took her so I could keep an eye on her and thought she could just have a sleep there. I had put Xav to bed and he was being looked after by Uncle Stephen. Stephen was given strict instruction to not forget that he was in charge of my precious son and just leave the house. he promised me that he would stay.
We headed down to Matthews house, checked out the new deck then went inside to start our beautiful roast dinner. Grace was feeling quite warm so I gave her some panadol. We had just set up at the table, I gave Grace a bit of her potato, then she started dry-reaching. I know exactly what was going to happen, so I cupped my hands and placed them tightly under her chin. Yep, up it all came. I was very impressed with myself though, none of it slipped through my cupped hands. So, so gross. After her face was cleaned up, she layed on Nanny and promptly went to sleep. Must teach my daughter better table manners!
The next few days she just slept and was very grizzly. She cried nearly the whole car ride to the airport. She was so miserable, just crying and calling to her Daddy. I knew then that the plane ride was going to be very, very interesting.
The flight was full, which meant that we would only have the 2 seats between the 3 of us. I was nervous about having to nurse wriggling Xav for the whole flight, and as it turned out I had every reason too. I was lucky though that the poor person stuck beside us was a Mum that has been on a weeks holiday away from her 3 y/o. I figured she must be missing her daughter, so offered her Xav as a substitute a few times Grace really needed my attentiong. I was so thankful that someone understanding was put beside me!
Grace was a little whingy, but mostly ok when we first got on the plane. I set her up in the window seat, hoping that she would just gaze out the window and maybe doze off. I strapped Xav onto me using the kiddy belt. He too was ok at the start, just fiddling with the buckles and playing with the drop down table. So the first 30 minutes or so were ok, then things got horrible. Grace started crying, "I want my Daddy, Where's my Daddy?", very,very loudly. She was begging for me to cuddle her, but there was no way Xav would sit still by himself in the seat. I was fighting the whole time to hold onto Xav as he wriggled and squirmed, trying desperately to break free and run up the aisles. My back was aching from the constant struggle as well as trying to cuddle Grace into my side. I tried everything to get them to sit still and for Grace to stop crying. I even ordered the portable DVD player, waste of $10 though, they were not interested at all. I was pulling things out of the bag left right and centre, nothing was doing the trick. I thought I was onto a winner with the yoghurt frogs, nope, they were thrown onto the floor in disgust.
Nothing was working. So in desperation, I did the only thing left. I cuddled them both in close and tight, and sung to them. Now my singing is atrocious and should not be heard in public, unless it involved lots of alcohol and a karaoke machine. After a struggle they both started to calm down and slowly drifted of to sleep. I was so uncomfortable but too scared to move a muscle.
They only slept for 10 mins, but that was ok, it was enough to recharge me for the rest of the flight.
Grace still screamed the rest of the flight, clutching her ears yelling, "Sore ears, oooouuucchhh, sore ears" The poor little thing must have been in so much pain. I have never seen her so upset and inconsolable. I hated the flight. I just felt so useless and unable to help her. It was 3 hours of torture for her, me and I am sure all the other passengers within her screaming radius.
We made it in the end though. It was so great to see Daddy, we all just breathed a collective sigh of relief.
So never again will I fly with a sick child, way to stressful.
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