Four hours away from our 1.20am red eye flight (only direct one from Singapore to Fukuoka) and I’m flapping about like a caught fish on a deck, packing like there’s no tomorrow even though I’ve already packed everything I could have packed (have I? Have I?!??) and running an obstacle course in my mind. You know the one: it involves picking up a sleeping baby in the middle of the night without waking him (ha ha) and executing multiple location changes – to car, to arms, to stroller, to arms through security, to stroller, to arms on the plane, to bassinet. Both my husband and I are totally wired on adrenaline, giggling like nervous junkies. He’s busy fiddling with the passports and I’m here translating my twitching into typing, so that I don’t scratch my own eye out or something.
Speaking of bassinets.
It is a very very fat hope indeed that we will be able to settle our squirmy 12kg almost-one year old in a bassinet that is pretty much his length and width. Michael is not an easy sleeper, and only sleeps 1) in his crib and 2) in his stroller. So we’re in for some excitement. I do have an ace up my sleeve though, for an emergency sleep (or non-sleep) situation, and I can’t wait to report on how ludicrous or genius that ends up being.
You know those moms who go hiking or deep sea diving with their 2 week old babies?
WELL I AM NOT THAT MOM. I am one of those totally high-strung moms who worries about nap times and consistency and whether my one year old is going to throw a screaming fit in an otherwise deadly silent red-eye flight. Michael has never spent a night outside of the house, since he has existed.
Excuse me while I go scratch myself and maybe repack the diaper bag.