The start of the adventure - Transatlantic flying with 3!

Written 2 weeks ago... posted today... I am a HOPELESS blogger, I know. But I try :)

One week ago, I bundled my 3 children into a taxi bound for Manchester airport to begin our adventures across that little pond we like to call: the Atlantic Ocean. Alpha Male was doing a 3 month fellowship at a hospital in Manhattan and had gone out 6 weeks earlier. We were joining him for the last 7 weeks to share in the adventure and to attend a family wedding whilst we are here.

We arrived at Manchester airport Radisson hotel at 9.30 pm the night before our flight. Of course, the original intention was to arrive at 7 pm and spend a relaxed evening at the hotel in preparation for our early start, but those who know me will confirm that timing was never my strong point. However, in my defence, I had not scheduled emergency dental treatment into the day's plans, nor had I factored in someone reversing into my car and having to deal with insurance companies and garages in the last few days prior to departure. But who wants a quiet life? Ahem... occasionally..... me. The 3 kids were beside themselves with exhaustion by the time we arrived and having bathed them and got them into jammies before leaving home, I had 3 sleeping babies, out for the count within about 7 minutes of entering the room. Bingo. Finally, I could breath a sigh of relief. With a G&T waiting in the mini-bar and burger and chips (well, I had to get into the spirit of going to the US!) via room service, I soon began to relax.

The next morning, we were all up bright and early at 5am to begin our travels. Now, before you all start to exclaim at this madwoman flying alone with 3 children, do not fret, I was traveling to the US with my in-laws (traveling over from Malaysia for their baby son's wedding), so that they could help, supposedly. Not that they didn't help. All organised and ready to travel, we got through check-in, security and onto the plane without a hitch. I had booked our flights through an agent, requesting aircot seats, making sure we were all sat together. I had confirmed at least 3 times via email with the estate agent that we were all sitting together and she confirmed that this request had been made with Continental on each occasion. Such confidence had I that this had been prearranged that I didn't even bother to check this detail at check-in. How foolish. As we queued to board the plane, I realised that the in-laws who went out of their way to make arrangements to fly with me so that I would have help on the flight, had been seated 20 rows behind me! So there I was with a 9 month old, 2 year old and 5 year old on a full flight, in a row of 3 seats without any help. Even the threat to the surrounding passengers of 3, small, potentially very noisy children wasn't enough to tempt any of them to offer to swap seats! Fantastic. 

Luckily for me, the kids chose to be angelic during takeoff with no arguments over window seats or who was sitting next to mummy and not too many requests from me to fold their table up before take off and to stop kicking the seat in front.  The baby nursed to sleep and the older 2 giggled as we challenged the pilot to get on his marks and get set.... GO! 

An hour into the flight and the baby wakes up, the fidgeting starts, the 'I need the toilet' requests commence, the demands for food begin, the novelty of the inhouse entertainment wears off and my request to the steward for the 'strongest drink you have' is made. 

With baby awake, I walk to the back of the plane and make a deposit with the proud and patient grandparents and then set my sights on settling the other two. Out come the books and toys from the 'Trunkis'.  And this bit, I have to say, I planned very well.  I did quite a bit of research into suitable travel toys and bought a few little presents for each child prior to the trip.  I kept it all a surprise until the flight and then allowed them the excitement of opening a few new parcels.  Several friends had also given some lovely travel gifts and colouring books and it was not long before I had 2 quiet children. Pleased with myself, I settled down to watch a movie I had been dying to see having read and loved the book about a year earlier - The Help. Who was I trying to kid? The games I bought required help, instruction, the crayons required picking up, the coloured-in pictures required approval. Books needed to be read and the food arrived. Eugh. 

At different points during the flight, all 3 children slept for a couple of hours. Just never at the same time. 

Whatever happened to the days of a boozy flight, a couple of films, an opportunity to start the holiday read and a jolly good snooze? 

After what seemed an eternity, it was time to put our seat belts on once more in preparation for descent and landing. Landing has never been a good time for me, I almost always develop motion sickness during the last 15 minutes of a flight and unfortunately I have passed this on to my eldest son. So there we were - me as green as a lime, 5 year old vomiting into his sick bag, 2 year old crying because she had just woken up and wanted her seatbelt off and baby demanding to be fed to soothe his popping ears. Thanks Continental.

Needless to say, we all arrived in one piece at Newark International airport to a fantabulous view of Manhattan, through the windows at immigration. And apart from a customs 'jobsworth' picking on the mother traveling with 3 kids, 2 pensioners and more than a dozen items of luggage, we had arrived, in one piece to a happy reunion with daddy, uncle G and aunty K! 


We were in New York City!

The reason for the blog

Several months ago, I decided that I was going to set up a blog. Originally, the reason for this was to be able to share with family and friends the adventures of my little family of 5, whilst we spend four months abroad: travelling over 4 continents; living in Manhattan; visiting family and friends; experiencing new places and of course traveling with 3 small children. All this before relocating to Scotland after spending 10 years living in the North West of England.

However, over the last few months, as I became more and more familiar with the world of blogging and the blogging community, I realised that creating this blog was going to be so much more for me. A way of sharing my experiences with likeminded individuals or anybody who may be interested in having a read, somewhere to record the life we are sharing as a family so that my children can look back in years to come and read all about it and finally somewhere friends and family can log in and keep up to date with our adventures. 

I began reading other peoples blogs over a year ago and have enjoyed and learned so much from the experience! I have to admit I was previously a little skeptical, sometimes cynical and somewhat unsure of the blogging community. However, about a year ago, I was having a 'how on earth am I going to cope with 3 children under the age of 5?' moment (whilst pregnant with no. 3!) when my friend recommended reading the blog of a friend of hers with 3 children under the age of 3. Skeptically I logged in and began reading, this blogger was a talented writer who had me captivated after the first post read. I loved it and it wasn't long before I was flicking through other mummy blogs and then on to blogs of many other genres.  I was hooked. And even better, it was a perfect means of entertainment via the iPad whilst breastfeeding the new baby! Of course, like books and magazines, not all blogs hit the right note with me, but the more I read, the more I found and was happy to find bloggers who inspired me, reassured me, made me laugh, made me cry, entertained me and best of all, got me thinking.

So I set up my own blog. To share my experiences and thoughts with others and to have something to look back on and share with my children when they grow. This is me finally starting, I hope you enjoy.

Driving around London? What's the big deal?

It's the first week of the summer holidays. Nothing specific planned. What to do? Already done Chester zoo, the aqua park, this playground, that playground, a couple of play dates. Shall we go and visit Aunty G in London? "Yayyyyy!" come the happy cries. Okay then, and while we're there we may as well go and visit my old chum, Susan, who has also recently procreated again. Perfect opportunity to introduce our new additions to one another. Okee doke. Alpha Male? Can't get Thursday, Friday off. No problem, I'll drive down - you take the train Saturday morning. Are you sure? Yup, no problem. I've driven to Scotland a couple of times with 3 already. M6 South can't be that much different from M6 North can it? Can it? 

6 hours of a 3 hour journey later and we arrive bedraggled, covered in crumbs, Fruit Shoot, melted buttons (don't judge me for my children's travelling diet but desperate times, desperate measures) and in immediate need of a shower. On the other hand I feel surprisingly like Superwoman having successfully driven into zone 3 with 3 small kids in a large, environmentally unfriendly vehicle without getting lost. Not once. Me. Without sat nav. And a sense of direction that was last seen several years ago, wandering around the Amazon jungle. Lovely Aunty G has dinner ready and Uncle H duly takes up his role of entertaining the munchkins whilst I unpack, wash, change a nappy and gulp down a glass of wine.

Next morning sis-in-law pushes her sat nav into my hand, "but I have already worked out my route on google maps" I say, "trust me" she replies "this is better, you won't have to keep looking down at a map, just listen to the directions". OK, sounds good.  Google maps showed me a seemingly reasonable route on the ring road to West London, surely the sat nav will produce a similar or simpler route.  The sat nav gave me a time of 29 mins. What I didn't realise is that this sat nav had no idea just how congested central London is... I leave N8 and arrive 2 hours later, via Euston, Baker street and a variety of other Monopoly board names, a little less well-pressed with a grumpy baby in W4.

Despite this, I had a fab catch up with a very dear friend and we laughed and cried our way through the afternoon, eating the fine food she had prepared for us, feeding our babies together and reminiscing over wild times gone by. Our kids had a ball together: running around her big garden and my 2 loved playing with all the unfamiliar toys their new little friend produced. Early evening approached and it was time to go. Shortly before we left, Susan offered us something to drink... "No better not" said this experienced mother "otherwise we'll need to do a 'wee' stop on the way back.  The children were duly toileted before leaving, but as we got in the car, 2 year old wee girl E spotted an empty fruit shoot bottle from the day before, "I want juice" she tells me "its empty darling, you can have a drink when we get to Aunty G's house" I reply. Cue back arching and screaming. "I have some fruit shoots in the fridge" Susan says helpfully "great, thanks" I gratefully reply, completely forgetting all my good sense of earlier. Nevermind. We now have one quiet toddler. And her older brother is happy too. So we set off. On a new route. A quicker one I'm assured.

An hour into the journey the call from the back comes from the wee girl: "Mummy, I need a wee wee". "Okay darling, we'll be there soon" I lie.  A few moments later and with greater earnest "mummy, I need a wee wee", a tinge of desperation in her voice at the end.  Over the next few minutes, the cries get higher pitched and more anxious. And the streets of London, they do not have the grassy parking places complete with the modesty preserving shrubbery of Cheshire. The traffic is terrible and there really is nowhere to stop.  Suddenly we grind to a halt. Ah, the roadworks I was warned about. GREAT. Wee girl E starts to cry. She hates to have accidents. Not like her older brother. At that age he would have happily released into his car seat. We creep into a tunnel and again grind to a halt.  What am I to do? "Do you want one of baby S's nappies on?" "Yes!" comes the relieved cry. Good. She hasn't forgotten what to do with a nappy then. The traffic is static. Shall I risk it? I instruct 4 year old big boy A to watch the car in front, and I spring into action. I grab the size 3 nappy from the changing bag, climb onto the arm rest between seats, undo wee girl's seat belt, leggings down and just manage to fit the too-small nappy on. "Mum, its moving!" advises big boy. Damn it, they'll just have to wait. Hoot all you want.  You can wait 30 seconds to travel the 10 metres the car in front has just crawled. Leggings up, toddler strapped back in. Sit down, seat belt on. Crawl 10 metres.  I glance in the rear view mirror and see my daughter now looking relieved and smiling back at me. Result.

"Mummy, I need a wee-wee" says the big boy in the back. Oh no. Not again. "A, you will have to wait. We'll be at Aunty G's soon." I reply determinedly. "But mummy, I'm desperate" I give an exasperated sigh, this traffic ain't going nowhere fast and I cannot listen to more whinging for another half hour. I spot the empty fruit shoot bottle. We have just ground to a halt again, still in the dark tunnel.  Should I? Really? Is this a good idea? Will it give him ideas in the future? What the heck, it's a risk I'll have to take. "Here A, use this" Cheeky smile, belt off, trousers down "Mummy I can't do it sitting down" I look either side of us, its dark in here. "Stand up, quick", a happy look of relief, warm bottle returned, top screwed on - tight, trousers up, sit down, belt on. Crawl forward to catch up with car in front, we come out of the tunnel... finally.

Baby boy S starts to cry. Oh great. He must need his nappy changing.....