Take-off, Landing. Take-off, Landing. Take-off, Landing. Take-off, Landing.
We made it.
It feels like a miracle, really.
Not the whole “150 people rushing through the sky in a pressurised metal tube” thing.
We just survived 4 flights in a row with 2 kids. We all got a little sleep, had a few decent meals and made it to the bathroom on time. I even saw a couple of good movies. I’d love to say it’s because we’re super parents and expert travelers* but really I’m just so grateful for how our two rolled with the punches. They waited patiently in lines, slept in funny positions, and kept their seat-belts on and tray tables up for take-off and landing. I’m mostly writing this to say thank you, I’m a very proud dad.
We’ve also firmly established the strangest tradition of all time. In transit through LAX, we paid the third annual visit to the 1 inch Lightning McQueen toy that Vin wedged through a crack in a window on our first ever visit to France. Perhaps we’ll bring the grandkids past one day, or you can share the tradition with your family (if you can find him)!
Ironically, my biggest issue this trip was losing a 30 day streak learning French. I think moving to France is a pretty good excuse though.
*We did have a couple of pretty cool tricks up our sleeves. Becs made some roll-out beds that tie on to the seat in front, and custom fleece headphones they could fall asleep in. 💪
