Disclaimer: I promise to edit this again after I get a good night’s sleep. Cross your fingers that it is tonight.
Ok, as I sit, indisposed, with my laptop in my lap, I know I should be sleeping. Alas, several hours ago, and I am certain, less than twenty-four, I had this crazy thought. Why don’t you blog every day of your trip? You travel a lot. You like to travel and you like to write. Yes, I am that person that when I make a commitment, I really cannot break it. My over-sense of responsibility, not failing or whatever, has me sitting here now.
I should be sleeping and shortly I will be. I should edit this a few times before going to bed. My brain won’t allow either. So here I sit in my dark London hotel room bathroom. I call this old school blogging. You know, just writing stuff, posting it online, and thinking that no one really reads it. Time and internet speeds have changed and blogs are something I no longer know. I don’t even know if people blog, but really that is not what this post is about. It is about London: Day One.
Yesterday. 10:46 AM. San Francisco Airport, United Lounge.
The boys and I have been up most of the night. I am fighting to stay awake. Our flight to London leaves in two hours. I figured I should start journaling again. I like looking back and remembering. Yes, life goes super fast and yes, it is nice to stop and take it all in. It is kind of a pain writing, because I am so tired. To my right, sitting closer to the window, is Eli. He is suffering from either the fourth or sixth case of the hiccups in the last few hours. I feel bad for the kid. We keep teasing him about his mullet. See, the other day I finally took the boys in for trims. The specific instruction to the stylist was: “No mullets.” I begged her to cut an extra half inch off and Eli still has mullet hair. I promised to fix his hair once we arrive in London. Ah, London, I was just telling the boys. [PS it is more than twenty-four hours after I wrote this paragraph and Eli’s hair still is more party in the back. I am hoping some sleep will solve the issue or at least not make my hand so shaky when I trim his hair with my nail scissors – of course I am not kidding.)
“Who wants to go exploring with me?” Dave says from across the tiny United Lounge table. “I do.” As Kyle stands up, immediately unplugging his cellphone. Tethered like an umbilical cord, he cannot be without this lifeline. I encourage him to plug his cellphone back in the charger. As I begin to talk, I notice that Kyle’s grey shorts are covered in powdered sugar. He’d been eating donut holes. I interrupt myself and ask, “hey, wipe that white stuff off.” I insist. Wiping his hands in broad strokes across his legs Kyle responds, “See, It’s magic –all gone.”
Why I started journaling today is that I wanted to capture these moments. How many months will I remember Eli’s fancy mullet? Will Kyle always be tethered to his phone? Will he be ok without it? Yes, the years remaining with Kyle and Eli are much too short. Remembering seems to make it last. See, I hold these moments in words, because really that is what I have. Pictures and words are what we all have.
Kyle and Eli will have families – I hope. And I hope that I do not become the proverbial crazy mother-in-law. I can get pretty crazy so I am hoping the boys and I can ebb and flow into a beautiful and well communicated adult relationship. It is coming too soon. I want them to grow up and be the best men they can be and I want to find a way to stay close. Yes, what does this have to do with our trip? I will tell you. It’s about jet-lag, sleep deprivation, hours on planes, and boys telling you they can’t sleep because you asked them to. And following those words up with, “If you had not said anything, MOM, I would sleep.” I shut up and thank God about ten minutes later that same son was gently snuggling up to me. I love sitting in the middle, grabbing stuff, holding pillow and empty ginger ale cans.
A few minutes before now:
My laptop battery is about to die. And just moments ago a sign was shown to me that I need some sleep. I was trying to be all responsible and get all 1800 of our portable electronic devices properly charged. As I was trying to plug the second European adapter in to its special European outlet, once in the little outlet holes, the adaptor wiggled and then bounced down the back of the television cabinet, through a hole int the back of the cabinet, into the cabinet, and behind the hotel refrigerator. Don’t ask. After moments of frustration, with me encouraging Dave (also jet lagged) with the following phrase: “the word no simply reminds me that there is an opportunity,” Dave could not resist my self-help-charm and he tried one more time. Go Little Engine that Could. You may huff and puff, but you will get up the mountain or perhaps blow that house in. Dave did even better. He moved the credenza (the very cabinet that he swore five times was nailed to the hotel room floor) and dislodged the adaptor. High Fives, Dave! Adaptor now in his sore hand Dave admonished, “Really, find another place to plug this in.”
Everyone is fast asleep. My jet lags need to be re-set so I must go.
Day One of blogging London is complete. Goodnight or better, enjoy your lunch people in the US.