Flying nightmare revisited

Sitting across the aisle from a young mother of two on a 1 1/2-hour flight today, watching her struggle to keep “Dilly” (short for Dylan) from screaming, I couldn’t help but remember my own  personal flying nightmare – with twins.

The guys had just turned two and we were moving from Florida to California. My husband, father and five-year-old son drove across country with a rented moving truck, a car on a flatbed, and another vehicle. My mother and I flew.

I cheaped out and opted for “lap children.” To my fellow passengers that day, I plead temporary insanity.

The plane was delayed and stuck at the gate for more than an hour. They wouldn’t let anyone get off the plane, of course, and the flight attendants weren’t serving. The guys quickly consumed all of the juice packs (this was before 9-11 when you could bring liquids onto a plane) and most of the snacks. They were two. They were wiggle worms. They were bored and soon to be overly tired. Once the plane was given the green light for take-off, we still had a five-hour flight.

Perhaps nightmare is the wrong word. I don’t swear (publicly) so I’ll just use baby talk and say it was H-E-double toothpicks. Mothers of twins, you know what I’m saying.

Advice. Spend the money when flying with toddlers.

All for now.

Back to Reality for the Hong Kong Twins

After 14 days in Hong Kong, more than 36 hours of flight time, and a New Year’s Eve they will never forget, our twins are back to reality. One son started college classes last week and the other starts on Monday. Jet lag has not been their friend.

It’s hard to imagine the culture shock they are experiencing after being immersed in the Hong Kong way of life. (If you want a college student’s impressions of HK, read our eldest son’s blog.)

The guys had a layover in Tokyo, then landed in San Francisco, hit the Bay Area traffic and finally arrived in Twain Harte, our sleepy little mountain community. The village is a block long. If you blink during a parade, you miss your kid.

I digress.

Their lives have been forever changed by their adventures. My husband and I are betting money that they choose to do a study abroad program, like big bro.

As far as their bonding experience, they shared a hostel room and a bathroom. The walls were paper-thin and they heard a couple having a romantic romp next door more than once. (I hope those earplugs I packed were well-used.) I digress again.

They haven’t shared a bedroom in about six years. I hear they got along well and depended on each other as they traveled and explored.

Someone posted a photo on Facebook of them at a dinner. I didn’t know I had triplets! Let me know if you think this other guy is close.  I think he is.

It’s back to dorm food and homework for my global trotting twins. I can’t wait to see where they go next. I just hope WE don’t have to pay for it.

All for now.

Triplets circled