I flew back to Houston with the girls on Monday. We’d had a lovely, if somewhat busy, visit to England for 6 days (that’s mot long enough, by the way, next time we’ll stay for longer…)
The girls were very tired and we were all tearful at the thought of leaving England again so soon, but they were brilliant (as usual) at the airport and on the 10.5 hour flight. Every time we fly now at least one person will comment on what little angels they are. They both slept for 3 or 4 hours (not at the same time, unfortunately for me!) and were in pretty good shape by the time we got off the plane. The queue at passport control always upsets them though. Who wants to stand around for 30-60 minutes after being on a flight for that long, especially when their body clocks are telling them that it’s way past bedtime? Not us. After 30 minutes, the Little One told me she had tummy ache. 5 minutes later I am sat on the floor with her laid flat on my lap as her tummy hurts her so much and I’m scooting forward on my bottom every time the queue moves. The Big One is finding this very embarrassing, but there’s not a lot I can do except hope the Calpol (UK pain killer for children) works its magic soon.
A British business man joins the queue behind me and sees the distress the Little One is in and immediately goes off to talk to a security guard. He asks for us to go to the front of the queue so I can get the Little One home quickly. Miraculously, the security guard agrees (she can’t have not noticed us before as the Little One’s wailing has got really quite loud). He really was an angel in a business suit. Not once in all the times we’ve been travelling on our own has anyone ever helped us like this before (with getting bags down from overhead lockers on planes, getting bags off the carousel when carrying 1 small child or with 2 small children hanging off me!) Thank you, whoever you were. Never have I needed help like that when travelling before.
It was to his own benefit, though, in the end.
As I was answering questions and having my fingerprints scanned whilst holding the Little One, she was sick down my back, in my hair and inside my clothes. The border guard was great and handed me his wastepaper basket immediately (he has small children so at least understood a bit) and even left his post to get paper towels and a drink of water for the Little One. I think he got a telling off for leaving his post but clearly I wasn’t going anywhere for a few minutes!
Once the Little One was feeling better, I’d cleaned us (and the floor!) up as best I can and we’d completed all the passport control questions, we find our taxi and head for our Houston home.
My Lovely Husband comes home earlier than expected as he is feeling ill too. He had bronchitis when we left and since then had been to Canada on a business trip which hadn’t help him get better. He’s now in bed with suspected pneumonia and enough drugs to keep a UK pharmacy going for a few days! We’ll get the results of the x-ray later today and he may need some further treatment then. The good thing about being here is that when you’re ill they are not shy about giving you drugs. My Lovely Husband was given a steroid injection immediately to ease his breathing, which hopefully will help him feel a lot better.
In the meantime, I’m in the spare room sharing with the girls as their body clocks are existing somewhere mid-Atlantic right now! A 3am start for me yesterday and 4am today (at least Disney Junior is on at that time…) I’m hoping that I’ll get to normal time by the weekend. Having spent all of last week on UK and US time as I tried to keep the girls on US time and I had to be on UK time (including 5am starts) for work, I’m now having to do it in reverse. I’m also checking on my Lovely Husband every hour or so in the night, just to be sure he’s ok.
Did I mention that the girls both have colds too? Exhausted just doesn’t cover it…