The journey!

I spent the day furiously packing and cleaning the house. I couldn't have done it without Sarah's help and the children out all day. My friends have been brilliant, having the kids to play. I've barely seen them. But I know that's all about to change...

We arrived at the airport in one piece, travelling fairly light. There wasn't much time for lottering. That pleasurable past time of hanging out in the departure lounge, browsing the shops, is long gone since parenthood. Instead that part of the journey is really quite stressful as you do your damnedest not to lose an excited child or any of their belongings.

Actually, if I'm honest, Hamish and I have never had that many "casually window shopping and drinking Bloody Mary's experiences". We' usually too late.

As we ran to the gate, arriving sweating, Freya was getting increasingly concerned that we'd miss the flight. "Don't worry, Honey," I reassured her, "the plane won't go without us, it's got our bags on board. This always happens to Daddy and I. It's always alright,"

We boarded the plane with me hobbling and clutching a handful of ice. I'd had the most embarrassing slapstick style wipeout as dashing to grab a sandwich from Cafe Italia, I collided at speed with the edge of a fixed metal chair. I properly face planted. I picked myself up, wondered how many fellow passengers had witnessed my clutsy performance and waited to hear laughter. Nothing. No one even gave me a second glance. If I'd seen that I'd have been in stitches.

It was as we staggered up the aisle of the plane that I first sensed that feeling of disappointment (or was it panic?) from the other passengers. "Oh no, children. Night flight to Delhi. Please don't sit by me!"

But someone had to have us next to them! As it turned out, it wasn't so bad. Martha, whom I was most apprehensive about, had a wail of a time bobbing up and down on her seat, playing peepo with the people behind us. Not sure they had such ball, but hey, it made her laugh. Till past midnight. Gus was delighted by the TV in front of him and both he and Freya were positively ecstatic when dinner was served.

We had a spare seat between us so of course our smallest traveller ended up with the most space. The Big M happily shored away, comfortably stretched out across two seats, legs akimbo, making herself thoroughly at home.

Freya did her best to sleep, like a true traveller, in horribly cramped conditions whilst Gus, having snatched a quick kip, was happy to have free rein with the screens in front of him - he alternated between the TV and his DS for far longer than he'd ever be allowed to at home.

So already I'm understanding some differences of doing this with children. The plane journey for me, previously, has been about reflecting on the drama of getting to that point and contemplating the self discovery that lay ahead. This time, with kids, it's a lot more about the survival. Not losing anyone. Keeping them safe and well and happy. Hamish and I both spent the flight in awkward positions in an attempt to make them more comfortable.

Will this whole trip be one long series of compromises?