I felt on top of the world, even though we hadn’t yet taken off. We had finally unpacked our things on second leg of our journey to Spain, as a family of seven. A flight attendant also on standby for our Atlanta flight had visible shock when I had said we were traveling with 5– “You mean your husband and you and 3 kids,” she said. “No, we have five kids.” Where are they all?” I pointed to where our 2 car seats, 3 carry-ons, and two strollers had been strategically placed shielded behind a large column to hopefully disguise the entourage that would accompany the standby seats he was negotiating with the gate agent. The children were all of the place. No containing them. I just don’t think she noticed because 3 are under 5 years of age, and 2 look exactly alike.
After letting on several other standby passengers, and urging us to stick with our original flight set to leave in an hour,, the gate agent finally gave way and let us on. Checking our three bags to our final destination, and hurriedly telling us to gate check everything as rapidly as possible. We scurried to take our seats as the announcement came overhead the doors were closing. Even though our twins were sharing a seat— probably completely against flight policy— we were breathing huge sighs of relief that we had added an hour of additional buffer time to what would have been a 45 minute layer over in a large airport.
So as I got myself settled in my seat, plugged my kids into 3 screens I was sure would entertain them for the next for hours, I thought, the haredest part is done. Months of preparation, two weeks of solidly living and breathing last minute details and packing, had all come together, and all I needed to do was enjoy. I assured myself that I had prepared too much. I could have packed half as much for our plane rides. Nothing in our bags could have prepared me for what would happen next.
The start went smooth enough. We had both ‘gemelas’ (twins) in their car seats and they were watching movies. James was playing with new paw patrol mini figures and magformers— the absolute best toys for preschoolers on flights! I had grabbed a few pieces of pizzas from the food court on our layover to tie us over, until a planned meal service the gate agent had said would be served 90 minutes into the flight. The last suppposed 30 minutes of the 90 lasted forever, I could literally see my children go from happy yougins to having the last bits of their well-rested pleasantness sucked out of them. Over 2 hours into the flight the meal was finally served. The children weren’t very interested in it except for the roll, crackers and, cheese. I grumbled to myself that I should have just served them some of the buffet of snacks I had packed in our bags, but it really wouldn’t have been much help, the cabin lights stayed on well after 9 pm local time. All of my effort to wind back bedtimes the past week to close too 5 pm, appeared that it might backfire as ticking toddler time bombs.
Edith had no problem taking her bottle when we turned her TV off and then going fast asleep, Surprising because Edith is not our twin who is always ready and awake for a party and doesn’t take long naps. Ava on the other hand, always wants her crib, blanket and thumb and will outsleep Edith even if she is in the crib next to her, making noise and smiling like a happy puppy dog, waiting for her sister to awake.
When we tried to turn off the screen for Ava to give her a bottle, she got very upset and began to kick her legs, realizing that she could turn the TV back on by reaching it with her middle foot. The car seat height and positioning gave her just the right amount of advantage. She continued to do that, and even though we tried many different solutions to get her to sleep, it was past 1 am in the morning our time and all that would make her happy was walking the aisle ways with her blankie in hand. Even just trying to sit and hold her wouldn’t work.
James was also a grumpy mess getting to sleep, but he finally did when we gave him a whole bench to stretch out. With it being a full flight, this didn’t give us anywhere to sit, but as I said before, one of us was walking the aisles with Ava. Finally, I risked transferring James to Ava’s car seat to see if the flatter sleeping surface would help Ava settle. It didn’t work. With just two hours left in the flight, she fell asleep in my arms because she was so tired she couldn’t’ cry any longer.
When the lights turned on the snoozers turned to half-mad, half-asleep monsters. James was super grumpy. Like his “It’s been a really long day, I need to go steep” tired… times 5. The babies were really out of sorts as we bustled them to the baggage claim area that included several non-stroller friendly flights of stairs. We were no longer in ADA accessible America.
When we finally got to the exit area Alberto, the father of our exchange student last summer, warmly greeted us. It was a breath of fresh air. About a week ago we realized that when Mike scheduled the rental car, he put that we would pick it up at 12:30 pm. Our flight was landing at 7:30 am and it wouldn’t’ be ready, so Alberto had offered to pick us up and have a very kind driver help us out to a van so we could go to their house and take some naps. The driver spoke no English. Wasn’t even going to try. Mike was driving with Alberto and our older girls, so I was forced to make conversation only in Spanish. It was very challenging and fun! We talked about what he did and did not like about Madrid, his son, why I was learning Spanish etc. The 30 minutes flew by, and thanks to the children looking glazed eyed at the IPad, they didn’t make a peep.
When we arrived at their home, Alberto’s wife rushed up to us, gave us ‘besos’ (cheek kisses), and quickly began speaking her only proficient language of Spanish. I was a zombie myself, but inside I thought, “Wow, this is going to be amazing.” My inner excitement was topped though when I saw Ana! Our exchange student from past summer was dressed in her prep school uniform, complete with a short pleated skirt and almost knee high socks. She looked great and gave me a huge hug. What a treat to see the sweet Asian-Spanish daughter we had enjoyed having with us just 8 months ago!
There home was very beautiful and well-kept and quickly they began to ask what we wanted to eat and where we would like to go for lunch. I don’t think I was thinking clearly at all. My only thought: Kids. Need. Bed. I. Need. Bed. Try. To. Make. Conversation. In. Another. Language… Words. Coming. Out. Choppy. Like. This.
After eating the Deseyuno (breakfast) spread they made for us, I couldn’t get to my bed with crisp sheets fast enough. I awoke 2 hours later with Mike saying we needed to get ready. We had lunch reservations in less than an hour. “Reservations?” What…. I got dressed, came downstairs to greet yet another Spanish speaker with limited English. Mike had picked up our student Jenny who would be traveling with us. We knew her through friends we would be staying with later on in the trip. The eighteen-year-old had a sweet bright smile, long blond hair, beautiful shimmering eye makeup and bold turquoise nails. After introductions, it didn’t’ take long for me to ask her for help. The babies needed new diapers and clothes on. Both of them were into small, toy looking glass decorations at a toddlers eye level. I didn’t know how to distract them and try to get us all in necessary clothes and shoes. The cat got lost. A couple of the small fragile things broke, and within the flurry of minutes, we were out the door to lunch.
With a couple hours rest under their curly heads, the twins were operating now on roughly 4 hours of sleep when they would otherwise have 12. As we pulled up to the restaurant, and did a precarious half park over the curve, which Alberto informed us with the Spanish way to park, I realized what kind of restaurant we were going to. We walked in and all I saw was glass stemware and white table clothes. Dozens of nicely dressed people chatting around tables— most likely on business lunch goers. They led us to a downstairs room with about 5 other medium size parties.
Panic didn’t set in. I was too tired to panic. But had I been well rested, I am sure I would have had a serious anxiety attack. You see, we don’t take our whole family to restaurants— well, except those that include a playground and a cow dressed up like a chicken. Each attempt we have made has been a total failure: including the first time we showed up at our favorite cozy cafe with two infant carriers in hand (How were they going to find a place for those?); our Metro Diner experience in which the waiter said, “Wow isn’t this a family circus”—my generous tipping policy was completely forgone in that experience; and lastly… oh wait, that was the last.
Now, I am here in a room full of beautifully dressed people, with 2 toddlers and a preschooler that are all running on sleep fumes? In front of these lovely hosts who have just hired a chauffeur, put us in their beds, and already given us breakfast while we have lost their cat and broken their small fragile, toddler-eye-level objects? As I said before, had I not been in a sleep deprived state, I think I would have been completely mortified, but instead, I smiled, spoke my broken Spanish, nodded my head when Carmen said a whole paragraph of beautiful language I didn’t understand, and tried to carefully supervise Ava as she poured her water between stemware and the smaller glass tumbler which is apparently what they give children in restaurants! Edith on the other had was now dipping her bread and white pasta in her water making like milk with floaters. Alberto and Carmen just laughed at that. They thought it was so cute! Oh goodness.
Meanwhile James had opinions of his own of what he wanted for lunch. We had ordered ‘macaroni’, but the larger none-bent tubes, and white cheese sauce was not what he expected. “I want chicken,” he demanded. We assured him chicken was coming, though I was not sure what else had been ordered. When the circular Cali mar arrived we said, “Look James, chicken.” He ate it sleepily, but happily. I ate my portion quickly and hustled the children outside for a walk. Ava dragged her sleeping blanket with her everywhere… oh, yucky. The sleep deprivation couldn’t shake the thought of everything that went through.
Carmen was nice enough to throw the blankets in the wash while we packed up. She called up to ask me something as I finished bathing the babies which diverted my attention. Both her and I heard the crash. Looking around there corner, was adorable naked Ava, having just seen a set of fragile doll houses on a low shelf. In her curiosity, she had pulled the whole shelf off, and all the houses and furniture were in pieces on the floor. No amount of sleep deprivation could have cured my mortification. My only condolence was Carmen was the one who had called up to me, so clearly I wan’t trying to not attend to the children. In her sweet friendly way she gathered it all up in a bag and said it was no problem, Alberto would fix it. With each bit of craziness, I told myself, “It’s okay Adrienne, you welcomed their daughter into your home for month, treated her like your own.” That had to make up for some of the inconvenience we had caused them.
In their authentic Spanish style, they really didn’t sense any annoyance, and felt so appreciated for
Alberto’s and Carmen’s warm welcome. But I still hoped that our 8-hour presence with us hadn’t made them regret opening their home to us for 3 days at the end of the trip. Maybe between now and then some other fragile things might disappear in their house. Or I hoped….