Flying solo

I have a baby craving.

Some of my friends have recently had babies. And I miss babies. Plus my youngest baby is almost 6 and not so much of a baby anymore.

I was lamenting my plight to Packrat, a key player in any sort of baby making endeavour and he wryly commented that if that were the case, I would be having babies all the way into my 70s. And I was telling him this over a hot lunch where no kids were needing our attention because we were far away in another country without them. He did not fail to point that out to me either.

But that's just the part of me that misses the baby-smell talking. The part that feels sleep-deprived, exhausted and broke all the time makes it very clear it's a bad idea. Also, the fact that I have recently started to sprout whites on my head, possibly to do with both stress and age tell me that it's not a good idea.

But the most compelling reason to ignore the baby craving is actually the reason why I have the craving in the first place.

JED are all growed up now.

A case in point.

Packrat had to fly solo with them to Phuket. I was flying out on a later flight so he took them on his own. JED were warned to listen and to always stay close to Papa because the airport was crowded.

Evan took Muffin's hand and held it tight. He said to Muffin warningly, "You must always hold my hand. If you lose me and lose Papa, the plane will fly off without you." Muffin obediently followed.

Travelling in December is always a circus because half of Singapore leaves its shore. So Packrat had to distribute to each child their passport and give them instructions on how to go through Immigration by themselves, telling them to point to him if asked who they were travelling with. Each child sailed through, smiling at the Immigration Officer, answering their questions and being rewarded with sweets.

On top of that, flying budget and choosing not to pay the extra $5 per passenger to choose seats meant seats were allocated. They were allocated 3 seats in a row and a lone window seat two rows down. Packrat had no choice but to seat JED altogether and squish himself into the window seat. Because he was stuck, JED had to fend for themselves; entertaining themselves, going to toilet and battling the the, in their opinion, scary toilet flush. When Packrat was reunited with them upon landing, he found them each munching a bar of Kit Kat which the stewardess had given them because they had been so good through the flight.

By the time I got into Phuket, Packrat was a proud Papa with tales of how his afternoon hadn't been all that stressful because JED had been so cooperative and on the ball with stuff.

I saw it for myself the next morning when I was met with made up beds, clothes neatly folded onto shelves and all washed up and ready to go for breakfast. It wasn't perfect but it was decent enough. When we were preparing to go back, I told JED to pack everything on their shelf (where I had allocated space for each of them) into their bags. For the most part, their clothes went into the bags higgity-piggity but all was in and all were proud that they had packed their own luggage all by themselves.

It's great to be at the point where they can do most things on their own and look after themselves. And much as I would love to smell the top of a baby's head whenever I want to and be able to have a baby around, I think the fact that I'm getting more sleep every night and slowly gaining some aspect of me-space/ time back are very strong reasons to get a grip on this baby craving.