RP O’Donnell says it’s arduous to seek out wherever higher than Boston to indicate your loved ones a good time as he returns to a metropolis he used to name residence
I’m not an ideal flier, I by no means have been. I can’t even fly kites: I get dizzy trying up at a peak.
However way back, once I moved from Boston to the Midwest United States, I made a decision that flying was unavoidable if I wished to see my household usually; I accepted it as one thing I used to be simply going to must do.
I didn’t have a alternative, so if something unhealthy occurred, it was destiny. Which was comforting.
It was additionally comforting that I used to be younger and single and I may drink my shirt off earlier than every flight.
Now that I stay in Eire, throughout the ocean from my household in Boston, this stoic philosophy serves doubly.
Effectively, the primary half no less than; I’m now not single (and though I’m nonetheless younger, I typically discover myself loudly complaining concerning the value of cashews and questioning if there aren’t extra stairs on the planet today).
As my associate and I set out for a visit to Boston for Easter this April, we had our two kids in tow: a five-year-old and an eight-month outdated.
Which meant that we had been now not travelling—we had been travelling with kids. We had been earnest and considered ourselves as good and succesful mother and father, so we decided, a fateful error: we tried to get intelligent.
I’ve travelled lots through the years, and my one rule has at all times been, don’t get intelligent.
What this implies is, don’t assume which you can foresee something. Clearly, put a construction into place, however then go away vast room for improvisation.
Issues will go fallacious: roll with the punches.
This could have been doubly true for travelling with kids. Kids are inherently unpredictable; they brush their tooth with chaos and reduce their hair with…