The saga of Sunday July 28, 2024 travelling between Home and Reykjavík, Iceland

The Plane Ride

Finally, we were sitting on our plane and heading to Iceland. The boys knew that once on the plane they would need to complete the first two pages of their travel journals and seemed excited to do so. I think they knew how much time I had put into making these journals for them and that they just wanted to make me feel good. Either way, I appreciated their enthusiastic responses of “Oh yeah!” and “Let’s do it!” when we told them to take out their journals. Knowing my children, it went about as I expected. Two boys took their assignments very seriously and wrote as much as they could; two started their entries with jokes and then, after a few minutes of letting them respond creatively, took their assignments more seriously.

We worried that our children wouldn’t sleep on our 5-hour plane ride, but we must have tired them out all weekend with play dates and late nights that two boys fell asleep within the first hour and slept for most of the flight. One was HANGRY and tired. I just ignored it and he managed to overcome his frustration after 20 minutes of angry staring and went to sleep with a smile. And one kept saying, “I’m just not tired!” As expected, he fell asleep eventually and slept the best on the plane. Any hopes for toothbrushing were abandoned pretty quickly. We were just glad that everyone showered before we left for the airport.

I did not sleep much on the plane. Perhaps it was the anticipation or the adrenaline I built up during the prep for our upcoming adventure. Or, for reasons beyond my comprehension, maybe it was because they never turned the lights off on the plane. Or, it could have been because I do not sleep well on planes or right before a transition. While I sat awake wishing I was asleep, numerous thoughts raced through my mind:

  • When will they turn off the lights?
  • Our boys had been asking to see Icelandic Phallological Museum (or as we call it, the Penis Museum) for over a year. We put Iceland on our route just for this moment and decided we would head straight from the plane to the museum to ensure we did not miss it.
  • Were the boys going to be awake enough to make it into the museum?
  • When will they turn off the lights?
  • With a backpack under the seat in front of me and two children sleeping on my lap, my legs were wedged in with no ability to move them during the flight. They had gone numb. Would I ever feel my legs again?
  • Do they ever turn off the lights on this flight?
  • Will my kids adapt to the nomadic lifestyle we just subjected them to for a year? Please, God, I hope so. Otherwise, we are screwed.
  • Iceland is cold. Like really cold. (Or, as we learned later is really cold every other summer, and of course we were there for the cold and sunless summer.) Did I pack everyone enough layers for the three days we would be there?
  • Please turn off the lights. I’m so tired. When will they turn off the lights?
  • Why do my children always have to pee REALLY badly at the most inconvenient times? I’m fairly certain this is all children, but ours seem to have a knack for telling us right at a critical moment that depletes an important 30 minutes we were depending on to get items such as food or sleep. This happened when we first arrived at BWI and would surely happen again. Will we figure out the formula finally and then be able to predict and account for when our children’s urges to pee or poop would strike? Unlikely, it seems like a moving target with no clear pattern. And, yet, I am hopeful.
  • I can’t believe this is really happening. A 20-year dream that became a 15-year conversation with Chaim that turned into a 3-year discussion with our boys. I am aware that I have many emotions, but I am in such disbelief that I cannot name what I am feeling. Right now, I feel like I am on vacation. Not a yearlong journey.

I think I slept for maybe an hour total. Instead, I had the ability to look out the windows. I don’t recall ever being on a plane where one side looked out onto complete darkness and the other looked like a mix of sunset, dusk, and dawn the entire flight time. It was stunning.

At some point on our flight, I had the brilliant idea to take out my purse so that it was fully accessible when we disembarked. When we landed it was cloudy, windy, and raining. Save for a few hours of sunshine later that day, this was the weather for most of our visit. Immigration and customs seemed easy enough. There was no line and the officers moved everyone through quickly, except for us. When our officer asked Chaim why we were in Reykjavik, Chaim told him about our world tour plans. The officer was so enthralled that he proceeded to talk to Chaim for at least 15 minutes about everywhere he had visited and ask questions about our plans. Safe to say we were getting antsy and wanted to move along, but as Chaim explained to the kids when immigration wants to talk to you, you answer in kind. We did learn one important tip from this very friendly officer. If a customs agent stamps your passport out of place, crooked, or in the middle of the page they are alerting other customs officials around the world that they found you of ill repute.

As soon as we made it through immigration we headed straight to the toilets – the second of many toilet stops we would need at the beginning of this journey. While standing outside the restrooms I started to freak out. Where was my purse?! After a couple of minutes of searching I remembered my brilliant idea to take it out on the plane. Between my sleepless stupor and my focus to get everyone else off the plane with all of their stuff I completely forgot to take my purse with me. We must have been off the plane for at least 45 minutes by now and I was worried the plane would leave before I could find someone. As soon as Chaim exited the restroom, I told him what happened. This is not the first time I have forgotten my wallet or purse or phone. In our family, I’m notorious for forgetting important items when rushing about with the kids. So much so that the boys make fun of me, which they promptly commenced when they caught on to what was happening. What can I say? I told you my executive functioning is okay at best.

I dashed through the (thankfully small) Reykjavik airport to customer service and told the lovely young woman what happened. She did not share my sense of urgency and told me to wait a moment while she took care of an announcement she needed to complete. After a few minutes she asked me to repeat what happened. She remained calm (I tried to project calm while freaking out on the inside) and radioed ahead to the cleaning crew. After about 10 minutes my purse, now soaking wet due to the rain, was securely in my hands. I headed back to Chaim and the kids and promptly put it right back into my backpack. All sorted out, we walked briskly to the bus shuttles.