five things make a post about flying solo
Sep. 9th, 2012 05:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sbearbergman 1) Without Mr. Weesauce riding on my shoulders, no one in the airport smiles at me like I am the awesomest thing in the history of awesomeness.
1.5) There's a horse-choking amount of sexism mixed up in why I get such enormous approbation when I'm out or travelling with the little dude, along with an giant faceful of cultural messages about masculinity and fatherhood, I fully recognize.
2) On the other hand, I am sitting here typing and eating a sandwich at the moment, rather than riding the escalator or answering a lot of questions about the functions of assorted runway vehicles and people or attempting to keep my small person from dashing through restricted doors before they close.
3) I would be happy to offer some of these other travelling parents some support, a helping hand, whatever - especially this mother of three girls to the left of me whose youngest is Not Having this 5am airport situation. But I've learned that a lot of people find it creepy for dudes to offer to help them with kid related things. About all they'll let me do usually is handle the luggage while they wrangle the children. Which is not as nice as getting to hold the babies.
4) The Weesauce was up in the middle of the night with a fever, not terrible but high enough that Tylenol and a cool bath were applied because he was so unhappy. Once he was cooler, he promptly conked out in bed between us while I lay awake worrying and testing his temperature every, oh, seven seconds. Ish. I have therefore had something life half an hour of sleep. There's going to need to be a nap.
4.5) Also, I'm now worried about my Secret Agent Lover Man - who has a busy week as it is - with a sick kid on top of it all. With luck, the little dude will be back in shape by Monday morning.
5) The airport departure lounge is playing the B-52s at the moment. If I were with a small boy, I'd be having a dance party right now. Trust.
1.5) There's a horse-choking amount of sexism mixed up in why I get such enormous approbation when I'm out or travelling with the little dude, along with an giant faceful of cultural messages about masculinity and fatherhood, I fully recognize.
2) On the other hand, I am sitting here typing and eating a sandwich at the moment, rather than riding the escalator or answering a lot of questions about the functions of assorted runway vehicles and people or attempting to keep my small person from dashing through restricted doors before they close.
3) I would be happy to offer some of these other travelling parents some support, a helping hand, whatever - especially this mother of three girls to the left of me whose youngest is Not Having this 5am airport situation. But I've learned that a lot of people find it creepy for dudes to offer to help them with kid related things. About all they'll let me do usually is handle the luggage while they wrangle the children. Which is not as nice as getting to hold the babies.
4) The Weesauce was up in the middle of the night with a fever, not terrible but high enough that Tylenol and a cool bath were applied because he was so unhappy. Once he was cooler, he promptly conked out in bed between us while I lay awake worrying and testing his temperature every, oh, seven seconds. Ish. I have therefore had something life half an hour of sleep. There's going to need to be a nap.
4.5) Also, I'm now worried about my Secret Agent Lover Man - who has a busy week as it is - with a sick kid on top of it all. With luck, the little dude will be back in shape by Monday morning.
5) The airport departure lounge is playing the B-52s at the moment. If I were with a small boy, I'd be having a dance party right now. Trust.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 11:57 am (UTC)Travel safe.
Xo
no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 04:08 pm (UTC)I am trying to sort out how much of the horse-choking sexism is in the person having the reactions (both the big approval and the being creeped out), and how much is in the culture they are realistically perceiving.
Brain broken, can't today. Love to you and Weesauce and the sick-kid solo-parent.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 03:20 pm (UTC)