Air Travel/Sleep Deprivation

Could sleep deprivation be a blessing in disguise? My children (and/or dog) interrupt my sleep every single night. Last night C. woke me at 3:30 and I never went back to sleep. And then we went to the airport for noon and hadn't checked the Air Canada website and the plane was delayed 3 hours (ended up being 5 by the time we landed). And then we went to a giant mall in Mississauga and we were (well, I was) delighted to find Princess nightie gowns on sale at the Disney Store so we bought S. two so that she would finally change out of the one Princess nightie gown that she has worn for the last 2 1/2 months (no exaggeration--day and night). She did. She is wearing a purple flouncy satiny number now rather than the ragged pink hand-me-down one we have come to know and love/hate. Everyone (really, everyone) in the airport smiled at her or said: "You look like a Princess."

Eventually we waited at the airport for our late plane. The CBC interviewed me (attracted, no doubt, by the Princess dress) about these new fangled security scanners that are coming in that, can you believe it, scan through to your skin?! Needless to say, my reaction was non-plussed. I suggested naked travel or airline-issue jumpsuits. I didn't get a chance to rant about the idiotic regulations regarding traveling to the US. Did they not think there might be some other kind of terrorist coming up one of these days? Hey, what a brilliant idea, the most recent terrorist had something in his lap in the last hour of a flight so that must be what those goldarn terrorists are up to now. No more stuff on your lap in the last hour! They'll never figure out they could do lap stuff in the last 2 hours, for instance.

Anyhoo... I was without husband. He is on a later plane. I still have picking him up awaiting me. The girls were actually very patient and I was glad Air Canada fixed the generator and de-iced the wings. I actually didn't and don't feel like complaining about the flight. I was able to read some of my book (a crime novel, of course) and watch a movie that was for once in my whole life geared not to male masturbation fantasies but to middle-aged lady masturbation fantasies!! Who knew these things existed?! It was called Cairo Time. Patricia Clarkson plays a middle-aged lady whom a sexy, age-appropriate Arab guy has the hots for. I also watched 2 episodes that I hadn't seen of 30 Rock. This is really not the travel purgatory I'd envisioned. (Last night as I lay awake in my in-laws' basement I envisioned myself writing about the purgatory of air travel).

Instead, I'm happy we got here safe. And pure retarded with exhaustion and child neediness (they need to go to bed and I am blogging and they are hanging on me and my parents went out on some inexplicable errand at 10:13 PM).

As one slept and the other played with her DSI and I watched the non-smutty Cairo Time, I mused about Islamic fundamentalists (a sub-sub-text of this low-key movie and an ur-text of air travel) and felt heart pain and love for these beautiful beings I created and love so much.