I wish we had had someone taking video of our 7 kids when the plane took off, whenever in the time warp it was that we flew here – feels like 10 minutes ago or last year, not sure which.
We had to de-ice, so we putzed around on the tarmac for a half hour or so. There was a constant stream of narration from the kids about the other planes, the lights, whether or not we were already in the air and didn’t know it, what magic formula of orange stuff was melting the ice, etc., etc.
When we finally started to pick up speed on the runway, the cloud of elation was palpable. As the ground fell away from us, some of the squeals of joy turned into squeals of fear, then screams of terror. Annie was freaking out between Nathan at the window, and Sadie on the left aisle. I was sitting on the right aisle. Nathan appeared to be levitating into little boy heaven – bouncing, chortling, I didn’t see his eyebrows until we had been cruising for 20 minutes. Just next to him, Annie was panicking, and Sadie was getting into a fear feedback loop, gnawing on her hands. He really wanted to help his sisters, but it was just all so wonderful, and literally ascendant that he seemed to be getting lost between their worlds and his. He’d bounce at the window for a second, then turn around and side hug Annie and shout-laugh, “It’s ok, Annie! It’s FUN! Look out the window! We’re going UP!” And you can imagine how helpful that was. I was trying to shout assurance from my seat across the aisle. I was holding Matilda and didn’t want to fall, trying to get over to Annie. Ben was reaching through the seats from behind Annie, trying to hold and comfort her while blind and one-handed. I finally just lunged across the aisle with the baby and squeezed into Annie’s seat with her, and she and Sadie both calmed down right away. Nathan still hasn’t come down from his high.