Written on my United flight with my sixth-month boy, as we flew out of Japan, away from my daughter & hubby, 

towards my sis & her baby, grandparents, the whole mishpocha but not my girl & man. 


photo by Flight Aware, Japan

I keep looking up

at the map

as I sail over


& measure time

by how fast

I inch towards

the Great Lakes

& over.

Keep studying

glancing up

moment to moment

as if it’s a subway map

written in Japanese

where at any moment,

my stop

could sneak up on me

& I could

quite accidentally, sail past.


My jet-setting trips pre-babies were so glamorous–just me, Vogue, lotsa wine, & movies. 

In between activities, I’d use fabulous moisturisers and make carefree lists about upcoming plans. And now? I cannot pull up the movie screen with the airline’s bassinet set up. Sharing my lap with a baby and a meal does not work, and I actually used my Chapstick as an eye cream, applying with my dehydrated, leathery flying hands. I slept all of ten minutes (out of 14 hrs) , finally giving it up to go become besties with the other insomniacs & flight attendants in the back, where we talked phone plans and airline mergers ala 1986. 

All I could do was stare at those computerised, real-time maps. I actually asked an attendant, “Are we there yet?”, only two hours into our crazy-long trip. 

How has your jet-setting life changed over the years or with kiddos on your lap? How do you cling to that old luxe life in the air?

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