Flying with hobbits...

I am sitting in T2 at Barcelona Airport waiting for my return flight to the UK.

It has been a very long and emotional day and to be honest I didn't think I was going to blog this evening. However, I have just rediscovered why expresso is so good here in Spain and am writing with renewed enthusiasm, (and ABBA on the iPod).

I confess to a very wobbly start this morning.

I knew it wasn't going to be easy, and at one point I really felt that I couldn't go through with it. I actually considered ringing and faking snow on the ground - or making a security alert so that our plane was cancelled. 

However, I wasn't going to be the one who let the hobbits down now after all we had been through - so after a few drops of rescue remedy we were ready to go.

Now I am not a nervous flyer, but there is something that makes me anxious until I am on the plane. I always feel a little out of sorts until my bum is firmly seated on the plane ready for take off. So excited hobbits arriving at the airport terminal and one mum who is a little bit anxious about the trip, the whole trip and nothing but the trip you'd think would not make a good mix.

Nevertheless hobbits were amazingly well behaved in the terminal and on the plane. I was rather proud of the level of god given fear I had successfully installed in them before leaving the house;
Don't run off...
Don't fight...
Don't scare the other passengers...
and don't put yourself through the baggage security check for a laugh

I had already completed online check-in a few days ago so we were good to go,  no need to hang about, liquids in clear bag; easy - passport  check; easy ...
However going through security was slightly more fun...(insert sarcastic tone here).

All four bags, one pair of boots, one tube of gravy in a clear bag (spiderman's), a laptop and three belts to be positioned in blue boxes to go through security.  To be fair the guys were very nice and helpful, but it did feel like a real effort taking off three belts and putting them back on again; and when the hobbits saw that I'd taken my boots off, they all wanted to do the same - so thank you to the security man who entertained them briefly showing them their shoes under the x-ray while I got dressed again.

Herding small hobbit sheep through the terminal is a tough job, but something I am well trained for.  It causes for some serious multi-tasking skills; eyes in the back of the head, alternating levels of speed and good lungs.

They were of course...starving, having only had breakfast an hour and a half before. However far from the usual McDonalds cry...they all chose a very healthy pot of fruit and water. Clearly Mother Nature found a way.

I was also very impressed by their behaviour on the plane. Now I am the first to get exasperated by hobbit arguments, but they were excellent. Really and truly.  At one point I did ask them who they were as I couldn't believe they hadn't been cloned. 

They shared games, played nicely, didn't argue (!), loved taking off and landing...but asked for more food as soon as the seatbelt light went out.

I had previously imagined myself arriving in Spain, slightly stressed after a flight with them and almost thought that the hobbit exchange with their dad would see me skipping off gleefully back to England as a coping mechanism - but alas they behaved beautifully thus making me feel even more reluctant to say goodbye.

Saying adios is probably one of the hardest things I have ever done besides the break up of my marriage. I feel bereft and lost without them, but I also acknowledge that this is my time to recharge my batteries and think of more great things to do when they come home in six weeks time.

So with their final instructions I hugged my little hobbits as much as they would allow it.
Please don't fight...
Please don't argue...
Please look after each other...
and most importantly.....Please don't forget I love you.