Fear of Flying....

Long time no post. Yeah, yeah, yeah. My bad. Actually, I've wanted (a little) to post, but overall with the end of the work-year and all the wrapping up activities I've just been too lazy/tired/busy to post (select your excuse).

But, alas, here I am. Posting on a Thursday night. Nothing particularly special about this Thursday, except that in less than 24 hours I will be 'cruising at an altitude of 30,000 feet'.

YIKES!

I hate flying. I don't know why, or how but I have an irrational fear of flying. Not quite a phobia, but not too far off. I just don't like it. I keep hoping that they will invent the Star Trek transporter--for real! I'd just love it. I'd gladly play triple fare to go on the instantaneous transporter. You want to go to Korea? Sure. Push the button **whoomp!** you're there. That's what I keep hoping for. In the meantime, I'm left with good ol' fashioned jet propelled transportation. It is kind of ironic that I'm afraid of flying: I suffer from wanderlust, and truly, the two just don't jibe. Sometime in my early twenties I just had one flight where I suddenly felt my mortality stronger than I had ever felt it, and so began my dislike of aircraft.

Every flight for about the first 20 minutes I sit ramrod straight in my uncomfortable little seat, white-knuckling the armrests and praying, fervently, "please don't let us die, please don't let us, die, oh sweet Jesus, please make sure all of us get safely to our destination without incident or trouble..." and it begins again. It is really quite embarrassing to be the only one in my entire row who is near hyperventilating, and who breaks out in slick little beads of sweat at the first jostle of air turbulence. Yeah. That's me. Then, after that initial 'take-off' and things get to 'cruising altitude' I'm fine. Well, that is until it is time for our 'final descent'. Then, I begin to tense up again, begin my 'breath prayers' and pretty much sit petrified in a state of utter terror until we stop moving on the tarmac and arrive at our gate.

Tomorrow, I get to experience this lovely scenario. With children. Small. Squirmy. ADHD. Two Years Old. Children.

Lord, Help me.

I'm off to Kauai until the end of the month.

Wish me luck. Say a prayer for me (that I don't freak out and that the kids are at the very least better behaved than I am). I'll see if I can post some pictures and tell you the tale of how I survived my first family trip to Hawaii.

Aloha.