My kids have figured out how to deal with jet-lag much better than I have. They boarded our 14 hour flight with their headphones around their necks so that before their seatbelts were buckled they could plug in. Emirates Airlines has something like 14000 on demand movies, not to mention video games, tv shows, and this super cool thing where you can watch a camera mounted to the bottom of the airplane and see what’s going on below you. It was a spectacular site over the North Pole as well as entering the Middle East. It stayed daylight for our entire trip- we were so far north that we flit above the night sky and landed in Dubai as the sun was setting around 7pm.

As the wheels bumped the ground both kids startled. They had been six inches away from a screen for the entire trip. A screen which they had not looked away from except for mandatory walk breaks and when the flight attendents came by with cookies. They missed flying over the Burj Khalifa at twilight. They missed the over-served elderly Indian man who neglected to lock the bathroom door and mooned everyone when we hit turbulance. They did not sleep, nap, doze, or slumber. They started at their screens watching content that was probably as inappropriate as it was unmonitored by either of their parents.

i was no slouch in the movie department either. “Get Out”, “The Black Klansman”, “If Beale Street Could Talk” and “This is Life”. Poor Jeremy, reading the medical journal articles he had fastidiously cut out to review on the flight surrounded by a bunch of pop culture consuming nimrods. As we taxied to the gate the entertainment system was shut down and Zeni started to cry- that cry that you do when you are so exhausted the air is hurting you can you can’t think straight. Thankfully it was a silent cry that she was able to hide behind her hair as we cleared customs and made our way through miles of empty, opulent airport to our shuttle. Hayden wobbled behind me like a zombie, at one point falling asleep standing in line.

Walk to shuttle, shuttle to hotel, 45 minute line to check in at the hotel. We left the kids on a lobby couch as we stood in line and said no thank you with decreasing politeness to people who wanted to sell us gold, or a city tour, or these intricate pictures made from layering different colors of sand in a bottle. Finally, key in hand, we woke the kids up. Zeni cried more, Hayden stumbled and managed to both knock his glasses off his nose and step on them, Zeni cried harder as she realized she had left her ipad on the airplane, and I forbid them to get into bed until they had both changed into pjs and brushed teeth, which was done in record time and they were both tucked in and snoring before jeremy and I had put the our stuff down.

As I write we are back at the airport, waiting for the short hop to Addis.

Zeni hasn’t stopped talking since she woke up at 4 am. As we approached the gate she tugged at my arm and nodded to all the Ethiopians, who were smiling at her. It feels so good to be able to do this for her and with her. Wheels up in Dubai, down in Addis, bring in the endless movies!