Not liking Christmas is on a par with believing the earth is flat. I am not one of these people, I love Christmas and I love spending it with my family despite the fact that my brother in law is a bit of a pain in the arse.

 

We do a standard Christmas day in our house and in a surprising turn of events no one cried during dinner because they were offended at someone’s opinions on God or same-sex marriage. Proud of my Mom for staying strong this year!

 

Adding to the madness is the fact that my sister Jane’s son, Luke, is getting a little older (he’s now 18 months old) which is making him way more craic than anyone in the room. He’s zooming around the place without a care in the world and although the Christmas tree has nearly come down on him around ten times you have to love the energy. Luke’s Dad (John) seems to find it less funny than I do, but he’s been banging on about how tough his life is as a parent all day long.

 

I’m trying not to engage with him too much on the subject because he has no idea what tired is, in my opinion. I mean seriously, try a 13-hour flight to anywhere and I’ll show you fatigue!

 

I make sure to dull the sound of his voice with a few glasses of wine and by turning up the volume on the TV as we all watch Frozen together. I don’t do musicals, but it is pretty cool, and it has inhibited Luke’s internal Christmas tree murderer so I think we are all winning.

 

By the time Luke is going to bed it’s almost time for my bed but I push on a bit longer to be social or whatever. I love my bed at home and when I hit it I am gone in seconds, probably because I am fatigued from my long-haul lifestyle!

 

When I wake up it is to the sound of screaming from both Jane and Luke. Jane is holding a saucepan that is half-full with puke and she’s banging on about diarrhoea and vomiting. I tell her to go get John but apparently he’s got stomach cramps. She basically throws Luke into my arms and although he’s crying he seems to not be puking or filling his nappy for fun so I am somewhat relieved.

 

Normally when I encounter an unexpected event while flying there is a mental-model that I can apply to assess the situation and figure out a solution. There is no mental-model for this scenario, or so I thought and then I realise that I spend hours upon hours finding ways to distract my flight deck associates when they are pissing me off.

 

Example: They’re talking about something I have no interest in. So, I make a statement like ‘that’s interesting, how did you feel about the US election, personally I would have voted for Trump’ and then I get to be entertained by their response.

 

I decide to apply the same technique with little Luke. Now I can’t throw Trump madness at him so I just go for visual tools. I start by putting a clean nappy on my head and he doesn’t even crack a smile. I thought I had him! Next I try some music and dancing; I’m a good dancer but I get the feeling my nightclub dance moves aren’t going to cut it.

 

I really thought I was more entertaining than I apparently am so I turn to my phone in an effort to get some laughs. Within seconds he totally calms down and I haven’t even put anything on. He could probably find something to watch on his own but I decide to give him Elmo on YouTube and he’s happy.

 

This response to the screen is an indicator of two things; number 1, Luke’s Dad can moan about how tired he is from parenting all he wants but we all know this isn’t the first time YouTube has been his primary carer and number 2, I am able to adapt any situation.

 

Winning as usual.

 

LJ