After breakfast, we began packing up our belongings in preparation for our morning departure. The confusion and frustration on Mia’s face was painful to see. We did our best to try to tell her what was going to happen. We even enlisted the help of our Holt representative, Catherine, who could at least explain to her in words she could understand. Despite our best efforts, little Mia had a tough morning. She hid. She took things out of the suitcases, often faster than we were putting things in. She even cried once or twice. Thankfully, she settled on clinging on to me with a level of ferocity I would not have expected from such a little person. I’m not going to kid anyone here, transitions are difficult for me, too. Given that, I think it was easier for me to empathize with how she must be feeling. To us, this is nothing, we’re leaving the Marriott hotel. To her, we’re leaving only the second place she’s ever spent the night, and going where? I’m sure she can’t even imagine. It didn’t help that we’re all tired and crabby. I spent the entire morning bouncing back and forth between my role as consoling mother and referee. We left the Guang by train to Hong Kong. While many, many parts of this adventure have been absolutely wonderful, others – well, not so much. Chris’s aunt Marj has a saying that goes something like, “You haven’t travelled the world until you know how to flush a toilet eleven different ways.”. If that saying holds true, and we certainly think it does, then after visiting 23 countries and 4 continents, I can call myself a true world traveler. Like everything else in life, when you are away from home, you have to approach foreign toilets with a healthy sense of humor. Your own tissue, and some hand sanitizer are certainly helpful, too. In China, like many other middle eastern countries, the majority of the toilets are little more than a hole in the floor, affectionately nicknamed ‘squatty potties’. So, after boarding the train this morning, Mia began pulling on my arm, while doing the famous kids’ pee-pee dance. And off we go, portable tissue pack in hand. Now, it wouldn’t be appropriate to discuss the intimate details of our excursion here, but I feel justified in claiming another level of motherhood achievement. Imagine if you will, navigating a tiny, stinky squatty potty with a small child all the while rocking and bumping with the motion of a moving train. Only my many years of yoga training could have prepared me for the strength, flexibility and balance necessary to accomplish this feat. After today, I feel like I deserve a medal, or at least a stiff drink. And Sydney says: Squatty potties are DISGUSTING! But sometimes, you get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit!
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Lisa LynchLisa is a world traveling mom that took the ultimate adventure Archives
December 2012
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