When I think of the word “delay,” airline travel usually comes to mind first. Nothing like getting to the airport only to find that your flight (even if you checked it before you left home) is now delayed. Maybe once. Maybe twice. Maybe on and on and on… you waver between hope that things will turn around and you’ll get on your plane, and despair that it’s just going to keep heading this way and who knows *when* you’ll get on that flight….

It’s a shock to your expectations that you were going to be able to travel, and get to your destination, on time. If you have an agenda awaiting you at your destination, it’s even more stressful and jarring. I mean, you packed well, got to the airport with plenty of time, cruised through security with your laptop out in the bin, shoes off, and toiletries in a quart-sized bag. But still, the delay is out of your hands.

It’s not like when the plane is overbooked and the person at the counter offers a nice voucher if you’d only get bumped to a later flight; there, you sit in the seat of privilege of someone who has the time, the luxury, the *choice* to decide which plane you’ll get on.

Over time, you might come to find (if you fly enough) that you lose a little faith in the airline industry and come to accept that delays – for whatever the reason – are just part of the deal when you fly. Even as you adjust to this idea, you acknowledge that this was not your plan A. You might find activities to occupy yourself as you wait at the airport, like reading a book, taking a leisurely stroll to let your thoughts go, or taking a snooze at your gate. But it’s not like you *planned* it this way or likely even that you’d vote to do it this way the next time you fly. You adapt, because you have to, but always keeping in mind that it ideally wouldn’t go this way.

Now imagine this applying to your child. Always. Without a break. Always adapting, adjusting, settling into the life of a gate-dweller while knowing all the while that it’s not “supposed” to be this way. My heart races just typing about this because sometimes it’s just so *odd* that this is where we live.

The cool (ok, not *cool*, but upside) thing about a delay is that, while not always true with flying, with children there can be catch-up. The kid (an irresistible little kid, may I add ) who couldn’t hold up his head until 8 months old could then progress to sitting by 11 months and crawling by 14 months. He could close the gap from an over 50% delay in some areas to under 50%. That gap could continue to close in various areas, or not. It could widen, or not. We don’t know. The stares and questions (not the kind that seek to understand, you know which kind I mean) become less bothersome, but they are noticed. You adjust, but you are reminded that this was not plan A.

Resist the urge to fix it. I’ve tried, and it doesn’t work. Settle in and share a Sudoku. Take a walk with us to browse stores near our gate. Come find a good corner and snuggle-up back-to-back for a quick snooze while we wait. It’s not what you expected, but it’s still life, and it can still be good….