We're leaving on a jet plane...

Well actually we are already gone. I blog to you live from Woodbridge, VA. I came out to attend three days of meetings for work. Since the kids are off track, I decided it would be fun to bring them out to my parent's house and spend the week. Chad couldn't come, but I thought that would be ok. I could bring them out myself. I had to take a minute and recount our trip out here, as it is one of those experiences I'm going to tuck away under my I'm way- too - independent - for - my - own - good file.

Traveling Gals...

The girls and I have flown a lot and all things considered they are pretty good travelers. There was one unfortunate flight to California where a 2 year old Grace screamed the ENTIRE time. Not like, 'oh I'm so sad, I need to cry a little and get my feelings out.' No this was a very angry, very loud screaming. If I remember correctly no one on the plane stood up when we reached the gate, so I could get off the plane first. It was my most embarrassing parenting moment - I don't like to talk about it.

There was also the time I got on the plane with Grace when she was about 10 months. I was thankfully very close to the front. I got on last and as I was going to sit down I managed to whack Grace's little head into the overhead compartment. I kid you not, every person on that plane sucked in a giant breath (you know the kind when you stub your toe) and went ooooooowwwww. To which I turned and assured the plane, "she's fine. She has a really hard head."

Utah to Virginia

This trip was not without its humor. Our seats weren't together and though I tried to get the gate agent to switch us, she couldn't. The flight was completely packed. Brynn and I sat together (middle and window) and Grace in the middle seat right in front of us. As we approached our seats, I saw the man in our row had his newspapers folded quite fastidiously across the tray table. He was pretty nestled in when we arrived and desperately trying to avoid eye contact with me. Uh huh, as if not looking at me is going to magically change my seat assignment. Sorry Dude.

I got Brynn settled and put Grace in her seat. I turned to him getting ready to ask if he would mind switching with Grace, but he beat me to the punch and said "I clot."

L: "I'm sorry, what?"

Man: "I clot. I get blood clots."

And then he resumed reading his newspaper. Ok, hello randomness. I haven't even said anything yet. Are you warning me in case you pass out or are you trying to preempt my question? I was about to say something snarky like well "I'm pretty sure you can clot in row 31 as easily as you can clot in row 32." Somehow though I managed to restrain myslef and I just said "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

We all got settled and Grace made fast friends with her two seatmates. She ended up doing fine and keeping herself entertained the entire flight.

Brynn on the other hand - seriously, shoot me. I have never seen one child move so much in such a tiny space. So here's a little rundown on Brynn sit down, stand up, get out her backpack, open it up take everything out, sit down, snuggle with her dog, stand up, put her dog to sleep on the floor, cover the dog with her blanket, sit down, open the window, shut the window, stand up, remove blanket from dog, comfort crying dog, sit down, sing a song, open the window, shut the window, stand up, put everything back in her backpack...and that was just the first 3 minutes! All the moving around filled her body with so much static electricity that her hair was literally standing on end. I know, because several people on the plane very helpfully commented on it.

Lavatory Occupied

Our seatmate got up several times and every time he did, Brynn said she had to go to the bathroom. So the first time I took them both. We went up toward the front of the plane and it seemed everyone had to go to the bathroom. We waited in line and when our turn came I took Brynn in.

Now if you know me you know that I don't use the bathroom on the airplane. I just don't do it. The concept of having to lock yourself into a confined space before the light turns on?!?! Insanity. But not only did I go I took Brynn in with me. I concentrated on not freaking out and she went and washed her hands. We finally open the door ... ah, the sweet relief of freedom!

I say to Grace "go ahead and we'll wait right here for you." "No way" she says. "I can't go in there by myself."

L: "Sure you can. It's fine."

G: (crying) "I can't, mom. I need you to come with me."

L:"Fine."

So I make Brynn swear on her life to stand in a spot by the bathroom door and I go in with Grace. Now stuffing an adult and a 4 year old, espeically a tiny 4 year old like Brynn, into an airplane lavatory turns out to be no where near as terrifying as stuffing an adult and a 7 year old. 7 year olds take up much more space. So I'm about to completly lose it as Grace is trying to use the bathroom. After a minute or two I finally say "Ok, you done?" "Sorry mom," she says "guess I didn't need to go." Of course.

From Wings to Wheels

The rest of the flight proceeded pretty much without incident. We manage to 'deplane,' get our luggage and find the shuttle to the rental car place. I wasn't really concerned about this until I realized I probably couldn't take the little cart holding my 2 suitcases, 4 carryons and 2 car seats onto the shuttle.

Note to reader: This is where I begin to vent...there had to be at least 8 completly able-bodied men sitting on that shuttle. They all stared at me as I tried to corral my kids onto the bus, move my bags, and get rid of my cart. Several of them actually seemed quite disgusted that I was having a hard time. A shuttle worker did eventually come and lift the last couple of my bags onto the bus for me. But guess what happened when the bus arrived at the rental car place? Oh that's right same group of able bodied adults actually stepped over and around our stuff to get out. So not only do I have to unload, manage it and carry it into the car place by myself, but I have to try to do it while manuvering around these other people. I was starting to feel kind of ticked. It's not that I couldn't do it by myself obviously I can (cause I did), but spare me the caustic attitude, will ya?

I continue to corral and haul to the counter, out to the cars all the way up to the kid who is supposed to help you find the right rental car. I'm sweating, I'm tired and I've about reached my patience limit with the children. (Who've been good troopers up until this point, but are now starting to poke each other - hard). Rental Car boy takes one look at me and says "Do you want to take a mini van for the same price?" I look that good huh? I say "seriously, just put me in something with wheels."

We managed to make it out of the airport and all the way to my parent's house with no incident. Had great directions, drove right to it, kids slept the whole time. All in all, it went well, but it was exhausting. I actually started this post that night and was going to end by saying "if I ever think I can take the kids somewhere by myself again - slap me." But much like pregnancy the bad memories are already starting to fade and I'm wondering what I can conquer with them next! :)