The journey back home

Here's some advice. Don't EVER fly stand by, husbandless, with 2 small children, in July. Just don't do it. Save yourself the stress, grief, and sweet, precious, TIME, and buy a regular old ticket. It's just not worth it. A big shout out to our wonderful family for letting us crash at their house for a few days (Lesha), and for driving us to and from the airport several days in a row (Wendy and Brenda). That's right. We spent THREE long days in the airport before we got on a flight home. The good news: we had someone to pick us up at the end of each day and take us to a comfortable, free,  place to sleep. The bad news: Our luggage made it back to Dallas on the first day with all of our clothes. Sooo, we had to wear the same clothes for 3 days in a row :) I actually don't think I've worn the pink dress I had on since. I look at it and shudder at the thought. Luckily I had extras for the boys in my carry on. But I was stuck. In the same pink dress for THREE long days. Not sure what I was thinking.

(Wish it could have been me taking the nap)

Looking back now I can kind of laugh. But at the time it was devistating. I missed Jared, the kids hadn't seen their dad in 3 weeks, I had a stroller, 3 heavy carry on's, a toddler who wouldn't stay by me, and a very, very bored 5 year old.

I was done being a single mom and we all needed the comfort of our own lives back. And for any of you wondering, crying does not get you your way. I am not an emotional person, at all. But I think I started bawling every time those dang gate checkers denied me. I was an emotional wreck by this point in our vacation and so, so ready to be done. On one of the days I refused to pay the $4 to use the luggage cart (seriously, what a rip off!!!). The carry on's were too heavy for Parker and we had left the stroller in Nana's car. So I was carrying 3 heavy bags, gripping Tage's hand for dear life, and trying to rush around the airport from gate to gate giving my sob story to anyone who looked like they might have sympathy and get me on a plane. No luck. I was at my worst. So I threw my bags down, threatened the boys with their lives if they moved, slid into one of those old phone booths, and cried like a baby. I couldn't believe that I was the freak show that everyone was watching. You know how the airport is usually fun because you can people watch and make fun of all the crazies you see? Ya, I was the crazy. And nobody ever offered to help me (probably because they were scared). They just stared.

(Watching a movie)

(I chased him all around the airport while he pushed an empty stroller. But it kept him from screaming!)

We finally got on the last flight on the 3rd day. We were just a little more than excited.

And the boys were even more excited to see their daddy!

Texas has never been so welcoming :)