30 hours in the car or 4 hours on a plane with 2 kids...

...it's a toss up.

We finally all made it to Virginia. Jon drove and I flew with the boys.

Here's how it all went down...

After finishing up the yard late Saturday night, we headed to Logan for Mother's Day. We had a great time visiting with lots of family. We went back home early Monday morning to pack up the house and load the car. We also had to have the house clean by 7:00 the next morning (Tuesday) because the people renting our house for the summer were going to be there. I pulled an all-nighter and Jon went to bed super late, especially late considering he dad to start his drive early Tuesday morning. Somehow, we got everything done and I got back up to Logan around 8:00 Tuesday evening. I spent a couple days there with family.

Friday morning, we headed to the airport. But in true Megan fashion, we were late. Our flight left at 8:42 am. We arrived at the airport around 8:00. We did curbside check-in to save time, but we still needed to park the car and go to the counter to get my mom a security pass so she could help me to the gate (I had a double stroller, two car seats, and two carry-on bags, oh and a 7-month old and 2 1/2 year old). The man at the check-in was a saint. He grabbed my mom's ID, went in and got her pass for her, all while she went and parked the car. Hopefully I will see him again sometime so I can tip him even more.

We gathered everything up and headed to the security line. Being a Friday morning, it was so crowded. We waited in line forever. We finally reached the belt and started loading everything on. I took the kids out of the stroller which upset both of them. I had to put Ethan's trains in the bin, which really upset him. Then we had to take his shoes and jacket off, which really, really upset him (we were definitely providing entertainment for onlooking parents and birth-control for everyone else). We finally got through the metal detector and were ready to grab our stuff off the belt. But our stuff never came. Apparently some lady had something in her bag that they needed to retrieve for security reasons. So they start unloading her bag on the conveyor belt. It's 8:33, my plane is set to leave in 9 minutes. I'm OK with the fact that they need to do their job, that's to be expected, but do it somewhere else. Don't hold up the whole line. Finally, our stuff came through. I grabbed Ethan's arm (he's still screaming and sitting on the ground) and start dragging him. My mom is holding Will, who is also still unhappy. We didn't have enough hands to get everything to the gate. Again we were so blessed with kind, giving people. Some guy grabbed the stroller, someone else picked up the car seats and we all ran to the gate. Somebody else had ran ahead to tell the gate we were coming. I get there and the guy at the check-in counter says, "the flight is ready to leave, you need to get on, NOW!" Thank you, I'm trying. I picked up Ethan and his seat and rushed on (I didn't even say goodbye to my mom). Someone else, not sure who, brought Will on. As I'm walking down the aisle, bumping the arms of all the coveted aisle-sitters with Ethan bawling, "I want Bama Sue, I want Bama Sue", I see all the annoyed looks from the other passengers. How dare I hold up their flight. I finally get to my row and look at the guy sitting in the aisle. I get the "oh, please say she's not sitting by me" look. I say to them, "I have two seats here, and one over on that aisle." Some guy in the other row says, "We want the one that doesn't cry!" Ha, that would be neither. Luckily, the flight attendants came to the rescue and made the guy in my row move to another seat. Which he wasn't too happy about, unless he got to sit first-class. Sure buddy, sit with my screaming child, that's your choice. Finally we sat down, I strapped the boys in their seats, gave both of them Binky's and I enjoyed pacifier bliss...for a few minutes.



Aside from a few minor mishaps, the flight went pretty well.

After the flight ended, I let everyone else get off first. I had the help of two flight attendants and one another guy pushed the car seats in a wheel chair (hmmm??). One lady handed Ethan to Jon, who was at the gate waiting for us, and said very boldly, "You owe your wife dinner!"

My dad, so wisely, keeps saying, "This is all journal material".