Why Did I Think This Was a Good Idea?

6:45am, Weds.: Miles bounds into our bedroom, exclaiming, “It’s snowing out of my window! A LOT!”
I think: Crap! I’m flying to Nashville today.

7:00am: School is canceled. Super. I’ve got stuff to pack, stuff to do for my writing class, and now, stuff to figure out with the kids and my trip. I hop in the shower, check my e-mail, then head downstairs so C. can get ready for work.

8:00am: The kids are bouncing around in their PJs and C.’s shoveling the walk. I call the sitter, the school, and 2 potential playdates and reschedule. In between, I remember things I need to pack and run up and downstairs finding them. I haven’t had my coffee yet.

9:00am: C. leaves for work, I turn the TV off and force the kids to come eat breakfast. The usual mayhem ensues.

10:00am: My flight is canceled. I begin to panic. The kids are running amok, still in their PJs. I debate throwing in the towel on this whole conference, but I don’t think I can get my money back. C. urges me to get on the phone with US Airways and rebook my flight.

10:30am: While I am on hold, Riley hits Miles in the head with a Matchbox car and Miles wails. “WAAAAAHHHH!!! HE HIT ME!!” At that exact moment, the ticket agent picks up. “Miles, PLEASE. Go to your room for a second, I’ll be right there,” I stage-whisper. “Another flight leaving at 3:30? Sure, great.”

Then Riley comes into the room, his hand covered with a goopy white substance. “Cweem?” He got into the diaper rash cream. He smears it on the couch. Awesome. “Connecting in Charlotte? OK, I’ll take it.”

11:00am: We all bundle up and go outside to build a snowman.

Noon: Lunch and hot chocolate.

1:30pm: I drop the kids off at a neighbor’s until C. can pick them up after work. With school canceled and an earlier flight, I have no choice. I feel guilty about it. I pray the baby will nap.

2:15pm: The airport shuttle driver is named Kesha. I wonder if this is a bad sign.

3:30pm: I board the plane and discover I am in the very last row. Super.

4:30pm: Bumpiest flight EVER. Did I mention I get sick on planes? Lucky for my seatmates I’m in the last row, right next to the bathroom.

5:25pm: I have to sprint through the enormous Charlotte airport to catch my connecting flight. No time for a drink or gum. Sorry, seatmates.

6:55pm: As the plane’s landing, I find out a couple people near me are also going to Blissdom. One has a cute baby with her. We chit-chat briefly, then go our separate ways.

7:30pm: I find the hotel shuttle, but have no ticket or cash. The driver takes pity on me. I get on the bus and sit by myself. I call home and cry. I am sick, tired, hungry, and miserable. I want to go home.

8:00pm: I get to the hotel. It’s like Atlantic City, Disneyworld, a mall, and a giant greenhouse rolled into one. The desk clerk tells me how to get to my room and I joke that I feel like Dora the Explorer: go over the stone bridge, through the rainforest, and down the magnolia hallway. I’m only kind of joking. The place is GINORMOUS. I wish I had Boots the monkey to keep me company.

8:45pm: I’m about to pass out from hunger. There’s a welcome party for the conference going on somewhere, but I look and feel like crap. It’s the last thing I want to do. I call my husband, who urges me to go. I put on some makeup and a fresh shirt, plaster on a fake smile, and head out.

9:00pm: Big shock, I’m lost. A supernice hotel employee walks me to the party, which it turns out is in a separate WING, past the rainforest, around the lake and through the village. I’m not joking.

9:15pm: I get a glass of wine and some cheese and stand around like an idiot. Then I recognize this guy (the keynote speaker, as it happens) and introduce myself. He is very nice, and introduces me to 2 bloggers whose names I recognize. They politely talk to me. I excuse myself to look for more food. I introduce myself to the only other person I see standing around by herself. She’s very nice, and for the first time all day I feel like myself.

9:30pm: Exhaustion and hunger overtake me. I go buy a slice of pizza and take it back to my room. I briefly wonder why I decided to fly 700 miles from home to attend a conference with a bunch of strangers when I could have gone to a spa with my friends. (Well, not that that was an option, but STILL.) Oh, yeah. Because I want to learn stuff. Right.

This self-improvement stuff is HARD. It’s awkward, stressful, and exhausting. Then again, so’s giving birth and I did that twice, right? Maybe the fun part will start tomorrow.

SHOUT-OUT O’ THE WEEK: I am so, so grateful to all the people who stepped up to offer help and support with the kids, this trip, etc. Good friends and acquaintances alike. And not least, my wonderfully supportive hubs and parents. I love you!

PIC O' THE DAY: This is the hotel. For real.