Looks Like We Made It

Well, we made it. It wasn't pretty, but we made it. Before I get into the nitty gritty details of our trip, here's a list of suggested items to pack if you're considering traveling solo with kids:

- A change of clothes for everyone who will be within a 3-ft. radius of the baby
- 3-4 extra pairs of hands
- Thumbtacks to put on the seat of anyone who watches you struggling by yourself with 2 kids and doesn't lift a finger to help

Also, build in at least 2 extra hours before you have to catch your flight. This will allow for "hypothetical" situations, like the baby having a massive diaper blowout just before you get on the plane.

C. helped us carry our 2 tons of luggage into the airport and watched us go through security. They wouldn't let him go any farther. From behind the rope, he witnessed this: Me holding the boarding passes in my teeth while I tried to fold up the stroller and put it on the conveyor belt along with Miles' massive backback and my even more massive diaper bag, while simultaneously trying to remove my shoes and my son's shoes.

While this was happening, Riley, who was in his carseat on the floor but not buckled in, began to roll out onto the floor. Meanwhile, the impatient woman behind me in line did nothing to help except to push my stuff farther down the conveyor belt.

On the other side, however, a very nice pilot helped me unfold the stroller, clicked the carseat onto it -- the right way! -- and helped Miles put his backpack on. I would have kissed him if my husband wasn't watching.

By this time, we had missed boarding for not only the A group, but most of the B group as well. I was sweating and parched and without snacks of any kind, thinking I'd have plenty of time to buy refreshments before we got on the plane. Wrong. Also, I forgot to put a Pull-Up on Miles. Oy.

So we struggled onto the plane and sat almost all the way in the back next to another very nice Southwest pilot. (Not the one flying the plane, obviously.) I apologized in advance, but he smiled and said he had 2 boys of his own and asked if I needed any help. I barely refrained from weeping at his feet in gratitude.

Throughout the (thankfully) short flight, Miles entertained himself with a coloring book, bags of pretzels and peanuts, and looking out the window. That kid's a champ, I tell you. Everyone cracked up when the plane took off and he shouted, "WHEEEE!!! Blast-off!! This is FUN!" The lady in front of us turned around laughing and said, "That's what we're all thinking."

Riley, on the other hand... I'm sorry to say the friendly pilot may have taken a few kicks to the kidney, gotten his pant leg splattered with spit-up and probably saw more of my boobs than he wanted to. Also, the nap he tried to take? Didn't happen. Sorry, Mr. Pilot!

Even so, when we landed, people around us smiled and one even said, "The kids did great." Obviously they didn't notice the chunks of hair missing from my head where the baby ripped them out, or the enormous pile of pretzel crumbs on Miles' seat. Oh, well. Like I said, we made it.

Our stroller, however, did not. So much for gate checking. We spent an extra hour or so milling around baggage claim dealing with that while Miles tried to surf on the baggage conveyor belt thingy. The stroller was finally delivered to my parents' house at midnight.

Anyway, we're glad we came. We've been to the beach twice, and I can't overstate how wonderful it is to have someone else preparing meals for us. There's a special place in heaven for helpful grandparents. Now, if they could just do something about my kids' ungodly early wake-up time.

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