On June 11th I took my sanity (and my kids) on a trip. Not just any trip oh no. This was a 2 day fiasco starting on Friday.
Friday
Friday was a busy day. When preparing to take 2 Fries on an extended vacation to see their grandparents, it's almost assured that things will not go as I planned. Between naps (Small Fry decided he didn't want one until almost 4 pm) and Large Fry unpacking everything I had carefully packed for him over and over, I was ready for a drink. It was only 11 am.
We had to run out numerous times. To the post, to the bank, to the post, to Groom's work, to the store, the store, and every time we left it was the same conversation.
Large Fry: Mommy are we going to Texas yet?
Me: No
Large Fry: I WANT NANA IN TEXAS RIGHT NOW
Lather, rinse, repeat all day Friday. Groom returns home from work and we are all packed up. Only I forgot the library books. No worries, it's on the way. We pull into the library and I say to Groom "I think it's closed but I will see if there is a book drop anyways."
I walk to the library. There is no book drop, but I wonder to myself if there is anyone still in the library. I turn the knob to the door and it's open. I push it all the way open and *WHOO WHOO WHOO WHOO WHOO WHOO WHOO WHOO WHOO WHOO*
Oh yes. An alarm. I set off a fucking alarm. At a library. I'm already inside so I think "Fuck it." I put the books on the desk, walk outside, get into the car and I said "Drive. NOW!" He didn't even ask what the hell I had done. He just drove.
Upon getting to the hotel it was decided that the Fries needed to go to bed. It was 9:30 and we had to be at the airport for 4 am.
What the fuck was I thinking? Little boys+hotel=no sleep. They giggled. They laughed and jumped. We separated them only for them to make MORE noise. Small Fry crashed at midnight. Large Fry went strong until 1 am before crashing on my side of the bed. I had a sliver of bed. I dare not move him. I'm terrified he will wake up and I will be even more fucked than I already am.
Saturday
3:30 comes bright and early. We head to the airport for 4 am and our check-in process is normal until I get to security.
"Oh Ma'am. Your son Large Fry has been selected for special screening". This means because he is a minor we are ALL "special screened". Both boys are swabbed, their carry-on inspected to the hill. I had to go into the x-ray. All with a Small Fry who is screaming, a Large Fry who is running around, and I've had about 3 hours of sleep. I kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for the snap of a latex glove and stern instructions to Bend over.
6 am:
We are boarded and getting ready to fly. I don't know what I enjoyed more:
Large Fry found the flight guide book in the seat pocket and was memorizing it. He then corrected the flight attendant when he got a few points wrong. Score.
45 minutes of nonstop screaming from Small Fry. I don't mean little mouse squeaks. This was screaming as if he needed to get his point across from the airplane to New Zealand. For forty-five minutes. On a 6 am flight.
At one point during the 45 minute screaming, Large Fry was sitting on my lap and he leaned forward and threw his head back, connecting with my nose and causing a nose bleed. Still screaming, I had to make to the airplane bathroom and attempt not to bleed all over me, him, everyone else, and make sure he didn't get away. Somehow I did not get blood all over me and him. A miracle considering the screaming and the nosebleed. He did, however, open the bathroom door. Time: 6:45 am
He got away. He was almost to the cockpit before I caught up to him. The only time in the entire 2.5 hour flight that he was happy.
The Fist fight: They got into a fight over an airline blanket. Smacking and slapping incurred. Fuzz was slapped to the floor. Wails of aggravation from both parties was heard through out the plane. I tried to cover my head with the airline blanket and pretend these children did not belong to me but some invisible woman, but that just pissed both of them off more. Time: 7:15 am.
*I even brought magazines to read. What the fuck was I thinking?*
The Lost Ducky: Large Fry has this small, red duck that he is so very attached to. She was flying with us and he dropped her. She rolled away. Louder wails. Crocodile tears. Fears for Ducky was heard. One person started looking. Then another. Then another. Within 10 minutes, around 20 people were looking for a small, red duck at 8 am in the morning on a jumbo aircraft.
Ducky was recovered by an American soldier 15 minutes later and returned to her rightful place- my pocket until we landed in Amarillo.
The bathroom- I had to use the bathroom and of course Small Fry had to come with me. He almost flushed the toilet while I was on it. I marginally avoided having a blue ass by jumping up and almost face planting into the mirror in front of me.
We land in Denver and board our next flight to Amarillo:
57 minutes of non stop screaming from Small Fry. If you think 45 minutes is long, try 57 minutes. On one of those very small air crafts. The ones that look like a tin can with wings. It still haunts my dreams at night--the sound of non stop screaming. I think it will haunt me forever.
I allowed Large Fry to have a beverage from the beverage cart. He selected OJ and it was on his tray. He was reading the airline book again when Small Fry sprung. He reached down and slapped his hand under the tray. The orange juice and ice went flying all over the woman sleeping in the seats in front of us.
How she did not wake up is beyond me. I want to find her. She must teach me her secrets of sleeping.
We landed. I grabbed our shit and we booked it off that plane. That's the fastest I have ever walked in my entire life.
I was so tired Saturday night that I took a shower and I only shaved one leg. I didn't notice until Sunday morning.
