A 30 minute layover...

The day after school got out for summer, I left for my parents' new home in Kerrville, Texas with the three kids...alone...for two weeks.

I wasn't so much nervous about being "on my own" for two weeks with three kids and no real backup.  I was nervous about getting there...and then...getting home.  I had to endure two, two plus hour plane rides on the way there.  No biggie.  We took all three kids from here to Hawaii a year ago, and that trip was WAY longer than this one!  I'm a seasoned air traveler, the daughter of a former fighter pilot gone United Airlines pilot; We flew for free, and we flew frequently.  What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm no stranger to flying.  I am completely comfortable in and around airports/airplanes and all that jazzy stuff that goes along with air travel.  It's the traveling ALONE with KIDS part that scares me. If you have ever parented ANYONE, you can relate.  This fear runs deeper than the fear of heights, the fear of spiders, the fear of death, and kids have no idea that they, in this moment of fear induced weakness, could completely dominate us!

So, I carefully packed DSIs and PSPs and all the cords, headphones, ipods, etc.  I packed snacks.  I packed books.  The flight was great!  We were in the back of the plane.  We landed on time.  I had a 30 minute layover.  That meant that I, after waiting for the line of "all-too-suddenly polite" people letting every stressed out passenger compile their 2.5 bags (even though it was repeated over and over that you were only allowed ONE carry-on bag and ONE "personal item"--whatever the heck THOSE are), would have roughly 20 minutes to find my connection and get on my next plane with three kids.  "Fortunately" for me, my connecting flight was leaving from another terminal.  Also, "fortunately" for me, Darby had a massive meltdown while I was sprinting and trying not to lose all my kids whilst darting through crowds of people, tripping our way down the escalator, and jumping on the train to the next terminal without losing anyone.  At this point, the mentality was, "don't care if I lose everyTHING...so long as we arrive with everyONE."  ...and then we arrived at the gate.  I must have looked "undone," because everyone let me go to the front of the line, where Darby decided to have:

the biggest...
meltdown...
I have endured.

I'm talkin', the girl was on her face, full-blown meltdown, and EVERYONE who had just encouraged me and my entourage to go to the front of the line was now glaring at me (It's amazing how quickly nice strangers turn on you when times get rough).  I can't pretend to be ignorant as to what was going through their heads.  I've been on many a plane with a screaming infant.  They were all hoping to be sitting as far from us as possible.  Actually, I, too, was hoping to be sitting as far away from "us" as possible!  That, and they were all mentally beating me up if this caused them to miss their connecting flights.  There was a lot riding on this unfortunately timed tantrum, and I was the one responsible. 

Darby is very vocal, and, for a two-year-old, she rations very well, so I asked her, "WHAT is it that you WANT?"  (Imagine the disapproving glares after I asked that question to my little bitty redhead)  She looked up through those fake tears and replied, "I want my backpack."  Seriously?  This was all about your...backpack, kid?  So, I sifted through the 15 bags I was carrying.  Alright, it was only two bags.  I'm just adding the necessary amount of drama so you can understand the full weight of this scenario.  That, and it seemed like I was sifting through fifteen bags as all my fellow air travelers began rolling up their sleeves and clenching their fists.  I handed Darby her little backpack, strapped it on, and we were on our way.  It was as if the tantrum never happened!  Immediately, the frowns turned upside down.  The piercing looks turned into astonishment, and I went from that mom with the screaming toddler, to, "Sheesh!  That was AMAZING!  How did she DO THAT?", and, "She should write a book on parenting!" 

I claimed victory over a two-year-old's tantrum at gate A-37!
I am a victor...
...A champion. 
...A dominator.

No need to sing, "We Shall Overcome"!
I.
DID.
OVERCOME!!!
...and we MADE IT TO TEXAS!
...and back!