After at least a month of packing, possibly more, I left my home Tuesday morning (at 4:45). I took my two kids with me. Grandma, who had come for my last push of packing, came with us. I left my husband to finish packing, finish his job, and put all of our thing in storage before driving to my parents. I will fly to my parents' home soon. For long time followers of this blog, exactly two years previously, we put all our stuff into storage while moving into someone's basement. Both times it was because one chapter of our life closed before the next opened. (Would we call this not a prologue or epilogue, but logue?) It is just as hard the second time.
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At the airport, I was holding Babs, and Grandma was pushing Kiddo in the stroller. A TSA employee came up to us specifically to tell me that Babs looked exactly like her Grandma, and nothing like me.
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In our packing, we ran across another clear plastic backpack. I thought it would be adorable if both girls had one as we walked through the airport. While a nice idea, I failed to account for the fact that Babs' balance is not up to a backpack, no matter how light. Putting it on her caused her to fall over enough that I just took it off. Maybe next time.
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For the last long while, every time we've gone to our grocery store, Kiddo spends time looking at "the big girl stuff" which is the aisle section devoted to toys (also oatmeal and fruit snacks, so we go there a lot). I've never bought her anything from there. We go to the grocery store too often for her to expect a toy each time.
But as we were leaving, and we wanted something special for the plane, Grandma took us to the grocery store, and bought her a big girl toy: a polly pocket car, girl, and accessories. Kiddo was excited beyond belief. She carried the unopened package all afternoon. She slept next to her polly pocket. She never let it out of her sight.
And then at the airport, she had to put it through the x-ray machine. There was much weeping and wailing. And then some more. And some screaming. No matter how I explained it, or I tried to talk to her about it, or a TSA employee tried to help, she just cried harder about not letting go of her backpack. After multiple tries, I was done. I snatched the backpack out of her hands, placed it on the belt, said "this is how it works," and herded her towards the people x-ray. Stunningly (miraculously) she stopped crying, and went through security.
A thoughtful employee on the other side of security tried to encourage her for being brave, but the reminder of the separation was too harsh, and she started wailing again. I smiled and said "we'll be leaving now" and hoped she would calm soon (which she did).
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Our seat assignments were two center seats in row 7 and 8. No employee was able to fix this, and sit me next to my three year old. They told me I would have to trade with someone. I was very overwhelmed. I took advantage of seating for families with small children to establish me and my child next to each other. When the man showed up who had the window seat, and I asked him to sit one row back in the middle seat, it was clear that he was not excited about the idea. But I was unwilling to move until he actually said no. He silently sighed, then said okay, and moved back. I am grateful that his better nature won through, and he let me sit next to my child. I hate going through this process so often when I fly. Just assign me to a seat next to my kid.
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After a long, but uneventful, flight, then a thrilling bus ride (if you're three), and a ride in Grandma's silver car, we finally got here. And here will stay, visiting family and friends for the next week.
Tonight Babs was crying, because she'd been up, with only a 20 minute nap, for 12 hours. I was trying to bathe her given how much time she'd spent running around outside today. Kiddo asked why she was crying. Did I say she wanted to go home? I told Kiddo, no, I said she wanted to go to bed. And I thought, she probably is crying because she wants to go home, but that's too bad, because there is currently no home to go to.
I am exceedingly grateful for excellent family, who will provide us with one until we have a new one to go home to.
