Oh Boy, Oh Boy, Oh Boy!

The journey home from vacationing in Colorado includes an hour and a half van ride to the airport, checking in bags, boarding the plane, a two hour flight, calling for a ride home, one hour drive home which includes dropping Matt off at his home before heading home, unpacking, and if god wills it, sleep.

This is difficult without children, but it is almost unimaginable with three kids, one of which is Michael.  Michael is two in every sense of the word.  He is head strong, loud, and in the process of potty training. 

The van ride to the airport was difficult.  All the boys wanted attention so were making as much noise possible to get it.  At one point, seeing I was about to explode, Sarah told me to wait eight minutes before I turned around.  Time seemed to stop, I bit my tongue, I tasted blood and the clock stood still.  I don't know how I made it 8 minutes but I did and almost magically the roaring from the back seat quieted.

We checked our bags and entered the airport.  We were hungry and already tired but there was a line, and I'm not lieing, the length we just drove.  We waited 55 minutes to pass through security that made us all take off our shoes.  I hate taking my shoes off; Sarah makes me wait until all lights are out at home before she will let me take my shoes off.

Our hunger was the next need to be addressed.  Nate, Mike, Anthony, and I sat down at a dirty table waiting for Sarah to buy the boys a "Happy Meal".  What a terribly misnamed dinner.  I think a better name would be "Crappy meal with lame toy".  During our feeding, Michael pored his chocolate milk down his shirt.  I mean he got his entire shirt.  It was soaked.  So here is the scene, Mikey is crying, Sarah is swearing holding Mikey at arms length, Ant and Nate are stuffing themselves with some fried food, and I'm throwing every paper napkin I can find at Mike and his pool of chocolate milk.  Of course we have no other change of clothing for Mike.  Sarah decides to throw away the soaked shirt and replace it with his sweatshirt.

We have 15 minutes before boarding the plane so Sarah suggests we all go use the bathroom.  I mentioned that Mike was potty training and the word "Bathroom" must have reminded him he needed to go because he starts peeing.  He pees through his diaper, down his pants soaking his socks and filling his shoes.  Sensing I can be no help to this situation, I round up the older two boys into the bathroom.  When we get out of the bathroom, I see Sarah and Mike.  If you know Sarah, you know how hard this was for her; Mike is just wearing a diaper, nothing else, and is running around singing some Raffi medley. 

The remainder of the trip was fine.  The boys were appropriate, charming, and silly.  Sarah looked at me just as we were sitting down and actually smiled in that "We are really going to laugh about this some day" kind of way.  I returned her smile thinking I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.