Home Again Home Again Jiggety Jig

The trip to Tennessee wasn't really what I had pictured it being. Nothing has changed in the house - Frances's dolls and her things are still all over the house. Her doll houses and her pictures still line the walls. When we were all together I would find myself glancing over my shoulder, wondering who was missing - who was out of the room - and I realized I was missing her, my Aunt Frances. Her things might be there, but there is a definite someone missing.

I had thought the visit would be a lot more... I don't want to say relaxing, but slower paced? I had pictured hours with not much to do but talk and entertain the children. Instead, Luana came down with her two kids and stayed almost the entire time, which was great because my kids loved having playmates. But it was not at all restful. The kids wound each other up and instead of downtime there was a constant flurry of activity and rushing around to grab kids off furniture or steep stairways or barganing with kids about what they could or could not eat, while Betty fed them donuts under the table.

Then, the last day we were there, Nicholas began throwing up. He kept throwing up until nothing was left in his body. I started getting sick later that night, and even though I wasn't puking during our flights back, I was exhausted.

Our trip included a flight change in Philadelphia, a pit of an airport. I will never understand why, when I am taking a connecting flight on the same airline, I am required to walk three miles to the next gate. One would think the airlines would be clumped closer together. Does anyone ever get off their first flight and look across and say "Hey! There's my connecting flight, right across the hall!" No. Instead, we landed in Terminal D, and our connecting flight left from Terminal E. For some reason, primarily, I think, to irritate travelers, we had to EXIT and go through security ALL OVER AGAIN, a fact which no one explained to us (who would, really?) and precious moments were wasted as I kept walking past the correct hallway, thinking "No, that's the way OUT, I just want terminal E."

The security line to Terminal E left the security line room and stretched out and down last the moving walkways. I had 40 minutes to make my flight. I was crying. And some really nice guy who is working at Yellowstone in Montana pulled me into line ahead of him. GREAT GUY! SO nice. Obviously. I wanted to offer him my firstborn child. Except Nicholas was crying and fussing and no one would have taken him.

Once we got to our gate, at the very, very end of Terminal E, we discovered it was delayed. In fact, our flight was still on the ground in Pittsburgh. It would be a couple of hours before we would be able to get on.

Blech.

Anyway, we made it back. I did end up getting sick just as the plane was landing, and just as the flight attendant was asking me for my trash, bringing it to everyone's attention that I was the one throwing up over there, the crazy pregnant lady with the two kids. I must say, I have never had so much help in getting off the plane before. People can be really nice when they think you're going to pass out.

Glad to be home. I slept twelve hours last night. I feel 100%. Almost.