Traveling Alone... Sort of

Alone with kids? Okay, so not really alone. Tony was not with us because he had to work through the week. Tony got to fly legitimately alone while I had the awesome pleasure of flying with 3 kids by myself. It really wasn't that bad. But if you know me well at all you know that I get anxious about things unknown. Like extremely anxious. You'll hear more of those stories at a later time. All I could think about for the weeks leading up to our trip was the movie The Deep End Of The Ocean. The one where Michelle Pfeiffer loses one of her children at the airport while juggling all the bull shit that comes with traveling with so many dependent humans at Christmas time.

I played over and over in my head how all of the logistics of this traveling charade would look so I would be prepared to not lose Chloe. Let me be real, she's the small one in the picture. She thinks she is bigger than the world and doesn't need her mommy holding her hand or keeping her confined to a stroller. If anyone would get lost, it'd be her. Fast forward to the day before our trip, we are doing our family gathering with my husband's side. 2 kids are there that had been throwing up within the last 12 hours. Well I think we all know what I was playing in my head now. It went like this:

We are all sitting on the plane when ALL 3 of my children begin vomiting all over me, each other, and the passengers that surround us. People are pissed. Of course it is a full plane so we cannot be quarantined. We have to deal with side eye the whole 4 hour flight. A lady gets super pissed and starts screaming at us and a flight attendant has to get between this irate human and myself to protect us from being assaulted. Tweet storms begin! We go viral, we end up on the news. I have to quit my job. We never leave the house again. The End.

Of course that is not what actually happened. It was relatively uneventful. No one was sick on the plane. How I kept our stuff straight: