Today, I braved an airport with three children six and under, with a husband in pain and medicated from a bad tooth.
It was delightful in so many ways!

But let me back up.

So I worked like a person trying to have a heart attack all week long, I squeezed an extra five people into every single afternoon, and felt like a limp, squeezed out dishrag by the time I got home.

So because the week was so busy, I found myself racing around the house packing everything for our trip at 630. 

Now, the same way I can’t handle a car with only a quarter tank of gas, I absolutely need to be at the airport a solid hour before my plane boards.

Not before my plane leaves. Before it boards. That’s a horribly stressful concept for me.

So needless to say that when we didn’t even leave the house until almost ten this morning for our 11:30 plane and it was SNOWING outside, I almost choked.

I took deep breaths and stayed at a slow simmer of anxiety all the way to the park and go, and when we arrived at the terminal at 1100 to find out our plane was delayed, I relaxed 

(a smidgen)

The kids were overjoyed to see the plane mobiles that they could wind up and fly, and I watched as they raced back and forth. Alexis ran around in circles chasing it, and likely would have continued all day.

The plan ride went better than hoped- ipads and iPhones are miraculous. They worked amazingly with the two older ones, but Matt still got bored and tried to run the plan a few times. 

I was at the point where I was ready to yell at him (he makes a high pitched, horrible noise when he wants something from you, which is every two seconds lately) when they paged for a medical person.

Ugh. 

It struck me as completely impossible that I was the only person on the plane who was medical. They didn’t even specify doctor- they said nurse, paramedic, anyone- and only me, the crazy woman in the front trying to corral a two year old- volunteered.

Truth was, at that moment, I was actually happy to have a break. Although it was still terrifying, I can’t deny it. 

Luckily, we landed twenty minutes or so later, paramedics took my emergency away and we headed to a lovely Airbnb.

(Seriously lovely. Way too nice for my kids to be in.)

A late pizza and the usual bedtime refusals later we were all snuggled into our cozy beds, ready to explore Toronto together. 

Ps- I still like flying alone with carryon much better. I never have medical emergencies unless I fly with others.