Over the Hills and Thru Security, to Gigi's House we (now) go

If I ever ever ever mention the possibility of boarding a plane again, y'all have my permission to mock, scold, and/or refer me back to this particularly over-wrought, fraught, excessively dramatic little vacation of mine.  Though it might be like childbirth - the memory of the pain subsides and you're left with the cute baby vacation photos.   

Reaching home base has been abandoned.  We've now hit hour eight of trying to reach Gigi's, so we don't have to sleep in random airport.  She was more excited about the idea when we were going to arrive at 10:40am, not 4:30pm.  My son is stretched out on the terminal floor using my pretty scarf as a blanket - and he's insisting his nasty Sketchers be covered up too.  I don't care enough to argue with him about either the shoes or the floor.  The girl is on viewing 113 of Signing Time and I've spent well over $20 at Starbucks, plus $16 on two hamburgers.  The bag of chocolate easter eggs also seems to have been decimated by person or persons unknown.

Matt assures me that as soon as we find my daughter's birth certificate tend to some administrative issues we'll have much better options (read:  direct flights) but I'm going to circle back 'round to paragraph #1. 

I also remember thinking that the boy's spring break was exceptionally early but, as it turns out, it coincides with Peak Travel Time.  So in the unlikely event of an actual re-emergencyt (see what I did there?  No?  *sigh* am probably not at my most coherent right now)  ...So in the unlikely event of renewed wanderlust, I'll just pull him out of school, wunder-mother that I am.

Anyway, yes, massive sinkhole of self pity right now.  It'll pass.  As Cate's sign says, Keep Calm and Carry On.