This was the first thing I bumped into as I got my Internet connection working in my new home, and I was touched and so happy. It felt like a good omen. Like a house warming. So thank you, Jenn. Even though we're not in the same time zone anymore, we're are still in the same zone!
Speaking of time zones, I'm writing this from mountain time. My head is aching from the remnants of an 8 hour time change, and my nose still hurts from the gross dry air that they assault you with on airplanes. My children and I were traveling on June 29, which as it turns out was the day of a terrorist attack in Europe (Scotland? England? I am still in traveler's bliss, and haven't seen a newspaper or newscast since I left Italy). All I know is that our voyage took us over two days and four airplanes. We arrived in Toronto after a nine hour flight and missed our connection. One of our bags had literally exploded due to the bizarre baggage carousel in that airport. The bags basically come tumbling down a chute and wind up piled on top of one another until a huge bag jam results, and the unlucky bags on the bottom explode. Literally explode. Ours was one of five.
We then spent the night in an airport hotel, and were booked on the 7am flight the next morning. My children were exhausted, cranky and coughing. This was our first transatlantic trip without my husband, and even though they tried to be little soldiers, the absence of MacGyver was a nightmare. He always carries the bags, always takes the middle seat, and most importantly, always keeps the kids under control. I'm not a bad mother, I'm just a spoiled mother.
When I approached the check-in counter the next morning at 5:30am, the perky girl smiled and said, "I'm sorry, but your flight has been cancelled. We've managed to rebook you, though. You're booked through Cincinnati to Denver at 4pm." bright smile as if she had done me a big favor...
That's when it happened. I started to cry. Not a few tears, but a big, hearty, snotty, red-faced sobbing cry. My two zombie children became so alarmed when they saw me that they also started to cry! I had reached that point of no return. That point of saying I can't be the grown-up here! I can't cope! I just can't!
That kind of emotional meltdown usually makes the person in front of you willing to do anything to make you go away, which is how I managed to get my kids and I on a flight to Chicago, then to Denver, via another airline company that same morning. They really wanted me to go away!
So I'm here. I'm exhausted. I'm scared. I miss my husband so much that it is a physical pain, like a thorn in my foot, making me limp. He arrives on Thursday, so I'm looking at two more days of clinging children and boring cooking.
I at least have you, my readers, for which I am truly oh so lucky.