Andru and Alijah left for New York Tuesday morning, and I feel like they have been gone an eternity already. This is the longest stretch of time that I will be away from Alijah since he was in the hospital for 11 weeks after he was born 2 1/2 years ago. I don't know if I can take the withdrawal.
After the harrowing trip all alone with a two year old that has discovered the independence of his own two legs since the last time we flew, they finally made it to their destination after the most awful trip in recorded history. There were moments I imagined that their plane had gone down, or that they were sitting in the airport, disheveled and too tired to move. Andru emailed from the plane that the flight would be delayed for take-off for an hour because of inclement weather in N.Y. but that they could choose to get off the plane as long as they took all their belongings with them. Do these airline pilots not have kids? What are they thinking? After lugging an awkwardly huge carseat, a laptop bag, and a diaper bag, as well as trying to keep a hold of a 2 year old that just wants his freedom, the last thing a parent wants to do is try and maneuver all of that mess
off the plane just to turn around 15 minutes later (because it took 45 minutes just to get off the plane) to get back on the dang thing again. My poor boys, they had only the snacks I had packed for Alijah- a granola bar, raisins, grapes, and a pudding cup to keep sustained.
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