Victory... Success

My big kids have a step mom.
And she has a very big family.
And so they have step, brothers, sisters, nieces, uncles, aunts and Grandma Sybil and Grandpa Roger. And they have been very "genuinely" accepting of my kids. Both emotionally and monetarily. Mostly monetarily. For which I will be eternally grateful.

Anyway, Grandpa Roger died last Saturday. And so Sybil flew the enire family including MY KIDS to Arizona. (I thought it was so nice of her to include them) There were about 20 family members on the same plane. And Allie was included in the group. For those of you who have followed my blog from the beginning... let me refresh your memory of Allie and her last experience on a plane... Read here for a big laugh. And please notice the look on her 6 year old face.

So, their step brothers picked them up this morning at 10:00 am. And then because I just couldn't bring myself to trust her, at all, I put all three of my babies in the car and drove behind them, minding my distance so that they wouldn't see me and think that I was a crazy person. I circled the airport for over an hour wasting upwards of $50.00 in gas, while the girls watched Nemo and ate McDonalds pancakes and Ryker slept. I was a nervous wreck.

I was waiting for or better yet, was completely expecting, a text from Brayden informing me that she once again had created a "terrorist like" scene and they were kicking her off of the plane again.

I don't know what I would have done if she would have done that.

Can you just imagine me...

Parking the car, unloading all three children, putting two of them in the umbrella strollers that are always in the trunk, tucking my 13 pound baby's car seat in the crook of my arm while I try to push TWO strollers simultaneously through the airport in my yoga pants and flip flops and HUGE tee shirt that I swiped from Raleigh's drawer with a big nasty U on it. I'd approach the check in desk, where by now, I'd be hysterically bawling because of sheer exhaustion and demand that they give me some sort of parental pass through check in so that I could continue the nightmare. Then I would have to undress myself and all three children and probably unwillingly submit to have one or all of them body scanned because if there was ever a group of people who could possibly pose a threat to the Salt Lake Airport it would be the 4 of us. Next I would set off on the journey of frantically forging my family through never ending, hallways devoid of people-moving-escalators (because Southwest isn't worthy of people-moving-escalators) but they are filled with judgmental people who have nothing better to do but watch me trying desperately to get to my out of control daughter. Stopping every ten steps to reposition everything and everyone, hushing one or two of them, wiping away tears of embarrassment, strollers going every which way, not behaving because I only paid 8.99 for them. And heaven help the child when and if I finally made it to the gate, which I'm sure was B-14, the furthest one possible. I promise you I would have lost my ever loving mind on her. And they would have had to call security to come and escort me through the airport in handcuffs. With only half of my children following behind me being carried by numerous airport personnel, and they would have sorrowful faces because their mother is nuts. And all of the BYU loyalists would be saying "of course it would be a UTE that would cause a scene like that" (hee hee.)

Well...

Luckily for her and for ME, I am overjoyed to report that I just got the text from her and Brayden and Morgan and brother Gavin and Eric that she has landed in sunny AZ. and had the time of her life flying. I am so relieved. Miracles really do occur. If you wait for them for like 4 years.