Home Sweet Home

It had to happen. We had been pushing out luck for weeks.  The law of averages was against me and the girls at this point.  So, I shouldn't have been surprised.  I should have just resigned myself to the fact that this was going to be much harder than I had thought.

You see, in the 6 weeks we were in the U.S. we took a lot of flights.  To see a lot of people.  6 different airports in 4 week.  And, with the exception of having to change airlines the day we left, we had not run into a cancellation, delay, weather situation or snafu of any sort.  In fact, I have never had an easier time with airports and planes.  Even the girls were behaving exceptionally well.  It's like they all (the airline, the weather God's and my children) were in some sort of agreement.  They agreed to take pity on me since I was travelling solo with two kids aged 4 and under.  Pity is OK with me.  With that many flights in so short of a span of time I will take what I can get.  Especially since the stress of flying seems to make Stinkerbell break out in hives.

But it had to happen.  Our luck had to run out.  At least it held until B joined us for the long trek home because the flight to Santiago is never a short one - even if everything goes perfectly (8 hours and 15 minutes from Miami, 10 1/2 hours from Dallas) and it seldom does.  I can't say why, but the flight that leaves from Dallas always seems to be delayed, rescheduled or cancelled.

Why don't you fly out of Miami then, you ask?  Because first and foremost, Dallas is cheaper.  Second, the times that you fly out of Miami (almost midnight) or arrive (4:45 am) are horrendous.  It's bad enough for me at those times of the day, but for the two littlest it is a nightmare.  Third - you still have to get to Miami so, in total travel time, it's all equals out.  Dallas it is.

We left my parents house unsuspecting.  The flight from Denver to Dallas was on time so we squished ourselves in the car and headed down the mountain.  And I mean squished.  With 8 checked bags, 2 kids carry ons, a car seat bag (filled with random things that didn't fit in our checked baggage), 2 computers, my camera bag and a partridge in a pear tree, it was a tight fit getting 4 adults and two kids in without having to tie someonething to the roof.  But we managed.  And we made good time.  Plenty of time to get us through check-in, security and into the Admiral's club with about an hour to spare before boarding.

And here is where it starts falling apart.

I was just finishing my complimentary glass of wine (this is where B travelling for work comes in very handy as he is a gillion miler at the airlines) when B comes in with another glass.  And a refill for him.  He hands me the glass and breaks the news that our plane that was due to land in 20 minutes was diverted.  Not usually a problem as they would just put us on the next flight - except we would miss our connection in Dallas.  No way to make it.  So they started checking on every other possibility.  Send us to Miami - we would get there at 3:30 am and then still had to wait until the next night to leave.  Essentially a 20 hour layover...uh, no thanks.  They could send us to Dallas and just have us stay there until the next flight the next night but they would not put us up.  We could be routed to Columbia, then fly to Peru, then to Iceland, back to Paris and then down again...Not really, but you get my drift.

We chose to just stay in Denver that night (compliments of the airline) and catch an early afternoon flight to Dallas the next day.  I'm flexible.  And even if I wasn't I didn't really have a choice.  So we hit the hotel, got some sleep and didn't have to get up incredibly early to catch our flight.  That was nice.  And it all went swimmingly.  Until...

We landed in Dallas with a pretty good amount of time to kill before our 9 pm flight.  We looked up at the flight board to see what gate we would be leaving from that night.  If you have ever flown through Dallas you know the airport is huge.  It has a sky train to get you from one terminal to another, so you kind of want to be in the vicinity of your gate as soon as possible.  And where there should have been a gate there was nothing.  No gate just a terminal.  Not a good sign but it was still hours before our flight so maybe it wasn't as bad as we thought. But it was although it would be one dinner and a glass of wine later that they finally gave us the news.  Our flight hadn't been cancelled, just delayed.  What???? Yeah, they delayed it until the next morning at 8 am. Semantics at this point since we would be staying in Dallas for the night.  With the prospect of not changing our clothes for the 3rd day in a row at least for B and I (I always travel with a change of clothes and PJ's for the kids on an overnight flight).  But I think the worst part of it all was that our overnight flight turned into an all day flight.  With toddlers, trust me, you would rather take the overnight.  You may not get much sleep but they will and it will keep you from having to entertain them for hours.  Upon hours.  Upon hours.

Finally, on Friday morning (and I mean morning - the flight was at 8 which got us up around 5:15) we were boarded and on our way home.  And then began the task of keeping a 4 1/2 year old and a 3 year old busy for the next 10 1/2 hours.  Yep - we basically had to spend from wake-up to dinner time confined in our seats, very few snacks (depleted over the course of 2 days) and limited entertainment options.  Sounds like something you want to go out and book right now, huh?

It wasn't too bad (she says after two weeks have put some distance between the reality and the memory).  It really wasn't.  But it isn't something I would volunteer to do again.

I let out a huge sigh of relief when we finally had wheels down on Chilean soil.  And then...(you knew there had to be one, right?) they tell us that it will be AT LEAST an hour before we get our bags because they have to fumigate them.  Yep, fumigate.  Chile wasn't happy with the way the airline handled the bags coming into the country and what might be coming in with them (pests, germs etc) and so they had started fumigating them.  Not unusual here (though a first for this airline) but so darned inconvenient.

So, we waited.  And waited.  In all it took over an hour and a half, we still had to go through the customs scanners and did I forget to say that it is way past dinner time, which they did not serve on the plane, so my kids are starving.  As am I.  I am finally starting to lose my patience.  This comedy of errors had gone on about as long as I could take it.  I just wanted to be home.  NOW.

Thankfully our driver was waiting for us and loaded us quickly.  We have about a half hour drive to the house so I settled in, mentally going through what I might have in the cupboard that I could feed the kids and get them into bed before they crashed with empty tummy's.  And then...Oh, yes, And then...we get about 5 minutes from the house and I look up the hill. The road we need to take home is full of dead stopped traffic.  Before I can tell B and the driver not to get off and esentially put us at a standstill, we are already on the on ramp.  I wanted to cry.  We were so close and yet way too far.  I just wanted to have my kids in their beds.  Me in mine.  I look at B and tell him that I don't care how our driver has to do it but he has to get us off of this hill and back on the highway to the next exit.  Again, I. don't. care. how.  Just. Do. It.

And he does.  He gets us to the other on ramp and goes the wrong way down it.  We weren't the only ones doing this highly illegal move so it made me feel a bit better.  Thankfully there was no one trying to come up while we were going down.  It still took us the better part of 45 minutes to manage even this.

Long story even longer - we got home.  At 9:30 pm.  On Friday.  A mere 56 hours after we started.  Almost 2 1/2 days.

I can almost laugh about it now.  Almost.