No Babies Allowed.

In  just a few hours I will be dropped off at the airport and I will be alone. Me. Armed only with a jacket, crossword, and carry-on bag. No wrestling with car seats or pack n’ plays. No waiting in that never-moving line to get an infant boarding pass. Only one pair of shoes to take off. No testing baby formula or juice. No fighting to keep toddlers in seat belts. No worrying about in-flight diaper changes or spilled juice. I can even have a drink if I want.

Awesome.

Gasp! But don’t you love your kids, Jessielah? Won’t you miss them? Yes and Yes.

However.

When the boys and I flew from Dallas back to San Diego, Jaxon and I were recovering from a nasty stomach virus and Mylo was still sick. The adult to child ration was extremely unbalanced which made for a nightmare of a flight. Jaxon pitched a fit every time I tried to fasten his seat belt, to the point that he was just screaming bloody murder and I was physically restraining him from sliding out of it. Meanwhile Mylo was squirming around on my lap, touching and grabbing the weirdo next to us, who kept hitting on me while hitting me up for baby aspirin and bothering me with small talk… Yes, thanks for telling me that my husband is a lucky man. I almost explained that currently I had more than my fair share of men in my life right now and wasn’t taking applications for more. Bleck.

So yes, while I love my children, I will be relishing every second of alone time. Until I land and have to call and hear their sweet, unintelligible voices. =)

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