[su_heading size=”18″]Recovering From Flying With Children[/su_heading]

I wouldn’t say that we made it home from visiting Grandma in Florida without incident. The fact that we made it home at all is very significant. The turbulence was brutal and I was reduced to an absolute useless mess while my boys searched for land through the airplane windows. I saw the sun again and realized that we had gained altitude. What the???? The pilot announced that it was too windy to land anywhere, not Vail, not Denver, not Steamboat so we were just going to hover at 40,000′ up in limbo. Greaaaattt. I had been through this before, nothing worse than hovering when three boys have to pee and the seatbelt sign is on.

Walking back to our seats I looked at all the innocent and beautiful children and parents on the flight and felt miserable for the people who had died in airplane crashes. I hate flying! We tried to land again and plunged down into the black storm clouds. I thought about Baddy and tried to force out the image of his hearing the news that his entire family was gone. I thought about my mother and how much I loved her and needed to express that to her. I thought about my boys and how I needed to watch them grow up.