The alarm went off at 4:45 this morning. We were in the car at 5:30, headed to the airport in the dark.
This wasn’t my first time flying solo with all three kids, but it remains a major undertaking. Heck, the 5-year-olds are pretty easy. They know what to do, they entertain themselves with books and movies and video games. Ellie, on the other hand, is solidly in my least favorite age for traveling. Big enough that she wants to GO GO GO, but too little to understand why she can’t. And, worst of all, too young to zone out with a movie for an hour.
The good and bad is that she is recovering (slowly) from a stomach bug. So while she was a little grumpy and uncomfortable, she was also sleepy and a bit lethargic. So at least she was content to doze off a few times and otherwise just snuggle.
Honestly, it all went just fine. I happily soaked up the compliments on their behavior from pleasantly-surprised strangers, and we will spend the next few days with salty hair and bare feet.
And then I get to do it all over again on the way home. Way to kill any sense of relaxation I might find on vacation, huh?