When Pigs Fly

That is when I will get on another airplane by myself with all my kids.

Worst. Flight. Ever.

Caroline and I thought it sounded like a good idea to take all 6 of our kids (ranging from 2 1/2 months to 6 1/2) by ourselves to Utah to visit Grandma and Grandpa. They were absolute angels on the way out there and we were pretty proud of ourselves. The week was wonderful - doing fun things, eating good food, seeing good friends.

But we payed for it on the way home. Let's recap, shall we?

Night before leaving:
Ryan (4 year old nephew) throws up at a wedding reception
Luke wakes up in the middle of the night throwing up
***everyone is pretty chipper and feeling good the next day so we hope that it'll okay. What fools we were.

Trip home:
*We booked the flight for 5pm, not thinking about the fact that the kids were exhausted and without naps. Thus, everyone starts out super cranky
*We stopped by Temple Square so were running a little bit late. We get to the rental car place 65 minutes before flight is leaving.
*After Caroline and I unload all our millions of bags, carseats, random stuff and load up into the stroller, I turn around to see that Lily has thrown up. Everywhere. All over herself and the stroller.
*We run into the airport, I throw my naked baby in the sink and hose her down. She is not amused.
*By now we have 50 minutes until the flight leaves. We haven't even started through security.
Caroline and I check in (I by now am close to tears). The kids are sitting with Grandma and Grandpa.
*I return to find a random Asian couple, who speaks no English, taking pictures of my sick, naked, fat little baby in her stroller.
*They then bring their approximately 11 year old grandson, who also speaks no English, to see said sick, naked, fat little baby. He stares and points with his hand over his mouth.
*I am no longer just close to tears.
*Now we head to security, amidst much whining, and make it through. Hooray. 30 minutes to go till the flight.
*We make it to the gate, get on the flight (dragging 12 total carry-ons and 6 tired children). Our seats are not all next to each other (3 sets of 2, though they are close) so Ryan and Luke sit by themselves. They happen to be sitting next to the most lovely pediatrician from Salt Lake, who entertained them and held babies literally the entire flight. Bless you!
*We are doing okay for the first 1 1/2 hours. Evie falls asleep, Calvin (2) is entertained with a box full of fruit snacks, Luke and Ryan are playing and coloring and watching movies. Phew.
*1 hour to go. Lily starts throwing up again. Everywhere. All over me, my shorts, herself, the bags on the floor, the airplane. And Evie.
*Evie wakes up crying because she has puke on her head, her face, and in a puddle on her seat.
*The exceptionally unhelpful flight attendants hand me a few wet paper towels. Which do not even come close to being adequate for the lake of baby vomit on the floor of their airplane, let along on my 3 year old daughter.
*We clean up Lily. And Evie. And me. Said pediatrician holds babies and entertains the boys.
*Sophie (2 1/2 months) is crying because her ears hurt.
*We start to land. Lily throws up again. She is sad. Sophie's ears hurt. The other passengers are ready to strangle us.
*We land. So close!
*Calvin throws up everywhere.
*The exceptionally unhelpful flight attendants stare at us with rather annoyed looks while we clean up Caroline, clean up Calvin, attempt to hold 2 crying babies, load all of our millions of carry on bags and usher 6 children off of the airplane.
*We make it home, sleep for about a week, and decide that it is much funnier a week later.

Can you beat that?