Our Tuesday was full of doctors visits and disappointment. Let me explain, and the best way to do so is to pretend we're at the dinner table and I'm taking my turn at our nightly ritual: good thing, bad thing. This is when all of us say something good and something bad that happened during the day, but I'm pretty sure that didn't need explaining.
So, the good part of the day was that I got to see our baby girl. I'm convinced that she looks just like my sister Ashleigh who is a total knock-out, so I am perfectly OK with that! Mostly I just can't believe that she's big enough to look like a legitimate baby. Wow, I'm excited to meet that little lady in a few months!
It was also good that T's pediatrician let us borrow an umbrella on our way home from his pre-op appointment because in the 30 minutes we were in her office Mother Nature decided to unleash her fury on NYC. The air had been suffocatingly thick all morning, but boy did that thunderstorm come on quick. As the 3 of us ran home under a little black umbrella Talmage screamed, "Mom, I'm pretty sure this is the year of the thunderstorm!" Which it has been. And normally we don't mind a day to stay indoors and in pajamas, but why oh why oh why did Tuesday have to be such a horribly stormy day?
Cue tiny violin music, a pity party and the bad thing portion of our discussion.
I woke to a voice mail from Jet Blue saying our flight back to Sac had been cancelled. I'm kind of not at all a morning person so imagine lots of tears and whining and that was pretty much my reaction. Luckily, they were able to book the boys and I on a flight to San Francisco which was less convenient but still got us to California on the same day. I checked that darn flight status all day and every time I saw "On time" my heart was full of hope, because I'm dramatic like that.
So we went about our business, I checked the flight status a million more times and we caught a cab to the airport. But as my darn luck would have it they cancelled our flight just as soon as we walked through the door of the airport. And it you're picturing me gracefully walking through those doors, think again. I was pulling three suitcases, carrying a purse and two backpacks and pushing the double stroller with both my boys inside. I was a hot mess, and a grumpy one upon learning that flight number two was no more.
Then we waited like our life depended on it in a line that circled that darn terminal 5. For hours. I should probably mention that I had to calm down my disgruntled children multiple times who were so mad that they started chanting, "Jet Blue babies! Jet Blue babies!" It doesn't get much worse than calling someone a baby around here, and hopefully Jet Blue got the message that no one should come between some littles and their grandparents. Talmage was feeling particularly hot-headed about the situation and kept saying, "Mom, you go up and tell those Jet Blue people how mad we are that they cancelled our flight. You get really mad at them, OK?" Me and him, we were on the same page right then. Although I tried to refrain from calling them Jet Blue babies, for maturity sake.
Long story short, way too many hours later we were dishing out dollars to another cab driver who promised to get us through traffic as quickly as possible, which was probably more for his benefit than ours since he had two crying little boys and one crying pregnant Mama in the back seat. We are California dreamin' for a few more days. Blah.
But, if we want to look at the bright side (well, do we?) then I should mention that I saw Brandon Flowers in the cab line outside, and made a total fool of myself by telling him how much James and I adore his music. I've met my fair share of celebrities before, but never have I been more star-struck. He's kind of a big deal around our house! And one more good thing: James knew I would need a little pick-me-up after such a yucky day so bright, cheery flowers were waiting for me when I got home. My mood didn't match theirs, but I must say they're rubbing off on me.
We won't be seeing you as soon as we hoped. But we're still coming!
Love, Mama Wig and her 2 1/2 Wiglets.