Home again, home again. Again.

We're back in China. (Sigh.) Ok, maybe it's not that bad, but the jetlag haze and lack of Sonic cokes sure makes it look less than great right now. The best part is being back together, all four of us in the same place. The kids and I had an amazing time on our bonus trip to Minnesota and Canada, but we all missed Daddy a lot.

I'll have more trip report-type posts up over the next few days (weeks), but had to share our adventure of getting home. (Unlike some people, we did not travel in plush style. ;-)) And I have no pictures of the adventure, because, well, I flew 14 hours with two kids and the camera never crossed my mind. Sedatives, yes. Camera, no.

[The short story is that we're home. The trip was long but mostly uneventful. If you want the very long version, feel free to keep reading, but you've been warned. It's kinda long.]

We woke up very early on Monday morning to leave for the airport. John woke up and said, "Oh, Nana, I'm sorry but I'm afraid I have to go back to China today." He said the same thing to Grandpa Larry, and then to the dogs, and then to the cat. We're all about the dramatic goodbyes.

We checked in without any problems and were relieved to find out that I had kept all of my luggage under the 50 pound limit. This was a huge deal, since we had to shell out an unexpected $200 in Austin for an overweight bag in Austin. (However, we have since learned that we were scammed by the American gate agent -- so now we have to figure out how to get that money back.)

Nana helped us out by flying with us to Chicago and staying until we were safely on the big plane to China. We took turns chasing Betsy up and down the concourse. The flight from Minneapolis had arrived about 30 minutes early, so we had plenty of time to get settled. This was in stark contrast to Tommy's flight from Austin, which had arrived in Chicago 30 minutes late.

Let me paint the picture for you. I had the kids, the stroller, Betsy's (heavy) car seat, a duffel bag, and my computer backpack. We weren't entirely sure how I was going to get down the jetway. Just then, our hero arrived -- a man who had been on our flight from Minneapolis came up and offered to carry the car seat when he boarded. I did not hesitate for a second, because that sucker is heavy and Tommy had repeatedly said things like "I know you'll be fine; the only thing I worry about is the car seat."

So we said our goodbyes and gave lots of hugs to Nana, and headed down the jetway. No time for tears or drama this time. I felt a little bit like I was going into battle. The nice gentleman was sitting two rows in front of us and helped get the car seat installed -- he said that his wife once traveled alone with 2 of their 3 kids, and he was happy to help. And, the plane was remarkably empty. We had a whole row to ourselves, except for one seat on the end that a random Chinese man named Sam decided to sit in.

Sam was a trooper. He told me that he lived in Shanghai, but traveled back and forth to Shanghai every 6 weeks because his wife and son live in Dallas. (Huh?) I asked him how long they would be separated and he said four years. FOUR YEARS of flying back and forth to Shanghai every 6 weeks? No, thank you. Sam set out to be John's buddy and helped him with his seat belt, his tray table, and provided a little more assistance with the video games that John really wanted. After a while, he left and went to another seat. But we would see him again.

The kids were pretty content with their snacks and their DVDs (I will say it again -- Yo Gabba Gabba is kiddie crack and when I'm staring down that flight, I will gladly be a distributor.) I thought about our previous flights with the kids and how they slept more than half of them, so I decided to hold off on Benadryl. Hadn't given it the last two times, didn't see a reason to use it yet. Big mistake. Huge.

Two hours in, they started to nod off. John stretched out in two of the seats, Betsy reclined in her car seat, and I snuck back to the galley where the flight attendants comped me a beer. Ah, this is going to be easy, I thought. Seriously -- how deluded could I have been?

One hour, 48 minutes. That's how long they slept on a 13 hour, 56 minute flight. Did I mention that they slept 9 and 7 hours of our last flights? Because they did.

I'm going to stop this endless and boring recap now so that I can write an open letter to American Airlines.

Dear American Airlines In-Flight Programming Department:
Just so you know, having 1 "kids" movie and 1 "kids" program on your in-flight entertainment menu for a 14-hour flight just isn't cutting it. Especially when they are only 96 and 23 minutes in duration, respectively. Even more especially when they are the exact same programs you had on two months before. The Meerkats? Really? There are only so many times I can let my 2 year old watch a hawk carrying the baby meerkat away for dinner before she starts to get upset. And then there's The Witches of Waverly Place on the Disney Channel. This isn't even appropriate for the kids the show is marketed to, but I can see why you'd think that my 4 year old boy might be interested in it.
Thanks,
Frazzled Mom

We had a fancy DVD player and plenty of Yo Gabba Gabba, though, plus a few Backyardigans episodes, so we were fine. And I still thought that they would fall back asleep at some point. WRONG.

The rest of the flight was pretty uneventful. John asked me every hour or so whether we were in Shanghai. Betsy watched DVDs even though her eyes were glazed over and watering from exhaustion, but wouldn't fall asleep. John dropped things on the floor every 10-15 minutes and got frustrated that he couldn't play Sudoku. I tried to watch The Proposal, and to read, and to sleep. None of those panned out. I watched my self-imposed deadline for administering the Benadryl come and go, out of fear that it would kick in right before landing and that I would have to drag them off the plane asleep.

Finally, we landed. Even a few minutes early. Sam had reappeared toward the end of the flight. Only this time, he was wrapped in a blanket, sneezing and coughing. I was staring him down and thinking, Dude, if we get quarantined because of you, it is not going to be pretty. But the laser-wielding health inspectors never appeared. The same nice gentleman helped me carry the car seat off the plane. At the quarantine check, an official whisked us through to an express line, and we got to go through a special line at customs, too.

The last step? Getting our four giant bags, plus all the stuff we'd had on the plane, out to the car. I had a baggage trolley loaded up with all of our bags and carry-ons and the car seat, while John pushed Betsy in the stroller. The nice gentleman remained close by but at a respectful difference until we had our things, and when we finally got through the last gate and saw Tommy, he came up and said goodbye and complimented us on how well the kids had done on the flight.

And then we were on our way home. Of course the kids fell asleep as soon as the car started moving -- why wouldn't they? I'll admit that driving to the apartment under overcast, humid skies was a pretty harsh change from the beautiful early September days we'd just left at the farm. And I didn't have the same adrenaline or sense of adventure as the last time I'd arrived. I knew exactly what I was coming back to. China. Dirt. Walking everywhere. Not understanding the language. Carrefour. Jet lag, bad weather, expensive food.

However, more importantly and thankfully, I was coming back to Tommy and our home. To an apartment so clean, it looked like it had been kissed by angels. To a stocked fridge and some beautiful flowers. To a husband who had already survived jet lag and was therefore willing and able to order me some dinner and watch the kids when I passed out cold at 6:00.

So, that's that. I flew halfway around the world with two young kids and lived to tell about it. And if you'll excuse me, some Benadryl is calling my name.