The good news is that Henry and I made it back home alive. The bad news is that he barely made it due to his poor mother being run so ragged that she almost stuck him in a strangers carry on bound for Thailand.

I should have known it was going to go badly. As we were standing in line to go through security at Bradley, Henry and I devised a fun new game that went something like this: line moves a few feet, mama says "go, go, go", Henry approaches person in front of us in line, mama says "stop!", Henry stops and giggles and waits to move forward again. It went great until the *coughtotalfreakingidiotcough* girl in front of us, who was pulling one of those roll-y hard carry on bags with the handle that telescopes up, let go of said handle to give her ID to the security person thereby sending said hard piece of luggage falling over backward and the hard plastic handle hitting Henry square in the face so hard that it knocked him right off his feet. Needless to say, he was not happy. The girl didn't even apologize. She just sat there looking at me like a deer cought in headlights while I picked him up and tried to get him calmed down, checked in with security and pushed past her to get our bags run through the x-ray machine. She never said a word. Jack ass. Henry was obviously upset, but we had to get to the gate and get checked in within 15 minutes and I HAD to get a trashy mag to read, so I didn't have time to stop. I chucked all of our stuff onto the Xray, including my shoes, and then power walked down to our gate holding my backpack, the portable DVD case, Henry and my shoes because Henry wouldn't let me put him down to put them back on for fear that he'd get hit in the head with more flying luggage. Awesome!

We finally got on the plane and found our seats. There was a man in the window seat and I had the aisle, so there was an empty seat in between. I apologized in advance for any hideous Henry behavior and we got one stroke of luck when he informed me that he was the proud papa of a 2 and 3 year old, so not to worry. He offered Henry the middle seat, a move he must have regretted for the rest of the flight. For once in his young life, Henry wanted nothing to do with watching Elmo or The Wiggles. He wanted down. More accurately, he wanted "DOOOOOOOOWWWWWN!!!!!". He wanted to run around and hit mom in the face and throw things ta people and do toddler yoga in the tiny middle seat. He was, to my dismay, "that kid". An lo, it was bad.

As sad as the flight attendants and other passengers were to see us go, all good things must come to an end and the nightmare known as Charlotte International Airport began. I was excited to let Henry walk a bit, and since our new plane was all the way on the toher side of the airport, he had the opportunity. Unfortunately, he had a very specific idea about how this commute should take place. Hand holding was not part of this agenda. More accurately, acknowlegdging my existence was not part of this agenda. Should I grab his hand or shoulder to, oh I don't know, guide him out fo the way of a speeding luggage cart, a loud protestation would occur. It went something like "No hand NO HAND NOHANDNOHAND!!!". It was rather charming. Always the creative thinker, Henry added to the joy that is walking through an extremely crowded airport with a walking toddler by deciding that the only way to truly enjoy the walk was to weave drunkenly from side to side, thereby making it near impossible to pass us with ease. We were well loved by all.

Ina ll of this mess, I had to find him something to eat lest a low blood sugar make things even worse. I saw a pizza place along the way, but pushed on to find our gate before settling on a place to grab a bite. We found our gate, E2, and since it was so close to the food area, I felt free to wander about and look for something good. We walked all the way back to the side of the airport we had arrived at only to find a line 8 miles long at the pizza place. It was at this point that Henry refused to walk one.more.step. Now carrying a backpack, a DVD bag, and a hungry toddler, I made my way back through the airport looking for something remotely edible. I settled on a chicken thingie at a bbq place. Our layover time was running out, but we weren't far from the gate, so I estimated 15 minutes of eating time before we would have to board. Now carrying a backpack, a DVD case, a hungry toddler and a bag of food, I made my way back to E2. To my suprise, when I looked up at the marquee, I saw Gate E2 Departure 9:45 Detroit. Apparently, in their infinite wisdom, "they" had decided that E22 was a more suitable place for our plane to depart. The distance between E2 and E22 might not seem long, but when you are carrying a backpack, a DVD case, a food bag and a hungry toddler who has now realises that there is food in that bag-it is a trail of tears. We got to E22 with about 5 minutes to shove food down Henry's throat and run onto the plane. The tiny plane. The very full tiny plane.

We were in the very last row, were there is 1 seat on one side of the aisle and 2 seats on the other. I had the aisle seat in the 2 seat side. The window seat remained empty. The whole plane was full except that little window seat. I thought that God was smiling down on me. Until a large sweaty businessman came barreling down the aisle and exclaimed "sorry to get your hopes up". Thankfully, Henry had enough, laid his head down on my shoulder and went to sleep, leaving me to ready about Ashton and Demi's suprize Kabbalah wedding in relative peace.

Getting Henry off the plane without waking him up was a work of genius, but as soon as we got into the airport (the plane was so small that we actually had to go down steps from the plane to the tarmac and walk into the airport) he woke up and sleepily requested to walk. We saw Kyle and all walked together to the baggage claim where Henry was now wide awake and ready to play some more. The first thing to come out was our carseat. Following it were all the pieces of the carseat that they had broken. Awesome! Kyle tried to be a good sport telling Henry that he was ready for a new "sportier" model anyway, but I was pissed. We packed the bean into his broken carseat and I stressed the whole way home that we'd get into an accident, but we didn't.

Henry went to bed kicking and screaming at around 11:45. Kyle woke up ay 6:30 this morning and promptly fell down the stairs, hurting his butt and prematurely waking the overtired baby. Today is going to be so much fun. I can tell already.