Let me start by saying, the trip was wonderful and couldn't have gone any better.
I was blessed to see so many, especially those I wasn't even anticipating.
Dinners, lots of laughs and of course, catching up.
However, the trip had run its course, and as seeing how the departure had unraveled, there was no way in hell I would let that happen again.
I left earlier than I needed, to allow myself a window of "loss time"
This is time I always allow, because I inevitably, get lost.
Remind me to tell you when I had a Bentley personally escort me to the freeway.
Anyways, back to task, yes, this is exactly why I end up lost.
FOCUS FOUST.
So I leave with more than enough time to get me to the airport, return the car, and set off to find that stupid ass train that has no fucking maps, and get off at most likely, two wrong terminals before we find the right one.
All the while hearing my kids utter, "so this is how it ends."
It's called an ADVENTURE kids.
We find the airport without incident.
Should have been a HUGE red flag, but like a pig in shit, I see it as a victory.
Now that I think about it, I probably felt like Napoleon going to Waterloo.
We return the car without a hiccup.
I don't know why my brain wasn't sending up the white flag.
We get to the check-in.
And are immediately waved over to be checked in priority.
I smile and wave back, no first class priority here I motion to him, he says not to worry and without a hitch, takes our luggage and gives us WORKING boarding passes.
We cruise through TSA with enough time to check out all the over priced gift stores.
Then it happens.
Over the loud speaker, I hear, due to the weather in NY, we need to postpone the flight 30 minutes.
The kids and I barely even acknowledge the news, and go back to our devices.
Then I hear the flight will be delayed an hour.
This gets an audible groan from all in the terminal, yet mere minutes later, we were told we could board!
OK, that wasn't so bad.
We all board. We leave the gate. We get on the runway. Pleasant 'Captain over the loud speaker message' and I begin to gain confidence that we are going to get home.
And then, nothing.
For three hours, nothing.
We sat on the runway for three hours, before apparently a new "can't have people on an airplane that isn't going anywhere anytime soon" rule that said we had to go back to the gate.
As far as I was concerned I wanted to scream hallelujah hallelujah, free at last.
In reality, we were all starving, and I needed to stretch.
So we ran to the nearest McDonald's and ordered all the norms, at the unreal inflation rate that airports deploy, and I also scramble to buy a phone charger, because they made me check my carry-on which had my cord in it, and I can assume this new one must made of gold based on the price, and find my kids, to sit down to eat on an airport chair...
What happened next, is a moment that made me laugh so hard, I cried.
Sometimes we need to be reminded to find the levity in adversity.
However, this would be the last laugh of the trip.
Until, that is, I could process the whole thing.
A month later...
Where upon revisiting the trauma, now I have tears of laughter rolling down my face.
At the time, not so much.
Anyways.
Again, only child here.
Siblings are a foreign thing to me.
But one of my children, who shall remain nameless, wanted to punish another one of my children by not letting them finish their last 2 nuggets.
So this child, looked the other child dead in the eye, and threw the nuggets out.
The bag flew the through the air as if Jordan himself had thrown it, and got nothing but net as it entered the garbage can.
Kids are savage man.
Before I could even utter, 'are you fucking kidding me?' another of my children, having chased the bag through the air into the can, notices that the container the nuggets were in has landed upright, IN THE GARBAGE, at a major US airport, and with that being said, begins to publicly dumpster dive.
Upon hearing this news, and the retrieval of the nuggets in question a success, I then had TWO children fighting over the garbage nuggets.
I was now watching 'Hunger Games live at O'Hare.'
At that point, I couldn't even be mad, because quite frankly, those nuggets were like twice the price that they usually are, and in all honesty, I looked into the garbage can and it had been emptied fairly recently.
I think.
We then hear the announcement that we are needed to re-board because we are going to depart.
Short story long, or vice versa, we arrive at JFK at 3am.
We were supposed to land by 7pm.
Again, now even more delirious and sleepy than before, we roam around the airport, get our bags, and locate a cab stand.
Once we found it, I quickly saw that every motherfucking flight must have been delayed because the line was hundreds long.
It was at that moment I made a snap decision.
Mom Boss!
"Kids! Forget this! I am going to rent a car," I declare in front of the crowds, like I am Edison sharing he just invented the light bulb.
Take that suckers, I practically yell, as I confidently grab all three kids and leave the line.
Small problem.
We don't know the location of the GODDAMN car rental location.
Now, it's June, in NYC, at 3am, and I have 3 kids.
Whom, by the way, have declared "so this is how it ends" as the new trip moniker.
And then there's me.
El Capitain! Boss lady, sucker, whatever...
In this newly entered stage of "lady life", I have begun to find myself demanding cool air at all times.
Think you can find a cool breeze in June, in NYC?
Dumb question.
So now, being very hot, on top of everything else, I am even more super pleasant lovely and charming than I usually am.
A few cops, who must have sensed my growing angst, pulled me aside and asked where I needed to go.
They answered with the instructions that all I needed to do was walk in that direction, and wait for a bus, that would take us to the car rentals lot.
Ok, no problem.
Kids we have made it this far, we got this!
As it turned out, walk in "that direction" meant like 2 fucking miles.
With 3 kids and luggage.
And a carry on which looks gorgeous, but is completely impractical, and serves more as an overpriced heavy duffel bag.
One that has no wheels and is now strapped to my already overheated chest.
It now serves as a very attractive anchor to an already, very defeated body.
Each few steps seeing me shed another layer of clothing as I silently curse to myself over and over.
I imagine Moses and his journey.
"Let my people go."
God and I talked a lot more on that day than normal.
Just find said bus stop I keep saying to myself.
For the first time during this whole debacle I actually now begin to wonder if this will be how it ends.
Tell myself to stay confident on the outside.
For 45 minutes.
Now I have really started to wonder if this will be how it ends.
Start to contemplate staying in a hotel, and begin to look up prices.
Also, I find myself thinking about joining a Circus, my impending murder, and a cool pair of pants I bought and what top I am going to pair it with, it we ever make it home.
There were a lot of highs and lows at this point circling around in my brain.
Bus FINALLY arrives, bringing back hope.
I actually became so excited, that when we did get to the AVIS office, I tripped over my suitcase in front of the bus, in the middle of the street.
In my white jeans, and white jean jacket.
The oversized duffel bag wasn't my only poor choice that day.
Don't ask.
Open the doors of AVIS, and see...
A LINE.
If I had a dollar for every time, 'are you fucking kidding me?' went through my head that day I could have bought Mark Cuban.
So we enter and wait.
At this point we are all delusional.
I may have been privy to multiple murder threats between my three cherubs while we waited, but I'll never tell.
So, an hour later, and it's our turn, and I practically burst into tears, grab the keys and run.
We find the car, leave the lot, and I have my trusty oldest play GPS.
We both notice the drive seems super dark, but we are tired and want our beds.
Also, in my defense, driving around NYC, which is well lit, and this being a car I wasn't use to, I had no idea how bright the headlights were supposed to be.
By now, it is past 4am, and I just want to get the fuck home.
During the drive I noticed everyone was riding me, and also flashing their brights.
But honestly, I just wanted to get home, we were so close I could taste it.
So I drove up the FDR, over the GWB, and back to my house on a series of roads that have not one street light.
So I drive, white knuckled, but accomplishing.
Right before our exit, I see the all too familiar police lights turn on behind me.
It just happens to be a State Trooper, who motions to me to pull over.
Insert, are you f'in kidding me here.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
I want to say, "yes, so you can just arrest me and put me out of my misery."
But I politely say, no.
He tells me, well you are driving without lights on.
Well, that explains why I could barely fucking see anything I chuckle to myself while also mildly wanting to die.
Years ago, I drove home to Jersey from NYC back to my parents with my mom like that one night.
To have been a fly on the wall of that car....
Standard protocol ensues, can I have your license? Do you have anything I need to be aware of?
Your eyes look glassy. Are you on anything?
I WANT to respond, 'yea I am high for thinking I can do anything nice with my kids, and not have a crazy ass time.'
But I say no.
I quietly hand over my license.
And then I start to think about every time I had ever jaywalked and thought, yep this is definitionally how it ends.
Seeing the headline read, Mom who tried to show her kids a nice vacation, imprisoned for life.
He comes back to the car with my license, no handcuffs in sight, and I breath a sigh of relief.
He shows me how to turn on my lights, and off we go, without even so much, as a ticket.
Are things turning around?
Yes.
Until I realize I need to RETURN the car the next morning.
Those same kids who proclaimed they were my ride or dies a few hours before, all too tired to accompany me.
Thanks guys.
I will find the rental return, in JERSEY, and UBER myself back, don't you worry your little pretty heads.
What happened to, 'we're all in this together' that was on repeat, mere hours earlier?
Anyways, got the car back, got myself back home, and vowed to myself to forget any of this had happened.
Until I did, and recalling the story now, as being utterly ridiculously funny.
A Cynthia Story.
So just remember this little take away.
After the whole trip was said and done, I learned that my kids will be by my side until the end.
Unless that end, is in Jersey.
Duly noted kiddos.
Thanks.
Xoxo,
C.
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