layover

The holidays are almost here, and with that comes travel. (Yay! To Wisconsin!) Yesterday, in the spirit of holiday travel, I was thinking about how annoying layovers and flight delays are. You left someplace to get to another place and you're stuck in some middle place. The middle place isn't bad- there are enough cool things to see and do and eat to keep you occupied. But in your heart, the airport layover isn't where you want to be- you want to be where you were going, damnit! How inconvenient! How unfair that other flights are taking off, packed full of smug passengers, while your stupid flight just SITS there at the gate, going nowhere.

2007 has totally been a layover. We left where we were- happy and content in Couple-with-spoiled-pets-land. Sure, our departure was technically an accident, but we departed nonetheless, final destination- Parentland. We boarded the baby bound plane, buckled up for the ride, and said adios to newlywed, childless life. The drink carts rolled out and the destination seemed clear. But instead of comfortably coasting to our destination, we hit a snag. Call it a "mechanical failure"- it just didn't go off as planned. So we landed. And waited. And became more irritated by the hour. And there weren't even moving walkways to speed us along!

So now, we're "trying" again. (I hate that term, I hate others having the knowlege that for a few days a month, my husband and I are engaging in "unprotected adult activities". In fact, it kind of makes me gag to hear other people talk about such things. But this blog is private now, and those who are still allowed to read are those I feel comfortable with having that knowlege. Read or don't, your choice.) Anyway, with this "trying" I picture us sitting at our gate, boarding passes in our grubby little hands, waiting for the polyester clad airline employee to announce our flight status. Will they start boarding? Will we get on the plane and reach our destination hassle free, arrive tired and worn, but entirely satisfied to finally be "there"? Or be handed more layover, given another wait, told to come back in 4 weeks and see what they can do? That's not the end of the world, obviously. Together and relatively carefree isn't so bad, after all. Much like an airport layover, we'll find some way to entertain ourselves in the meantime. We'll find a bar and get some wine and glare at people with strollers and make fun of the midwesterners wearing bright white tennies with tapered leg jeans. But God, I'd love for our flight to take off. And for this flight to be the ONE that gets us there. The one that lands us at our destination- Babies R Us. Well, Babies R Us, L&D, then Home....mini-us in arms, content at long last.

Here's hoping.......