Touch the sky

Sadly, EM's uncle quietly passed away a few days before the end of the year. After arrangements were made, it was announced that his funeral would take place on the afternoon of New Year's Eve. There was no question that we would attend. Our only dilemma was that we were up in the mountains, with a home full of visiting friends (12, ready to party) and no nanny. The other problem we were faced with was the drive to Los Angeles. Due to the holiday traffic, the best we could hope for was a 3 to 4 hour drive there and back, compounded by the fact that NO ONE, NOT A SINGLE ONE of our friends, offered to watch Makena. Our Bahamas' friends decided they would take Jack skiing with them while another couple decided to take Tiger (the dog) with them for the day, but we were stuck having to go to the funeral with our terrible toddler. Just when we were about to commit to the 8 hour drive, our friend, Steve, suggested we look into chartering a flight. Brilliant (if not costly). We would avoid the holiday traffic, we could fly into Burbank (minutes away from the cemetery) and be back before the sun set! Gung Ho, EM called the airport and was immediately told that we could not charter a plane, as none were available -- but that we might try the flight school and see if they would charter out a plane to us. We did, and they could! Moreover, it was an incredibly reasonable rate (then again, it was a minuscule plane). So we packed up the diaper bag, the car seat and the devil -- I mean, Makena and we hightailed it to the airport. After EM filled out some paperwork and I tried to stay zen (because of my claustrophobia issues,) we were ready to board the plane. I was squished in the back with Mak and EM sat himself in the front-passenger seat... For about a second and a half until the pilot told him that he (my husband) would be flying the plane. We all laughed thinking that he was joking, BUT HE WASN'T.The paperwork that EM had signed was for flight instruction (the reason the rate was so reasonable!) and he was told that he would be taking off and flying the plane until we reached Burbank, at which point, he (the flight instructor) would take over. If we didn't agree to this, our little charter would be three times the price!

I couldn't believe it when EM said, "okay." He was stunned but totally psyched to do this. I was crammed in the back with Mak, feeling like an Icelandic sardine and with visions of "La Bamba" floating through my head, crying dry tears and screaming internally. I really thought that my dance was up, that today was my day to go. (EM in, on the left, flying the plane.)
After a few minutes of instruction, EM took control of the plane and took off. I still was not convinced that we would land so I called Jack on the ski hill to say goodbye, to have him look up and see the plane, and to remember to say "please" and "thank you" and to do his homework -- to which he reminded me that he was on holiday break and therefore had none.
(The ski hill, as seen from the plane.)
Obviously, we survived this because I am blogging about it. We arrived at the cemetery saw family and friends and were able to introduce Makena to those who hadn't met her. After the service, we rushed back to the airport to meet EM's flight instructor and to take off one more time before the sun went down.

I said a little prayer and it was answered.

Now that I am not dead, It was really quite a stunning and magical way to end the year. I really felt like we were touching the sky. It felt like we were close to Sam and saying goodbye to him in a really spiritual and special way. Our own private send-off to the hereafter... Another bonus (other than Makena being a total trooper) was that she finally understood the concept of flying and now constantly points up to the sky when she catches sight of a plane. EM, on the other hand, had an epiphany. He logged two hours in his flight book and is now considering getting his pilot's license.

I told him that he could do whatever he wanted as long as he upped his life insurance by a million.

Happy New Year!

Is-a-loving wife and loving life

Bite me, part II (aka The long road home)

(Mak and Jack in the lagoon.)
How do you get four adults and four children out of the Bahamas smoothly? You don't. The morning started off with my friend's eye still swollen from our "sandy" mishap/adventure the day before. Then Conner, her son, ended up with a half-inch splinter embedded in the heel of his foot. On the way back from bidding the DEA lagoon adieu, I slipped and fell on my hands and knees while carrying Makena on my shoulders. I managed to keep her from crashing head first into the ground but my back seized and I had no feeling between the base of my neck and my shoulder blades for about an hour. We loaded up the car and were starting to head out when Conner's dad realized he didn't have his passport. We tore all the bags apart without finding it. It turns out it was in my purse! How it got there was a mystery.

We piled back into the car and headed to Georgetown to catch our flight. We stopped at the supermarket to purchase snacks for the kids and I don't know how it happened but EM ended up closing the door on Conner's fingers. It was horrible. His fingers were stuck -- but miraculously not broken because of the rubber trim around the door -- We ended up buying frozen peas and extra-strength Tylenol and praying that his fingers were not going to swell up and that he could last until the flight made it to Miami. We flew into Miami and Conner's fingers were feeling much better and then we hightailed it to make our connection for the flight home to Los Angeles.

Makena had an enormous tantrum in the middle of the terminal. EM was horrified, I told him to walk away and pretend he didn't know us and I let Makena continue to scream and thrash about the floor while the holiday travelers passed by us trying not to step or trip over her. I figured that she might as well get it out of her system before we got on the flight -- and she did. A few minutes after boarding she fell asleep.

Unfortunately, we did not take off after boarding. We stayed parked on the runway for a while, waiting for the passenger manifest to be examined. Then about an hour into this wait, the pilot spoke to us and explained that the flight was so full and that the plane weighed so much that we were being redirected to the longest runway for take-off and that we would be traveling at a very high speed for a longer than normal time before becoming airborne. I wish he hadn't felt the need to explain this because it really stressed me out. But we did take off (eventually) and we did finally land late but safe.

We thought we were home free but our luggage never made it and we spent an hour and a half trying to figure out where it was and what other flight it might be on... I could go on and on but we are already in 2008 and much more has happened since. I'm still trying to catch up and we are all still itching from the bug bites!

Is - happy to be home