We flew into New York Friday night, just the three of us. It was a long day that began at 3:30am, filled with the wrangling of carry-ons and car seats, constantly changing movies and handing out snacks, appeasing tired and cranky babes, and being plain old exhausted. I don’t love travel days, BUT! But. They eventually end. We land, at long last, and there’s nothing more wonderful than the first deep breath you take when you’re finally free from the confines of a tin-can-in-the-sky and can forget about keeping the carry on perfectly organized. Heaven.
So yes, we made it, and the boys really were wonderful. I can’t complain. Jameson didn’t sleep a wink, which completely baffled me, and William didn’t do much better, but somehow, the hours slipped by with only a few “events”. Mostly, we were just super-duper excited about getting to Nana and Papa’s house.
Did I just say there’s nothing better than the first deep breath after landing? Well, I take that back. That feeling is wonderful, for sure, but pulling to a stop in front of the homiest home in the world, stepping out into clear, crisp air that “smells like snow!” (according to Jameson), and passing through that red front door into the warm and eager embraces of the dearest of people?
That is truly wonderful.