Prologue

We have arrived in North Dakota. Finally. I took a pad of paper and a pen along for the trip, so I could take notes for this here blog. This is what people do who can’t afford a laptop. If anyone out there would like to send me a laptop for Christmas, that’d be great. I’m not much for scrawling, especially when I lose my pen and have to use a big blue crayon to get my thoughts on paper. I thought about not taking a few notes, but, knew that in my exhausted stupor this blog entry would contain only the first two sentences of this current entry. And there is SO MUCH MORE to tell!

Boy Scout Motto: Always Be Prepared

The original plans for this trip were canceled, then rescheduled, and then canceled, and then re-instated all within about 72 hours of Chris’ leave starting. Because of this, by the time they suddenly gave us back our leave, I had mentally canceled the trip, filled my calendar, and generally been pretty lazy about preparing for our vacation. Still, upon getting the leave back, I didn’t plan to leave the very first day. I thought I would have time to cleanse the house, pack carefully, get stuff on ebay all ready to go, chill with Chris for a bit, and generally, have a very relaxed time. Chris surprised me by announcing that he found a Space A military flight for us that would leave bright and early the first day of leave, a mere five hours after he had arrived home from his last shift. I scrambled like crazy, got things ready and we bolted to the little base airport where we sat for the next four hours wondering if we would actually be getting on a plane today. Eventually, they called our name and we were loaded onto a C-5, the largest plane in the Air Force.

Did You Say Something?

The first thing I noticed about this huge airplane wasn’t the size, but the volume. I have often lain awake in bed at night listening to C-5s rev up from the other side of the base. I never quite made the connection that, in person, it would be even louder. We were issued earplugs for each member of the family and warned that we must wear them or our children would go deaf and we would be horrible parents. One would think, seeing as how our children’s hearing is rather important, someone would have marketed an ear protection device more geared toward little ones and less likely to make them scream in hysterics and force me to tie a scarf around their ears so they didn’t yank out the already chopped in half, but still too big, plugs we had shoved into their tiny ears.

We were the only people on this particular flight except for the guys onboard running the plane. It is very strange to be the only passengers in a plane with seventy seats, and a cargo belly big enough to hold a few tanks and helicopters. Our plane today was going to be picking up a small airplane in Arizona that will be on display at an air museum in England. Our tiny luggage looked very odd in the massive cargo space.

The few hours on the flight weren’t so bad, if you don’t count the ear plug misery and the fact that conversation was out of the question due to the noise.

Arizona

We were asked, once we were about to take off, if we had purchased meals for the flight. We had tried to, but the kid running our show told us that we would only be in flight for three hours (which I thought was a bit short, but who am I to argue) and would arrive well in time for lunch. He never mentioned that we were going to Arizona. The whole time, we thought we were flying direct to Ohio, because that’s what they told us! Finding out en route that we would be aboard this plane until midnight Ohio time with no food except the crackers and baby treats we packed for the kids came as a bit of a surprise.

Of course I got airsick on the way there. It’s just what I do, although this is the first time I’ve gotten sick during take-off. It’s usually landings that make me green. Chris saw that I was nearing the point where I usually blow chunks, so he slipped me a very small envelope, which he referred to as a barf bag. I stared at this tiny, folded piece of paper then shot him a look that clearly said, “You have got to be kidding me,” and he opened his own mini envelope to show me the plastic baggie inside. Hee hee. Thankfully, the baggie never met the lining of my stomach, although it was a close call.

We landed and were told that we would have about an hour and a half, so we may as well just stay on the plane. I raised an eyebrow at this and the obvious lack of food and one of the guys stationed in Arizona offered to take one of us by the BX food court so we wouldn’t starve. I immediately threw propriety to the wind, abandoned Chris and the children for this close shaved sergeant, and got myself off of the rumbling, vibrating, swaying in the breeze contraption where I managed to remove my stomach from my throat and send him back home where he belonged.

At the BX I snagged us some Taco John’s (which I miss dearly, as they don’t have it in California!) grabbed some reading material, a bag of chocolate and a package of less drowsy Dramamine so I didn’t spend the rest of the day clutching the barf bag and wondering how Taco John’s would taste in reverse.

We got back on the plane, ate our food, and started the long flight to Wright-Patterson AFB in Ohio.

The Man Child, He Is A Pooper

Jonas, although quite well behaved considering the fact that he was strapped down all day, began employing his new method of getting out of things, which, to put simply, involved going to the bathroom every five minutes until his parents’ eyeballs bleed from the irritation of walking him to the loo and back eight times in an hour. As a parent of a recently potty trained child, you know that although you can ask him to hold it, and possibly be safe, seeing as how he has already gone three times in the past twenty minutes, if he isn’t yanking your chain and does actually need to deposit poo in the toilet, you are going to wind up with a huge poop mess in his fleece lined jeans, a stench you can’t get rid of for the next few hours, and a half naked child until you land and can get your luggage back. Obviously, you let him use the potty.

The amazing thing is that every time he asked he did manage to deposit something (frequently after much straining) in the toilet, as if to say, “See! I’m Legit!” I suppose if I could poo on command to get out of less than fun activities I would. Therein lies the beauty of being three. When you’re three at church and you decide that today’s sermon is a bit boring all you have to do is go to the potty and you’re out. Try to pull that kind of crap as an adult and you’re just rude.

O-HI-O

Upon arriving in Ohio a wavy haired old man named Herb shook his head very slowly and said, “no. . .I don’t think we have any flights headed up north in the next few days.” He then printed up a flight sheet for the next few days that did, indeed, confirm that our flight to Minneapolis has been canceled. With nothing else to do, and being hungry and tired, we checked into billeting. They had the main hotel full, but put us into a three-bedroom house they had recently converted into billeting, that was about five blocks away from the main hotel. We got all of our stuff in the house, and then I started looking for the phone book so I could order a pizza. After searching every room in the house, we came to the conclusion that, not only was there no phone book there was no phone. Chris decided to walk back to the hotel and ask what the heck was up with the no phone thing when we discovered that the ditz at the desk had given us swipe keys and our doors required actual keys, so we couldn’t lock the door behind us. We decided to suck it up and wait until morning before dealing with the fact that we had no food, no phone and no transportation.