Monday, February 4

The Trek to Terminal B

Today is exactly a month since we made our voyage to Orlando
and I think I am finally ready to describe our journey
through the Philadelphia airport
with two toddlers
four carry ons
two strollers
two backpacks holding two carseats
and 300 pounds of luggage.

I can tell you
it's probably similar to someone who climbs Mt Everest
or swims across the Atlantic
or runs a marathon backwards and barefoot.

I sort of wanted a medal
but more than that, I wanted the biggest Diet Pepsi someone could bring me
and a place I could lay down and sleep. and maybe die.
Kidding. But just about the dying part. Not the sleeping part and certainly not the Diet Pepsi part.

Here is the one tip I leave you with
for when you are traveling through the airport
with little ones and their things attached to every limb on your body.
And no, this tip isn't about how to keep your toddler from crying on the airplane
or how to pack efficiently for your voyage
because I haven't figured out those yet.

Here is my tip.
Wear fitted pants.
Not the comfy jeans.
You know the jeans I'm talking about right?
They are a little baggy and hug your hips loosely
and don't look amazing but for how they feel, they are totally worth wearing anyway.

Through the airport, my job was to push the double stroller
that was carrying two toddlers and two carry ons
and also wear the giant backback
that looked like it was holding my pet elephant
but in fact, was holding a carseat.

And while I am only a couple pounds shy away from my pre pregnancy weight,
my middle looks kind of like I'm wearing a small inner tube underneath my clothes
(slight dramatization perhaps but it's how I feel sometimes)
and I'm pretty sure people are wondering why I'm always tsunami ready.
I truly believe that my body is holding onto this middle fat
because it has trust issues with me after I asked it to hold 13.5 pounds of baby
and is worried I may ask it to do it again and wants to be prepared.

So picture me walking through the airport,
wearing my oh so comfy and loose fitting jeans,
pushing two toddlers and their carry ons
and holding a carseat on my back.
I tried to keep good posture in the beginning and look like super mom
but before long,
I looked like I was not in fact moving to Florida as super mom
but moving for my newest roll in Disney World as the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
true story.

And as I'm hunch backing along on my long trek to Terminal B
(which I'm pretty sure is about 38 miles from security)
and feeling closer and closer to waving down a nearby airplane to fly me to my terminal,
my stupid comfy pants started falling down.
And then my shirt started riding up.
And that dreaded middle that I try my hardest to conceal
with scarves and spanx and such
was out for the whole traveling world to see.

I tried to pull stuff down and up and back down again
but it was useless.
People were running and shielding their eyes
and buying travel blankets from the airport store to cover me with.
Ok. That's a lie.
But I wouldn't have minded a travel blanket or two or twenty.

And by the time we got to our terminal,
I was so sweaty and stressed and mortified
that the screaming that started to occur
by one toddler who's name rhymes with Jolly
and was literally the opposite of jolly
didn't even phase me.

That sweet little baby sobbed down the jetway
and onto the plane
and into her carseat
and out of her carseat and into Mommy's arms.
It got so intense that the people in front of us decided to move seats.
And I don't blame them.
Between the hysterics from Molly
and the fact that Ava decided at that moment
that she had an obsession with kicking things
and would.not.stop.kicking.the.seats.not.even.for.toys.snacks.promises.of.a.pony.
I almost moved seats too.
just kidding.
sort of.

Are you laughing?
I hope so.
Because I am.
Maybe not then,
but now? Sure. It's funny.
And one for the baby books.
Because I write in the baby books every day.
Lie.
That was a lie.
Sorry. I don't really write in the baby books every day. Or ever anymore.
I just wanted to see if I said it if it made it true. or made me super mom.
It didn't.

Oh... and please erase the inner tube picture from your mind.
I'm working on it.
In fact, I made a goal,
It is my final weight loss goal
before my goal of
don't-ever-justify-that-much-pizza-again-i-know-you-had-twins-but-you-still-can't-eat-pizza-like-that-mode
otherwise known as "maintenance mode"
which I am determined to get to and live in forever and ever amen.
It helps that there is not a good pizza place around here.
and I'm allllmost halfway to meeting my goal and it tastes so good.

Speaking of taste. and Diet Pepsi.
I have basically cut Diet Pepsi from my life.
Like I have one a week instead of one (or two) a day.
I actually feel better and less hungry and it's been a lot easier than I thought it was going to be.
and now I pretty much never crave it
and actually choose water or seltzer with a splash of apple cider vinegar and some ginger.

So just think,
one month ago I was a diet pepsi addict with falling down pants and airport walking problems
and now I'm a water drinking, fitted pant, a little lighter, Florida resident.
I know you're proud.

1 comments:

  1. I gasped when I read that you were writing in the twins' baby books everyday and literally laughed out loud when you admitted it was a lie. Thanks for sharing your story :)

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