Just when we thought our hands were full with trying to move across the country, we got thrown curveballs.

[Related] See the decision making process that lead to this sudden move.

My first plane ride was at night, which worked great for baby schedule, but not so much for my 5-year-old.

Luckily my sister and her husband were there to guide me through the airport and helped watch the kids when I looked at allergen menus for dairy-free foods I could eat at the restaurants (yay for Wendy’s.

They went above and beyond to help me out with the stress I was under.

What didn’t help the situation was…

The flight getting delayed by about 3 hours. Not my favorite experience trying to keep baby happy during this time.


There were no headphones available. 

The flight crew was scarce and difficult to wave down, too busy involved in their own conversations to notice us.

Refreshment cart orders were made as soon as the takeoff video finished playing, but took over half the planes flight before making it back to us.

Ever have a thirsty child asking “where’s my drink” 50 times over and over?

My daughter couldn’t sleep in the plane seats while buckled, but she had to stay buckled most of the flight. So she threw a tantrum, kicking and screaming in her seat.

This is where my brother in law became a knight in shining armor.

He literally had to hold her, with his arms locked so she couldn’t bust through and kick her baby brother (or me) again. Taking responsibility of her during the flight, talking to her, scolding her, anything that needed to be done. He did it.

Which left me to focus on my lap riding infant. Who by this point was arguably my favorite child...

Then we got to the destination airport of SANFRAN. My parents picked me and the kids up, while my sister and her husband caught a morning flight to SEATAC airport.

Not getting a connecting flight for me and the kids cut cost and got me to see my mom quicker because by this point I hadn’t slept in 48 hours and..

I needed my mommy.

As we stood there in the car pickup area loading our baggage, my sister informed our folks that she was pregnant with her first. Bringing some joyous smiles to the little reunion happening on the side of the road with car lights shining at us and tourists looking at us like we were crazy.

Thankfully it wasn’t too busy this time of night.

On the road

The GPS said it would take 9 hours.

It took closer to 14.

While in the car, my parents dropped the bombshell that they were in negotiations to buy the house they’d been renting for the past 21 years. 

But that wasn’t enough.

They think my mom has an autoimmune disease and are in the middle of doctor run tests to confirm/deny their suspicions. 

Told me about their jobs at a warehouse as receivers. The colorful coworkers they had, including a guy with a hook for a hand and a self-proclaimed safety monitor. It sounded like a relaxed job, and they loved it so much that they could even see my husband working there. (Yay job leads.)

They told me about the things they did to prepare for our arrival, how I need to take very specific vitamins to keep my body healthy so I don’t deteriorate like my mom.

Most of the car ride was filled with natural conversation.  

Most of my left ribcage was filled with the cup holder from my son’s rear-facing car seat. (A small Kia isn’t made for 2 car seats and a grown adult in the back row.)

The next few weeks were just as hectic, by mid-July we finally had settled into things. The house had been updated, inspected and closed on.

My husband was up here with us and brought our possessions and pets.

We finally felt like we could step back and breathe.

There was no more time crunching deadlines, back-breaking labor, and we finally had a system of organization.


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