Drama in the Airport

We've been back from Mexico for nearly a week now.  Since we've been back I've been battling a terrible headache.  One headache that just wouldn't stop, until this morning.  It was such a relief to wake up not hurting.  Since I can only take acetaminophen, it wasn't even close to stopping it.

Point is, that's why I haven't blogged about our amazing trip yet.  Between, the headache and being exhausted by the time I get home and get the kids fed and to bed and dealing with wrapping and preparing Christmas things I've been completely exhausted.  Hard to complain after coming off of an amazing trip to my favorite place on Earth though.

On the way home I packed my carry on full with the most excellent Mexican ruffled potato chips ever.  Only to discover I was suddenly that lady on the floor of the baggage area trying to remove 6 pounds from my 56.3 lb suitcase.  Frantically shoving this and that into my carry on to avoid the ridiculous over charge due to the weight.

On the plane I organized pictures in my iPhoto and got the pictures ready to blog.  On the way there I slept on both flights.  Time flew by.  At one point I asked Mark if we took off yet, turns out we had been in the air for nearly an hour.  No wonder it seemed like we got there in no time at all.

Being our 5th year traveling basically at the same time of year, to the same place, we've learned a few things.  Such as, don't be two hours early to the airport because they don't start checking people in until 5am anyway.  So standing in line from 4-5 is pointless.  This year we planned on arriving at 5am.  We woke at 3am and planned on walking out the door at 4 to give us time to park and take the shuttle over. Our flights was to take off at 6:05am.  We got in line to check in at 5:10.  The line was loooooooong.  So long it had us checking the clock constantly saying, "We're really cutting it close!"  We ended up checking our bags and getting through security, hitting the bathroom super quick (a very important necessity when traveling six months pregnant!!) and then rushing (but not actually running) to our gate. We walked right on, I fell asleep and then we apparently took off.  Just about perfect.  What I didn't realize is the we had to de-ice a couple times.  It was 19 degrees and obviously freezing outside.  Let's say de-icing took 20-30 minutes. No biggie.

Until we reached Miami.  As people we getting of the plane there was this really pushy girl who kept trying to pass people on the miniature plane aisle.  Saying she's going to miss her connecting flight.  "What a spaz!!" I kept saying to myself.   Now, I had been awake for a bit watching my new favorite show (Justified) and was calm and relaxed.  I truly figured they wouldn't arrange a connecting flight you couldn't make.  We finally got off the plane and had to check which gate we were supposed to be at.  Turns out E5.  We were at C3.  We asked the quickest way to get there.  Take the train to the second stop.  Two escalators later, one loooong train ride and we were finally in section E.  "I'm going to run in to the bathroom, " I said.  "We don't have time," my frantic and high strung husband replied.  "Well, I'm going!"  I said thinking clearly we have time.  Our boarding pass says BOARDING TIMME 10:55.  I quickly used the restroom carrying an empty small suitcase, plus my small purse, plus a bag carrying my laptop, three novels and 5 magazines.  I came out of the bathroom to find no Mark.  Clearly he decided to use the restroom also.  I stood watching the digital time tick on the board with the flights.   I watched as two entire minutes pass and many men exited from the restroom, I saw our flights turning from boarding to DEPARTING!  I frantically got out my phone to call him (I thought yelling into the restroom was rue) when he answered immediately SCREAMING, "Get to E5 they're going to leave without us!"  My mind was racing.  I was still staring at the restroom and turned around and it finally clicked, I screamed, "YOU LEFT ME?!?!?"  And took of running.  Can you imagine the sight?!  Six months pregnant shorty, running through the airport with bags literally flying in the wind.  Speaking of wind, I was so winded I couldn't breathe when I finally arrived at E5.  It was empty and the lady had to unlock the door to let us in.  Mark asked no less than 10 times, are you ok?  Well, let's see: My feet are so swollen from the last flight they're over flowing out of my shoes, I haven't ran in about six months, I'm carrying EVERYTHING, and my husband just ditched me at the airport.  No, I'm not fine at all.  We got on the plane and I was still panting.  We sat down, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and then I started coughing.  And coughing and coughing and coughing.  So hard for so long the lady behind me handed me some mints.  I took one.   In hindsight I should have kept the whole zip loc.  I couldn't stop coughing.  Mark was slowing beginning to realize yelling into the bathroom for me would have been a much much smarted move than assuming I heard the announcement that it was last call and our flight was departing.  Clearly if I would have heard that I would have starting running a lot sooner.  In the end, he may have stopped the plane since he got there quickly and told them his pregnant wife was running to the plane.  However, this story will go down in history as proof (which I've already used many times) as I won't leave you no matter what.  You, however, will take off without me.  Pretty sure that will come in handy for decades to come.

Talk about a close call.

We finally landed at Cancun and I was still hot, literally and figuratively.  But that quickly faded as all our luggage did manage to get there, which the flight attendant told Mark it wouldn't be on our flight because we were so late.  I called Bullshit on that one from the get go.

Soon, the 87 degree weather hit our faces and we boarded our shuttle and we were off to Paradise.