And we’re off …

Jet Lagged Kids on the couch
All the details leading up to the flight to Toulouse came fast and were not totally sorted out before we left.  We tried to get the important things completed.  Get the house ready for selling, cancel our mobile phones, send off our taxes, move all of our crap to Kevin’s house, get the two children with small infections treated at the doctor … yadda yadda yadda and with a mound of check-in luggage, carry-on bags for all, the cat and a bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs we were on our way.  The flight went as easy as you could ask for.  After the kids were in their seats headed towards inflight vegetable-hood with the little TV screen in each seat, a gorgeous French flight attendant is curious if I’d like an aperitif, say a glass of Champagne.  From there, the flight was smoothly.

Security, however, was a different matter.  We decided to postpone shipping our belongings until we knew what we needed, where we would end up long term and how long we actually would stay in France.  That means, what we take with us would have to keep us going until we figure out our long-term plan.  Handling that sort of baggage with three young kids and one cat was hard enough when we were all rested.  We had to disrobe, unpack and go through airport security three times.  Each time with increasing tears and sweat.  It was all going fine at Paris security despite Mommy and Daddy zombie leading three little baby zombies through.  It was when Lamby, Minty’s cuddle animal, was clutched from her arms and tossed on the conveyer belt leading to its ultimate doom that the real crying began.  And of course, Minty’s crying hurt Otto’s ears which made him cry thus leaving out Lucy who decided to cry as well to truly set the commotion level in Paris to eleven.  There we were our luggage eviscerated, children crying, the cat out of the bag; a spectacle familiar to Paris security yet still worth grabbing a buddy and gawking at.   After our short hop to Toulouse, we collected all of our luggage which when loaded onto three carts to maneuver with three children who refuse to walk and two rollie bags opened up a from-here-to-there challenge to arrive at the grumpy Renault man who was not impressed that we were three hours late.  But we made it.  We made it in one piece, with all of our bags and a scared but happy cat.  Lucy’s opening comment on French soil was, “Mommy! It smells like baguette!!”  Next step, can Brent fit the luggage and family into a teeny, weeny European car?  Stay tuned …

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