The Nightmare Before Christmas

And I'm not talking about the show produced by Tim Burton; I'm talking about the week we've had, produced by Delta, Continental, the weather, and Honda. We spent the past weekend in Houston doing a second-look interview. Monday morning, I woke up with a painful mastitis infection. Rob was scheduled to be busy interviewing until 3pm. We planned on doing a late check-out from our hotel: Rob would finish interviewing, help me pack, and then we'd fly home. Well, when I called the front desk to request a late check-out, they said it wasn't possible, and I HAD to be out at 11AM. I had a frantic morning (all while feeling lousy), trying to pack with one arm while soothing a wailing infant in the other. By 10AM I was already totally frazzled. I hauled all the suitcases down to the parking garage (no mean feat while lugging 14lbs of flailing baby), only to find myself locked out of the car, and without keys. Apparently, while still half-asleep, I'd told Rob to leave them at the front desk, and then forgotten all about it. So I was under the impression we'd stuck to our original plan to leave them inside the car (yeah, this is never a good idea anyways). And I couldn't call Rob and ask him about the key's whereabouts, because he did not have his cell phone with him on this trip. So I spent the day sitting in a hotel lobby, freaking out because I believed the keys were locked inside the rental car, with a really mad baby who NEEDED a nap, and just couldn't get calm enough to take one in the noisy lobby (I made sure to sit close to the desk of the mean guy who'd made me leave my room at 11AM; he kept giving me dirty looks about my crying baby, and I kept giving them right back). Rob finally showed up at 4PM. By this time, I'd called a lock-smith to unlock the car (which I was fortunately able to cancel). We drove to the airport, dropped off the rental car (where they accused of us denting the car-- yeah, right: it didn't hardly leave the hotel parking garage, thanks to the key gaffe-- we're still fighting this one out), and hustled off to our gate... where we learned that our flight was delayed due to weather. We sat in the airport for HOURS, waiting and waiting, and the flight kept getting pushed back later and later. It was about midnight when they finally cancelled the stupid thing. We were able to get a hotel (I'll spare you the blow-by-blow account of this-- it wasn't real easy, as there were alot of people in our same situation), and work on rescheduling a flight. Since all flights to Little Rock for the day had been cancelled, they were all booked out until Wednesday; but they said we could fly through Atlanta, and get home on Tuesday. Okay. Fine. So we went to the hotel, slept, got up the next day and went back to the airport. Again, our flight's departure time kept getting delayed. Then we finally boarded and sat on the runway for an hour (TJ LOVED this part-- and remember that I'm feeling awesome myself with the whole mastitis thing). By the time we made to Atlanta, our connecting flight to Little Rock was long gone, and the next one was full. But the helpful Continental lady said she could get us home to Little Rock flying through Houston. Ha ha ha. So we were stranded for another night. Luckily, Rob's sister, Heather, lives near Atlanta and was able to rescue us from another hotel. The one redeeming facet was being able to spend some time with her family (see the cute kids in the previous post). So the next day, we again return to the airport to try and get home. Again. Our flight keeps getting delayed. Again. We FINALLY finally make it to Little Rock this time, though. It is with a deep sense of relief that we get off the plane, walk to our car, load up, turn the key... Hmm. Turn the key again... Please start, please start... TJ is screaming, it's cold, it's late... We fought that car for a while, but it just wasn't going to happen. We were able to find a ride home from the airport (THANKS, Sally!!!), and crawl into bed sometime around 1AM. Thursday morning, Rob had to work so he took our remaining car. TJ started to develop a fever, which climbed slowly as the day went on. He got fussier and more uncomfortable, which--being the new mom I am-- made me start to panic a little. Rob was going to check his ears for an infection, but, lo and behold, the other car wouldn't start. So one car was stranded at the airport, one was stranded at the hospital, and I had a sick and crying baby. Awesome. Just awesome. So our night ended with getting the car towed to a repair shop, going back to the airport to get a rental car, and finally collapsing in bed sometime after midnight. I'm still waiting to hear what the repair shop wants to fix the car. That may be the real nightmare.

Here are a few pictures from the hours spent in the airport. Isn't my baby awesome?
And here is Rob, working on teaching TJ about football. Early indoctrination is key, he claims.