Tomorrow night, at 11pm we are headed to the airport with our two year old sons.
Because we're crazy.
Really, it's because we're poor and the 1am to 9am flight to Virginia (yes, you read that right. SEVEN HOURS flying time and one cheerful layover at 4am) was half the price of a daytime flight.
But I think we've probably made up the price difference in my fearful compulsive spending.
I am so panicked about this flight.
I go to Target and wander around with this terrifying train of thought screeching through me: " Okay, it's 3am and the boys are exhausted but won't sleep. They're screaming. I'm exhausted. So I pull out of my bags... Candy necklaces! Tiny diggers! Tractor sticker books! Animal crackers... NO! Frosted animal crackers!
Really, what they're going to want all night long is milk. Oh man. Do planes have milk? And will they give each of my kids a gallon?
The thing is, we would go through a gallon or more in that time, if only we could get it through security.
I suspect they'll let the boys each take... A cup.
That is not enough.
Okay, just writing this post is making me panic again.
But hopefully I'll be back on Monday, writing from the East Coast- and none if us will be dead or traumatized.