Sometime's riding solo isn't so fun.

Yesterday was just one of those days. Traveling by yourself with a toddler and all of their stuff is not something I recommend. The fact that I am totally my mother reincarnated (meaning I cannot pack lightly) may make it slightly worse. But there I was strolling through the airport with Max in the stroller, my diaper bag in the bin below, my backpack full of all the extra just in case essentials clipped to the stroller, a duffel bag with my pack and play over my back, the big convertible carseat over my arm that is pushing the stroller, and pulling the roller suitcase full of clothes. Then the stroller wheels hit a piece of trash and got going out of control and I thought I was going to be in train wreck city. Luckily I stabled myself and meandered to the counter. I was more than a little frustrated and then they guy at the ticket counter had the gumption to ask why I didn't have someone to help me. Ugh. I made a snarky comment of why my husband couldn't help me and put him in his place, but it really irritated me. There was no need for such negativity.

Max had a super runny nose and was a little cranky, but in spite of that did decently on the place. I thought thinks might be looking up and then the emotions got the best of me. There was a gentleman on our plane in uniform and for some reason it just triggered sadness for me. I haven't seen someone in ACUs in forever. Then watching him unload his bags made me think back to how many times I had seen GB lug his around.

This was the mood I was in as I begin the trek out to my car with my luggage. It was quite the process and several people offered to help me. I think I have seen too many Law and Order: SVU episodes because my mind raced to all sorts of horrible scenarios so I politely declined after thanking them for there offer. Finally after what seemed like a sweaty hour, I arrived at my car and hit the unlock button. Nothing. No click. No unlocking. Nothing. I stuck the key in the door with a sinking feeling in my gut. Sure enough. My battery was beyond dead. Ugh. So I did what every other person in my position would do. I cried and called my mom. Sometimes I am such a baby.

Thanks to the Airport Parking Department for coming and jumping my car. And thanks to the maker of Landshark beer because it was just what I needed after a not so awesome day of traveling.