My final post for this blog

I'm going to try and wrap this thing up here folks...

We were in immigration in Miami..
So, we finally got through immigration and we sprinted towards the gate. We hadn't checked any baggage on the way home, so we just had two kids, two big bags and a camera bag. We tried to hurry, but Erickson was wanting to stop at every escalator. I don't blame him, they are cool. I wish I had two in my house. But, we needed to get on a plane, I didn't have time to introduce him to America yet.

We dashed to the gate and were relieved to find that our flight to Dallas was delayed. So, we gave each other a high 5 and John went to get some over-priced, bad food. We were sitting there awhile when we saw Tom. (He was on our flight from Port au Prince to Miami with his new daughter, Lise.) "Hey, what are yout doing here? We didn't realize we were on the same flight," we said to Tom.

"We you guys on the plane when we de-boarded?" Tom asked.
"What are you talking about?"
"We were on the plane and sat on the tarmac for about an hour, then they made us de-board. Evidentally Dallas had some snow and is not taking new arrivals. The flight was full."

John went up to the ticket counter. We deduced that we had actually missed the flight and when we didn't show up, they gave our seats away to stand-by people. So, now, we really didn't have tickets to Dallas. Tom went to the counter too, along with everyone else, to see about flight changes. (It's probably about 7 PM now.) So, I have 3 kids and all the luggage and John and Tom are in line. Then, we hear it announced that the flight has changed to a different gate. So, Tom and John practically run to the other gate. I get all three kids and the luggage and follow behind. I'm sitting on the floor with the kids for a good while (30-45 min.) when Erickson just takes off. He sprints away into the crowd. I practically throw Lovekender onto Lise and tell her "Rete ici" in Creole, "Stay here" and sprint after Erickson screaming, "ERICKSON" at the top of my lungs in the airport. I'm yelling to the crowd, "STOP HIM!" I finally catch him. I drag him,kicking and laughing, back to our spot on the floor. Luckily Lise and Love are still there. "KANPE!" STOP!! He thinks this is a funny game and keeps trying to run off.
I am reduced to holding him flailing. I'm sure this looks really great to all of the people shooting me sideways glances. I'm also feeling extra embarrassed when African-Americans look at me. I have know idea what they are really thinking, but I project that they are thinking something to the effect of, "Those poor black kids stuck with that pitiful excuse for a mother. She is so white and has no clue what she is doing." To add insult to injury, I'm wearing the remaining clothes that weren't shat upon. A thin, tight black t-shirt with white flowers on it with a teal spaghetti-strap knit sun dress on over it with coral colored socks with white poka-dots with Chaco sandals on. It's a great look, let me tell you. Meanwhile, Lovekender is just wearing a bathing suit. No socks, no shoes. It was all I had left clean. He did have some shirt on.
so, John finally comes back to us. He called American Airlines while in line and got us booked on a flight to Dallas. But, we don't know where Tom is. He is no where in sight. So, we take Lise, and Tom's luggage and go to our new gate. (We are on Gate number 3 now, I think.) Luckily, Tom is at that same gate waiting in line. Tom gets tickets too. They start boarding the flight. John is in line for boarding passes. They are about to close the flight. They say they can't get us on. I watch as the door to the plane closes. I really couldn't tell you what time it is at this point. (Let's say 8 or 9).
The poor Christmas Eve workers at the desk are trying to help the remaining people. What they really need is a stiff drink. The woman is trying to get us 4 tickets to Dallas that night. I mention that we really only need 3. She says, "How old is the youngest?" I say, "3, but he is 22 pounds and wearing 12 month clothing and I hold him the entire flight anyway. It is a wasted seat." She says, "I'll see what I can do." She gets us 4 tickets on the next flight out of Dallas. Unfortunately, the seats aren't together. She says they can probably change that when we get to the gate. We go sprinting off to another gate. (Did I mention that I am tired of sprinting while carrying a kid and luggage. And, that because John has to carry Erickson, I have to do the luggage. So, here I am in my ridiculous outfit with a tiny 3 year old strapped to me, a duffle bag over one shoulder and pulling a rolling carry on.) I wish I had it on video.
We get to the (fourth) gate and we start to board the flight. They are able to get our tickets 2 seats together and 2 seats. We board. John and Erickson are in row 7. Lovekender and I are in row 16. They tell us there will be a slight delay. That is when Love had his 1st bowel movement. The people in the seats infront of, next to , and behind me are covering their noses with the closest spare garmet they have. (I'm telling you it's foul folks.) It's embarrassing, but what the hell am I suppose to do? The sweet man behind me gets my bag from the overhead bin. I fish out a diaper and wipes one handed and head to the generously sized airplane bathroom. There, I change his blow out. I put him in some shorts that were dirty, but are now moved up to the "not so dirty" category. The man behind me puts my bag back up and we sit down. Love falls back asleep and I put him in the seat next to me with his head in my lap.
The flight attendants say we are ready for take off. The woman comes by and says that I need to be holding onto "my baby" as long as the plane is in motion. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, "This is the same 3 year olyd "baby" you all made me buy a seat for. Do I get my thousand dollars back?"
We start rolling out to the runway, then they announce that Dallas is still not taking new arrivals. We will now be enjoying a movie, "Up." My headphones don't work. I change another bowel movement. This time, I want to throw the soiled shorts away, but I'm afraid it will mess up the airplane trash system. So, I just stuff them in my bag that the nice man behind me keeps getting for me.
I ask the flight attendant, "If there is a seat by my husband, can I switch?"
"Sure," he says Gill. "Go right ahead." And then he heads on down the aisle. The words I should have chosen were, "Could you facilitate the single people around us moving seats so that we can sit together?" He must not be a dad.
The movie "UP" ended. We sat. Finally, we flew and 2 more diaper changes later, we somehow got to Dallas. We arrived at 2 AM
Dallas freezing!!!! Lovekender was half naked. I stopped and fished my jeans out of my bag and put them on under the dress. John's Dad had reserved us a hotel room, but it was far from the airport, "but he got a good deal." We stood out in the cold trying to find transportation to this hotel. There were no shuttles that went that far south of Dallas. I took the kids inside and John stood out there figuring out how the hell to get to this hotel. We ended up splitting a mini-van taxi with some other poor fools with hotels in no-man's land. We probably paid more for the transportation that the difference in a airport hotel price. But, alas, at least we had a place to stay. One thing I've learned from travel...anytime you think you are saving some money, you aren't really doing yourself any favors in the long run.
John and the boys passed out in the hotel. I HAD to take a shower. I didn't shower the entire time we were in Haiti. The Habitation Hatt shower wasn't doing it for me. I have to be REALLY dirty to take a cold shower. I'm too skinny, I never get warmed back up.
I finally went to bed at 3 AM.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Dec. 25th, 2009
Lovekender woke up at 5:30AM with another blow out. I just stuck him in the bathtub. His first warm bath ever!! I did video that. I woke John up at 6:15. We packed up, headed to the airport.
We were delayed again, and our seats were separate again, but no matter. It was our last flight! We finally boarded and flew from Dallas to Lexington. Erickson had a screaming fit for an hour of the flight. It was really bad. We were becoming more numb to these fits, but the looks on the faces of everyone around are pretty awful. I'm sure it also looks horrible. A big 6'2" white guy, physically restraining a 35 lb. black boy. If John let him go, he would just flail and hit and kick the seats in front of us. He had to hold him. My poor husband deserves a trophy the size of New Jersey!
FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY, we landed in Lexington. The best feeling ever. For the first time, I teared up. We really were home. We made it. We didn't die in a firey crash! Lovekender's tiny body was in my arms. I daydreamed about that moment everyday for 21 months. Every time I saw a plane, I would think, "Someday, that will be me landing with the boys." And here we were!!!! HOME! HOME! HOME!! Nou rete ici ensemble! "WE live here together, " I kept telling the boys. (They probably thought, "we now live on an airplane?!") Poor little dudes. I'd pay a lot of money to know what they were thinking.
We got off the plane and headed down the little escalator. Violet, Mom, Dad and Cy were waiting for us. Violet was jumping up and down and screaming. She immediately hugged and hugged and hugged Erickson. AHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh......we are home! We are family!!! Now, the real work begins.


This is the official end of "my haiti boys" blog. They aren't my Haiti boys any more. They are my sons, and before I know it, they will be young men. I just hope I can do right by them. I'm going to try my best. I'll make mistakes (and I already have), but there is always a new day to try again. I can always do better.

You can continue to follow our journey...
www.Lovekender.blogpot.com
www.VioletEstelle.blogspot.com
www.EricksonPierre.blogspot.com