Das Flugzeug

11:45 a.m. - We finally left our apartment after packing and cleaning all night. Why did it take all night? It's not like we had to move any furniture, afterall. Well, because all we had eaten the day before were desserts. Ha! Let me explain: We needed to get rid of the rest of our ingredients before we left. And we had sugar! So we made chocolate chip cookies and apple pie (oh, and the rest of our box of DOZEN donuts from Talk Like A Pirate Day Krispy Kremes). Don't worry, we shared. But we were a little lethargic.

12:13 p.m. - We arrive at the airport. We unload the Nissan and proceed to bring all our luggage inside. Need I remind you that we had a lot? Then it was up to me to bring all that luggage to a check-in desk while Curtis ran over to return the rental car. I shed a tear for those comfy seats.

12:37 p.m. - Curtis returns from returning the car and I'm still in the same spot in line I was when he left. Since flying with babies is so uncommon, we were booted to "Special Services," again.

1:02 p.m. - Oh, Security. Is there anyone who loves it? This girl did. It must have been like a spa treatment to her or something because right in the middle of the whole process, she just lulled away . . . .

1:25 p.m. - Found our gate. We sat down. Then had to get up to let Sebastian watch planes take off. I'm not sure he understands what's really going on, but he sure loves planes.

2:00 p.m. - We get to board early, as compensation for waiting in line for "Special Services."

2:46 p.m. - Weren't we supposed to take off at 2:30? I guess air traffic is a real thing. But since planes can't just stop mid-air like cars stop on the highway, we had to park it for an extra 45 minutes before we could take off! Which was longer than the entire 37 minutes we were in the air.

3:55 p.m. - We land in Atlanta. The attendants came on over the PA system to remind everyone to stay seated unless they had a connecting flight that boarded within twenty minutes. So of course, everyone tried to get off the plane as soon as the fasten seat belt sign turned off. I think probably 5 other people waited to deplane. At least we had the train (since the Atlanta airport is GIANT) all to ourselves.

4:19 p.m. - Despite our hunger for something non-sugar, we decided against getting McDonald's in the airport. (Spoiler: We were fine). I ran to the bathroom while Curtis took Sebastian to look at more planes. When I came back, I couldn't find them. Was I even in the right place? Oh, what was that? Boarding already?? That was quick! We were expecting to board 30 minutes before takeoff, but I suppose international flights board one hour before. Who knew!

5:00 p.m. - We are off! Stuttgart bound! And we are already like twenty minutes into our movies.

OK, now don't get offended, but by this point, I lost all track of time. It was basically minute by minute for the rest of the nine-hour flight. We watched a few movies, ate a few snacks, and kicked a few people—erhm . . . one woman—a few times. Those minutes seemed to last the longest, especially when that woman shot me an icy look, as if I weren't acutely aware of what Sebastian was doing. I called the flight attendant, just to let her know how terrible I felt, and to let her know this woman had her seat reclined all the way back. He wouldn't be able to reach her if she had her seat up. "Well, I can't ask her to move her seat forward. Everyone has the right to recline their seat. Has she said anything to you?" Well, technically no, but if her looks could  speak . . . . "Well, I'm not going to draw attention to it, especially since we've had problems in that area recently. She knows she has a baby behind her." I just wanted to make you aware. I just feel really bad. "Don't. We were all that little once."

And she was right.

She was right that Sebastian's little. And she was right that I shouldn't feel bad. He was having just as hard a time as the lady in front of him, only he couldn't quite control his emotions in the same way. And I was doing the best that I could—including staying up with him until 11 p.m. our time (5 a.m. Stuttgart time) when all I wanted to do was sleep. And guess what? Just like all hard things, this flight came to an end. Now we're settled in a cute little apartment in a lovely neighborhood, just waiting to explore what's around us . . .

. . . as soon as we sleep off some of this jet lag.

Hello, Charlotte!

Not going to lie, Charlotte, but our welcome was pretty lousy. I would have thought your Southern hospitality would extend to the sky, but alas.

We scheduled our morning just so, so that we could make it to the airport on time. We made it on time. Then things got ugly. Mind you, we were hauling around two babies, two car seats, four large suitcases, two carry-on suitcases, a stroller, a duffle bag, a backpack, and a diaper bag. Just getting to the airport was an ordeal. Two separate cars were required. Getting inside was another story. We moved, piece by piece, through the revolving doors to a massive line to print our boarding passes. I'm not sure what made the airport so busy today, but curses to whatever it was. Amid the hustle and bustle of a moving line and a moving toddler, we couldn't figure out why my boarding pass didn't look like Curtis's. An attendant, who kindly (and sorely) brought us a suitcase we had left at the beginning of the line, checked our papers and sent us to "Special Services."

Apparently, our first flight to Minneapolis was delayed just enough for us to miss our flight to Charlotte. We would have had to stay the night until Sunday morning. Funny, Curtis's boarding pass alerted him to no such delay. Were they just going to surprise him when he landed in Minneapolis? Shame, Delta! And certainly there was another option besides staying the night in Minnesota. Can you imagine little us, trying to get all that luggage (and babies and car seats and bags and stroller) out of baggage claim, to a hotel, and back to the airport in the morning? Not a chance. The lady behind the counter tried so hard to find another flight for us, but she just couldn't. So how is it, you ask, that Curtis was able to find another flight through Atlanta within 10 minutes? We aren't sure how, but it took her nearly a full hour to find the same flight in her system that Curtis found on his phone.

That's not even all of it.

Trying to figure out what to do with our 11 pieces of luggage

 We rescheduled our flight to Sunday morning, so that meant we had to move all our luggage back outside, go get the cars, drive back . . . oh wait. Did I not mention we already moved out of our apartment? Luckily, we still had our apartment because Eva Lu and Marty were going to use it after Marty's surgery. But there wasn't much in it. And Sebastian's crib was neatly tucked away in the storage unit. And all our clothes were vacuum packed in our suitcases. And we had no food or dishes. And we had only enough paper diapers to last us that day.

Yet, somehow, we survived.

Our flight from Portland left bright and early Sunday morning, and with the layover in Atlanta and the three-hour time difference, we wouldn't arrive in Charlotte until 10 p.m. I had arranged with someone from the ward to help us get from the airport to our apartment since we most likely wouldn't be able to fit all of our junk in the trunk of our (who knows what size) rental car.

The flight itself went well. Sebastian behaved and Livia was an angel. We, of course, didn't expect anything else.

Wearing noise-canceling headphones during nap time

We got some dinner in Atlanta. And then we got a gate change. And then a delay. The crew for our flight was still in the air on their current flight. Fifteen minutes. No big deal. Then another fifteen minutes. I called our help in Charlotte to let them know. Another thirty minutes. I called back. These delays put us in Charlotte around 11 p.m. If she were to drive to the airport, wait for our luggage, wait for our rental car, and drive back, we wouldn't be back until clear after midnight. She assured me it was still OK, but if the flight were delayed again, she would not be able to make it.

Another hour.

"I suppose we'll just have to figure something out when we get there. Maybe we can get a taxi. Or have the airport ship us our luggage." At least we had time to make a plan! Did I mention it was Father's Day? We didn't get Curtis anything.

Happy Father's Day!

When we finally boarded, it was probably 10:45. The flight itself lasted only about thirty minutes. We probably could have driven to Charlotte by now, we thought. Sebastian took another nap (which would help him stay wide awake until 4 a.m.). Since we landed after midnight, Curtis left me to fend for myself getting the car seats, the stroller, our carry-ons, our duffle, and the diaper bag . . . and the babies to the baggage claim area. He sprinted to the car rental before it closed for the night.

Heaven sent us two Southern angels to drive all our stuff to the baggage claim. They pulled my bags off the belt for me and placed them on my very own cart. Then Heaven sent us a compact car.

Now, I believe this is one of those miraculous experiences that science cannot explain: We fit everything we had in that 2014 Ford Focus. Three large suitcases in the trunk, two car seats in two adjacent back seats, two carry-ons under the car seats, the stroller folded in the front passenger seat with the last large suitcase balanced on top and the backpack on the floor. Then I squeezed in the back with the last two bags on my lap. And I believe if we tried to fit everything in there again, it would seem impossible.

Heaven was not finished. We pulled into our apartment complex and looked at the first building on our left. "Well, here's where number 207 is." We got out, unlocked the door, and brought everything inside. It was already after 2 a.m. It wasn't until the next day that we found out every building has a number 207. Did we really just pull up to the exact building (There are dozens of buildings.) on the first try? Lucky break or tender mercy? We tend to favor the latter.

Charlotte, you welcomed us well after a hard weekend. I suppose Southern hospitality is a thing afterall.