What the hell was I thinking, agreeing to do this? That’s the problem with not thinking. Do not ever not think. Husbands do it all the time and we give them hell for it and now look at where it’s landed me. Not thinking is just baaaad.

We’re going to Disneyworld in a few days. It’ll take me all day to reach Orlando from Seattle with two kiddos, a flight with zero in-flight entertainment, a one-hour transit in Minneapolis, a laptop that claims a four-hour batt life only if you run, like, Notepad; one PSP to share between the three of us (thankfully the batt life trumps the laptop, now that’s a REAL gaming machine) and I just spent $50 on all sorts of “creative” implements that won’t get us kicked off the plane (hopefully).

Thank God we live in the age of Internet. I am totally a Cheat Sheet kind of gal and after Googling “flying with kids”, I am now the authority. I am ready. I am SO thinking:


Thinking that perhaps they should make families with children-only flights so I won’t have to battle all those dirty looks when Skyler decides to start a front-seat kicking contest.

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