Thirty-seven Hour Day

It is a bright, sunny Friday morning and I roll out of bed at 8:00 am. Time to get ready for our family trip to Curacao in the hot steamy Caribbean. My son, who I affectionally call "little bear", has just turned five an is excited to be going on a plane for the first time. He is up munching on a pop-tart as my husband Jon is pulling the covers over his head in an attempt to get a few more hours of sleep.

Our flight leaves at 6:00 am tomorrow morning. And like most things in life, the best deal on plane tickets involves a bigger city than our own that is about three hours away. So, 6:00 am for an international flight in a city three hours from home. Yep, this is a bit of problem. Hey! We are young, we can handle anything right?

After considering and discarding the idea of a hotel at the airport we are left with the option of taking off from home in the middle of the night to arrive at the airport before dawn. So here I am, up at 8:00 am on Friday morning and the realization that I won't get to bed until around 9:30 or 10:00 pm on Saturday. "Well," I tell myself, "I can always sleep on the plane."

Friday sped by in whirl of clothes, suitcases, bouncing child and cleaning. I hate coming home to a dirty house... so I'm glad I had time to scrub the bathrooms and mop the floors. Little Bear is tucked into bed with his stuffed puppy "Puppy" dreaming of airplanes as Friday evening draws to a close.

Everything goes well as we load up our luggage and sleeping child into the car around midnight. Jon and I are both excited about our trip and eager to make it to the airport on time. The drive is dark and peaceful. We listen to FOX News on satellite radio and laugh or scoff at the silly way they present information and sometimes at the information itself.

We pull into the airport around 3:00 am and park the car in the extended parking and even get a spot right next to a bus pick up station. Little Bear wakes up and is beaming with excitement through his sleepy smile. My husband is wonderful at planning and executing trips, there is always one brewing int he back of his mind. So I had no trouble believing him when he said, "The shuttles run 24/7 about every 10 to 12 minutes." These are the kinds of facts he would have sought out and remembered. So we wait. The minutes tick by and in the northern mid-west, the early June morning is chilly and I have pool Little Bear dressed in shorts and t-shirt. I pull the "car" blanket out and decide we'll take it with us; somehow we'll shove it in a bag. Time drags on with no sign of life at three am. The terminal looms in the distance and there is NO way we are walking. I glance at Jon wondering if I should ask how certain he is that the shuttles run 24 hours a day, just then we see the shuttle slowly moving toward us.

Then it turns before reaching us and continues through the parking lot and back to the terminal. What just happened? The indicator light on the top of our shelter is blinking away... why didn't they stop?
After a few moments of waiting and discussion about our luck we decide to walk down the shelter that isn't too far and close to where the shuttle turned. Indicator light flashing above the shelter we see a shuttle coming from the opposite direction. In our anxiousness it seems to take forever to wind ever closer. We are happy it finally stops, picks us up and takes to the airport.

Of course everything in the airport is closed at 3:00 am, including the check-in counters. So we join the people sitting around waiting for the ticket counter to open so we can check our bag. We pull out some apples, oranges and have a morning snack while we wait by a huge robot made of bridges. Little Bear, being obsessed with transformers thinks this is the coolest thing ever.

Bags checked we make our way through security to the terminal and see a skeleton of T-Rex. Little Bear has decided this is the neatest air port ever with robots and t-rex. "Just like Night at the Museum" he says as he looks up with wonder. I couldn't help but snap a photo.

This is where the excitement for Little Bear ends. We spend the next two hours waiting in plastic chairs....


Even a two hour wait is forgotten in the excitement of flying for the first time! Little Bear loved everything about take off.

Everything was going smoothly so after ordering a ginger ale for Little Bear, I decided to nap while he watched movies on his phone. Somewhere between waking and sleeping, I feel him touch my arm and press down but somehow my brain is startled and I jerk fully awake. As I jerk awake, I manage to knock the tray and send his ginger ale flying all over both of us. In typical Little Bear style he pats my arm and says, "Its ok Mommy."

After a connection in Miami and a sack of Wendy's, a quick catnap minus the ginger ale we land with ease in Curacao. Little Bear was so great through the long customs lines and soon we were picked up curb side by a local car rental agency. Leave it to Jon to find the best deals with the friendliest service. I watched from the air conditioned car as people waited in the hot sun at the national car rental companies. Did I mention my husband is the best?!

Despite being the best a picking out rentals and fabulous places, that doesn't mean they are ready for us when we arrive..... my short naps are wearing thin and we've go no where to rest.