Band on the Diaper Run: Last Exit

Kori Gardner of Mates of State

We left a thank-you note on the counter bidding farewell to our friends. I also left a couple pairs of underwear, which I've done on so many occasions traveling that it's become my tour trademark. We also left some toys, some books and my camera. Magnolia's been crying lots and lots at night, so none of us has been getting much sleep. Jason and I have vowed to do the cry-it-out method of sleep training when we get home. We did it when Magnolia was five months old and although it didn't make her sleep through the night, it did help her fall asleep on her own. Lately, nights have been as hard as when she was a newborn. So, I think we need to go back to the methods we used during her baby year. She is literally waking up all night long, unable to calm herself down. She's also only able to sleep in between her parents — who, I might add, haven't had a night alone in a long time, even though they spend every waking minute together.

The plane ride home, with a stop in Charlotte, was easy. I had to give Maggie my earplugs when her ears hurt and there was a little turbulence, but I only needed to take half my flight pill. There was a little baby in front of us. Her parents held her up over the seat facing us so Magnolia and the baby could entertain each other. This was a great time-waster considering we sat on the runway for an hour. Still, Mags kept saying, "How come we aren't flying yet?! I want to go in the air or get off of the plane!!" Could you imagine if she was on that Jet Blue flight that sat on the ground for thirteen hours? She would have freaked out. Or, maybe she would have just started singing, I have no idea. She is utterly unpredictable.

After we landed, we grabbed our suitcases, equipment and boxes of T-shirts, and took the train to the long-term parking lot at JFK. The parking lot felt like home. Magnolia really wanted to push the cart with her dad. So, the cart, with all ten bags piled on was pushed by Jason and a little squirt of a kid underneath him. I took a picture with my phone from behind them. (That's it, above.) And just then, feeling worn out and relieved to be home, I heard Magnolia singing, "How many roads must a man walk down, before you can call him a man? / The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind / The answer is blowin in my wind." It doesn't get much better than that.