From Houston to Heathrow

The last days leading up to our July 1st move went by with startling speed. I had forgotten how hard moving can be, particularly moving overseas. We never would have made it as well as we did without the help of our family and friends.

I am not one who easily asks for help but with less than a week to go before our move, I relented and called my sister. She will know better than to offer her help in the future! She arrived at our house at 8 am the next morning with the seats removed from her van, determined that she could fit everything in our house in the back of her van! We worked hard all day, reorganizing our storage buildings then moving things into them.

Later that night, the rest of my rescue team arrived in the form of my mom, grandmother and step-dad. We worked really hard but we also had some fun. I'll spare you all the details but we have a new family joke. If you need to move something big, just call Tricia. She can fit it in the back of her van. It will fit. Yes, it will. See? The picture proves it. That is the bottom of my Dyson vacuum, shoved up into a huge floor lamp, squeezed between two pieces of a five piece Thomasville entertainment center. Yeah, it fit but the van may need new shocks!

Even with all the work we have done in the past few months (and all the teasing I got about how early I started packing), when the airport car arrived at its scheduled time, we were NOT ready! I cannot even describe how NOT ready we were! Our neighbors were patiently waiting outside to send us off and the cleaning lady was already doing the final cleaning and I was still trying to convince Jackson that he didn't need to take all of his PSP games in his carry-on since his PSP was broken! The girls tried to hurry us along by dragging all of our luggage out to the driveway but I still had things to check and double-check.

Finally, I was alone in the house with the cleaning lady, trying to build up the courage to walk out the door. The little Hispanic woman (whom I have never met) said two words, "It's hard," and I burst into tears. I grabbed a box of tissues that hadn't been packed and headed out the door. There on my driveway was a bon voyage brigade the likes of which have only ever been seen on TV. Our friends and neighbors, whom we have come to think of as family, were waiting patiently, in the Texas heat, to bid us farewell. I'm glad I had the tissues!

While we were sad, our driver was in shock. Lucky for all of us, Kevin had warned them that we would be packing a full load so they brought a conversion van instead of the standard airport Lincoln or limo. Still, it was a trick to get all of our luggage in. It's a shame we didn't have Tricia's van.

At the airport, we reaped the rewards of Kevin's elevated BA flying status. Wait in line? Not us! We went straight to the desk and checked in 12 bags with only one being over the 51 pound limit. (Yes, it was mine, weighing in at 58 pounds but I weighed the suitcase after it was emptied and it weighed 17 pounds!)

We should have checked in 13 bags, but, at the last minute, Kevin decided to make one a carry-on. Too bad he didn't check the contents first! We had all been diligent about checking our carry-on bags for liquids and had appropriate items, down to lipgloss, bagged for security. But, what was in that newly-turned-carryon bag? All of our shampoo, bath gels, hand soap, hand santizer, etc. It all went into the garbage. I'm sure there is a life lesson there if you dig deep enough.

The plane ride was completely uneventful with Kevin riding in first class while the kids and I slummed in Club World. It has been four years since our last International flight together and I had forgotten how hard it is for my family to sit still. The next time we fly together, I'm going to do some hard negotiating for Kevin's first class seat. I think I'll get it!