Yesterday started with some desk work. And then I moved 4 cubic yards of dirt while my dog looked on admiriningly. In full disclosure (and because I’m sure she’ll mention it if I don’t), Robbi helped, but I did not include a photo of her helping in hopes of solidifying in your mind the image of me moving all this dirt by myself. Because this is a post about my long day.

After we moved the dirt, we picked up the kids from school a bit early. We spent a half-hour at the playground in hopes of “tiring the kids out” before our flight to Kansas City. I’m sure this “tiring the kids out” strategy goes back to cave man times, and I bet it’s never worked.

Then we drove north through Delaware, over my very favorite bridge.

Our destination: the Philadelphia Airport, where the children cheerfully agreed to pose with me curbside…

…in exchange for the opportunity to pose cheerfully with their mother moments later.

There was no shortage of shenanigans as the kids and I and our baggage and the jogging stroller passed through security. At one point, Alden and Kato disappeared entirely while August and I had our persons inspected.

But I found them moments later, sunbathing near the food court.

Deciding it was high time I teach them some wilderness survival skills, I named our destination and asked them to discover the identity of our gate.

The folks at Friendship Montessori would have been proud. Kansas City starts with K. Kato confirmed it.

As we walked to B14, the kids stole every opportunity to look out the windows in search of airplanes. Fortunately, we had arrived 90 minutes early, per my preference, so we had the chance to take a leisurely stroll down the jetway.

Our gate provided a commanding view of the control tower.

And a couple of other kids whose parents were also game to “tire them out” before the flight.

While we were waiting, a plane rolled in. We watched as a crew of workers attached the gangway, removed the luggage, and refueled the plane.

It was gripping theater.

At one point, August noticed the tag Robbi had placed on his back on the way to the airport. Her thinking was this: “It is quite possible that Matthew will lose this child. If he is about to begin a new life with another family, at least they should know his name.”

Kato lounged by the window, growing more independent and diffident by the minute.

For her part, Alden…I’m not sure how describe what happened to Alden. Excitement over the approaching plane ride took her to a special place.

I think this photo might resurface at some point in the future when leverage is required. I shall file it under “blackmail.”

And let me count among the blessings of the modern age, the phenomenon of the family bathroom. When traveling alone with three small children, two of whom need diaper changes and one one of whom is in a special place, there is no greater gift.

For his part, Kato was put out by the facilities. After examining the diagram explaining the proper function of the infant changing table, he became agitated. As he saw it, there were supposed to be two seatbelts that met at a buckle in the middle. Kato is all about buckles.

And so he was dismayed to find that one of the seatbelts was missing, making an impromptu buckle job impossible.

It was all I could do to keep him from reporting the incident to the airport authorities.

His fascination with the almost child accessible water fountains helped my cause.

Once onboard, Alden played Angry Birds while Kato studied up on emergency landing procedures.

August sat cheerfully in my lap during takeoff, but once the apple juice ran out, he took to the aisles, charming (most) of those around us. There was one stubbornly put-out curly headed woman in the row behind who apparently is not moved by impish grins and curls. That is her right, I suppose.

I must thank my mother for sending us with Easter-themed sticker sets, which commanded a solid 15 minutes of attention around the halfway point.

There were moments of temporary distress. No one wanted to sit next to the guy in the baseball hat on the other side of the aisle, but we all took turns paying our dues.

The kids were amazed at the view. It was August’s first chance to gaze down at it all.

Eventually the plane landed, the kids grabbed their rolling suitcases, and sprinted for the terminal.

Where Grandpa John was waiting.

August helped identify our bags.

And his Grandpa.

All in all, the kids were great. They arrived intact, in good cheer, and without undue harm to their father.

And then we drove home, through Kansas City, to Lee’s Summit where my Dad and Judy live.

The boys were both asleep by the time we got home. Alden followed soon after.

Which is to say, we arrived safe and sound. Thanks for all of your support (and concern).

It’s good to be here. I’m glad the return flight isn’t for two weeks.