Felt more bad ass at Mothering than at an airport.

What is it about airports that just brings out the inner bad ass in us mamas?

I felt like Wonder Woman last Sunday as I had one hand on the stroller, pushing FoH, and the other rolling two suitcases, coats and his bear backpack carry on.

There’s been a handful of solo airport times for me and let me tell ya, they get my heart rate going at about 20,000 beats per minute.

Because you just DON’T KNOW. Any meltdown is possible. Any slew of horrific behaviour possibilities could happen.

I was thankful AF that this was not a solo travel time for me — particularly given our five hour delay and FoH having a fever of 103. I logged over 11,000 steps in that damn airport and was thanking God and FoH for being so fabulous.

My sweet little guy just sat there the whole time in the stroller with his blanket. Not one word of complaining. Not one tear. He was a real trooper.

What a kid I have, People.