We made it!

Let me relate the story to all of you.

Jon left on August 1st to Chicago for a two week training. I being the planner that I am decided that it would be a good idea if Shayla and I arrived via plane on August 12 so that we could check into our apartment, hopefully the moving company would arrive with all of our stuff, and we would be able to start unpacking our apartment before Jon had to officially start in the Palo Alto office on August 16th. Jon flew in to the San Francisco airport on the 13th. That way we could avoid the 14 hour drive with a one year old. I thought this sounded like a great plan! Definitely less painful than a car ride. As I'm sure most of you are aware we made it safe and sound to California. So far we enjoyed our time here but when I first arrived Jon was afraid (and rightfully so) that I would turn myself around and buy a ticket back to Utah for Shayla and I.


Oh, the one detail I forgot to mention is that Jon drove one of our cars out to San Francisco on July 30th so that we wouldn't have to pay to move the second car. (The company paid to move one car, since we are a two car family that meant we needed to get the other one out somehow) Then he parked that car at the airport that he flew out of and that Shay and I would be flying into. We had it ALL planned out...

So the morning of the 12th arrives, Jon's parents had been kind enough to let me sleep at their house that night and then drive me to the airport at 5 am. We thought it would be best if I arrived in the morning so that I could get everything settled. That meant that I had a flight at 7am. ouch.

I dragged myself out of bed. Interrupted Shayla's peaceful slumber and we all loaded into the van so that I could begin this journey. I thought that if I could just get through the lay over in LA we would be home free...

Well we got through the layover and I got our bags. Now you have to realize the pathetic site I was walking through the airport. I had a baby in a stroller that I was pushing with one hand and two suitcases linked together be dragged by my other hand. I had multiple people offer to help but I declined because I could do this! I was tough!

Then I tried to find the car...

These were the instructions I had. We're parked in level 2 section D in long term parking. It's an orange section. It's in a parking garage. You may have to take  a shuttle, but I don't know because some terminals are right next to it, so you might just have to walk across the street.

So I just had to find a parking garage and 2D. I saw a sign for a parking garage, this was going to be easier than I thought. So I took the elevator and walked to the parking garage, took another elevator up to level 2 and saw D. Victory! So I dragged and pushed my way around section D. I went up and down all the aisles. No car. Then I looked down at the paper and it was supposed to be in an orange section. Well B was orange, D was purple. So I dragged and pushed my way to the other end of the parking garage and walked up and down section B. No car.

By this time I was hysterical. I had blisters on my feet. I was exhausted. I called  Jon, "Where did you park the car?" (I may have been a little meaner than that)

After a lot of "I'm sorry dears" from Jon I realized I was in a parking garage but not long term parking. So now I had to figure out how to get back to the airport. It was harder than it sounded. After a few maps and a few elevators I finally got back. Barely holding back the tears I went to the information desk and asked them how to get to long term parking. Go upstairs and across the street. OK.

So I went upstairs and saw a police officer and asked him. He told me to cross the street at a certain junction. ok.
Then there was a lady blocking my way. and she snapped at me to wait a minute when I tried to get around her. Yes me, the lady pushing a stroller with one hand and dragging 100 pounds of luggage behind her. So I waited there... and waited, holding back tears. Finally she looked up at me and smiled and I gave her a half smile back and walked past. Then she saw me. And said, "Oh, you poor dear." That is when I burst into tears. From that point on I had people offering to help me and miss their flights, get my luggage on the shuttle that would get us to the car (finally). And overall a huge outpouring of sympathy.

One woman said, "Well at least your home now!" Ummm, I'm just moving here today. "Oh well you have family around, right?" No... "Where is your husband?" Chicago, until tomorrow. "Do you know the area at all?" No. Then the bus driver asked me where my stop was and behind tears I said, "I don't know. My husband just told me 2D."

Looking back now it's fairly humorous. Then... not so much.

And poor Jon, in Chicago, can't help us at all, feeling horrible, crying along with me. Boy was I glad when that day was over!

I promised Shannon (Jon's Mom) that I would blog about this story. It's pretty classic.
We did eventually find the car after searching for an hour and a half. Got to the apartment. Our other car was delivered to us. I set up the pack and play and an air mattress. Met one of my neighbors who has an 11 month old little girl and just happens to be a pediatrician. She's taking the year off so that her husband could do a residency out here. Things started looking up. Now we are enjoying our time here. We've already started making friends which I am so thankful for. Heavenly Father has really been looking out for us.

I'm really glad I didn't turn around and buy a ticket back to Utah. Luckily for Jon the thought didn't cross my mind.