~from Ami
Not just the title of a song off of 3 Doors Down's latest CD, I am putting my son on a flight to London this week. I don't have any worries about security over there- I'm confident this is a safe time to travel. I have the usual run of the mill "Mom" worries.

My sister Carrie will have to drive two hours to London with her newborn baby to collect my son at the airport. Will the baby be fussy? Will the wait be too long? Will she and the baby have a long walk from the parking lot to the terminal? And as I wrapped a present for little two-week-old Jacob this morning- a teeny Polo onesie and thick Carter's blanket, I started to cry. I really hate being so far from my sisters and my niece and nephews. I decorated my nephew's present with lizard stickers and his name in red and a note telling him we loved him.

Worry number two. My almost-sixteen-year-old, loosed upon the world at large. Last time he traveled solo, he was a "UM," airline lingo for Unaccompanied Minor. My son says during a layover at DFW, he had to sit in an undersized plastic chair behind the ticket counter, while the airline staff plied him with stale crackers and flat Pepsi. He does tend to embellish. This trip, he's totally on his own. My son is so laid back, nothing seems to bother him. How will this translate to catching connecting flights? Getting to the right gate? Will he be so enamored with the offerings of Cinnabon, Chili's, and TGIFridays that he'll just decide to stay on at the Houston terminal, spending his last Euro on cheese fries? Will he have sense enough to ask for directions if he needs them? I have printed out a map of the airport, using color coding and bold print to indicate his path of travel.

Worry number three. My sister and her husband want visitors to bring the weirdest things from the US: Spree candy, microwave popcorn, clam chowder, inexpensive saline solution, Neutrogena make-up. I can't imagine the chaos that will ensue if suitcase number one overheats in the cargo area. Natural buff-colored clam chowder-smelling saline solution all over three pounds of baby clothing.

My prayers are with all travelers this week. And if you should happen upon a young man with braces wandering through the Houston airport, Cinnabon in hands, cans of clam chowder dropping out his backpack, looking lost but happy, please direct him to the international terminal!