As it’s been clearly documented, I just love flying.
Seriously, even I annoy myself.
But this time, on top of my own butt clenching, palm sweating, tongue numbing fear to fly, I had a whole slue of other things to worry about.
Namely, the task of getting three children to the airport, through security, and in the air.
I’m not going to lie here, I am one of those people who found themselves up at 3am, 20 links deep into articles of TSA gorilla style groping and scare tactics, and after my second hour of you tube videos, I was gathering my torch and pitchfork.
Like I didn’t have enough to worry about at the airport?
Now we have the possibility of my kids losing their shit in the middle of Security because some asshole with a name tag is feeling inside the waist of their pants, and dude, I am a horrible actor, at no point could I pretend to be ok with that.
Andy, please, let’s just drive, it’ll be fine, we’ll borrow some car dvd players, it will be an adventure.
We’re not driving 18 hours when we could fly there in 2, the tickets are non refundable, I don’t care how much xanax you have to take to get yourself on the plane, just take it.
I knew things were off to a stellar start when we arrived to find that all of Spirit’s computer systems were down, nation wide.
The line was wrapped around the airport, as they were handwriting boarding passes like it was straight 1900s and we were riding on a bi-plane.
I halved the 1mg emergency xanax in my pocket and let it dissolve on my tongue while trying to maintain control of the kids.
I have no idea how much longer we will have to wait.
Stop touching people we aren‘t related to.
No, we aren’t on an airplane yet.
Yes, I am hungry also.
I have no idea what’s on that old lady’s neck, it’s looks like melanoma, but really, it’s none of my business, so let’s just stop asking out loud, ok?
Three checked car seats, two checked bags, and one checked double stroller later, we made our way to security, poor and exhausted.
I made sure we were all in metal free clothing. No zippers, buttons, clasps or buckles.
Leggings for all, the terrorists win.
We made it through unscathed, redressed ourselves, and hunted down some soft pretzels for the kids as we watched planes from our gate.
By the second take off, Jude decided he changed his mind. He doesn’t want to fly in a airplane.
And while I may have thought, you and me both, man, I found myself in pep talk mode.
It’s just like driving in a car, only in the air, with wings, and you totally don’t fall out of the sky, it’s completely safe, they give you nuts and soda, it’s super fun.
By the time we reached cruising altitude, Gigi had vomited down the front of Andy, who was then trapped in his seat by an oblivious flight attendant and her beverage cart.
When she finally wheeled away, I saw Andy staring at me across the aisle, screamy, puke soaked baby in hand, saying…now what?
Now what?
You take this tiny baggie of almost dried out baby wipes into that sardine can of a bathroom and wipe the baby off so she stops screaming, and then, if you find you have any wipes left, scrub the mushed up food and curded milk off the front of your shirt and pray it like hell it doesn’t happen again, that‘s what.
You see, Andy, having never flown with children, had been living in this delusion that shiny toys and video games would tide them over long enough so they didn’t throw a fit and bring the plane down, heck, he even brought magazines to read and pass the time. You know, in case he got bored. He never once considered motion sickness, or that the king size Kit Kat he used to lure them down the jet way would eventually backfire down the front of him.
By the time he returned to his seat, he was green.
And then, the turbulence started.
He handed me the baby.
Something was wrong.
His body was numb. He couldn’t move his arms. His chest felt weird.
What is wrong with you?
I don’t know, I think I am having a heart attack.
What?
Seriously, I am all numb.
You are probably just stressed between the baby and the bumpiness.
Nah, this stuff doesn’t bug me, there is something seriously wrong with me.
Um ok, should I ask if there is a doctor in the house?
This isn’t funny.
I’m not being funny, Andy, I have three kids on my lap, and I took a vote and we all think the plane is going to crash, so, you dying of cardiac arrest 14 billion miles above the earth is totally gonna stress me out right now.
Andy threw up into the tiny white paper bag.
I took the other half of my xanax and used my spit to force it down my throat.
Two hours later, we began to descend. Andy, pale and holding onto his second glass of $9 ginger ale, me, a shell of my former self, with pit stains three small children clinging to me, and the contents of my purse spread across a tray table, including all six top secret governmental tampon rocket launchers.
The moment we touched down, Wyatt looked at me to tell me his ears hurt…and then threw up all over my legs.
On the one hour van ride to The Villages, where Andy’s parents live, he and the kids slept.
I stared out the window as we weaved through cookie cutter stucco neighborhoods, passing golf cart after golf cart, strategically placed mature palm tree after palm tree.
We pulled into a house completely unremarkable from the ones around it, lugged in our bags, and collapsed on the bed.
He apologized for being utterly useless on the plane, and said he truly thought he was having a heart attack.
I brought him half a xanax, welcomed him to his first panic attack, and let him spend the rest of the night in the fetal position telling me how weird the pill was making him feel, and how he is pretty sure he was high.
I decided Andy would need to get his own xanax.
I’ve never been good at sharing, and the .5 dose was clearly too strong for his normally mentally stable, there’s only one crazy person in this family, man brain.
Had I given him the full 1mg, he would have spent the evening in a diaper, nursing from my teet.
And, I need another one of those, like I need a hole in my head.
HO-LY-SHIT. You are really not cut out for this flying thing! :(
LOL I love you – you are hilarious
There should be some sort of lounge in the airport for parents who fly with young children… one with sound-proof glass walls so we can see them but not hear them, while we sip on yummy drinks and eat delish snacks. Flying with children is no fun, but clearly you have now paid your dues. If Karma is on your side, the flight home will be a breeze.
I will print this out and re-read it before every flight to remind myself that it isn’t as bad as it could be. Kids on a plane are one thing. Puking kids on a plane??? I agree with previous poster… “Welcome to Sainthood”. :)
I think its great you like to fly. I dread it. I only flew a couple of times when my kids were little.
I hate to fly. My sportsman is even trying to plan a trip where I wont have to fly.
Did you read the post at all?
hehe S :P
Bwahahaha!
oh xanax the great giver of magical highs.
can I just tell you this story gave me all sorts of fears: kids, heart attacks, panic attacks flying
They make chewable dramamine for kids. It’s AWESOME. It totally helps with the motion sickness and has the added bonus of making them sleepy! Good luck on the way home….
Would it be weird if I said I love you?
Oh my God. I’m sorry this happened, it sounds like a flight straight from hell. But the ending of your post had me laughing out loud. How is it that husbands usually manage to turn into another child when things get crazy, and Mom always has to hold it together? Hope you are enjoying every moment of your hard-earned and well-deserved trip!
I may have snorted at the part when Wyatt threw up. Sorry about that.
My husband’s grandmother lives in the Villages, and his parents have a house there too. I’ll definitely think of that song the next time we go – too appropriate!
“Leggings for all, the terrorists win.” Oh you make me laugh! This also took me back to the time my son threw up on my on takeoff and we weren’t allowed to get out of our seat until the plane was in the air. I had to peel his baby-self off of my mama self. And did I mention I didn’t have a change of clothes for either one of us? Fortunately the stewardess gave me one of her own personal hoodie sweatshirts and we wrapped my son in an airline blanket.
Threw up on me, I meant to type.
sounds about as much fun as my flying with 2 kids by myself experience. I REFUSE to do it again! You are much braver than I going with 3 little ones. Here is my story.
http://qcmommysadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/stairs-of-doom.html
Beyond hysterical…As funny as everything you wrote was, and always is.. the song from Weeds was my fav part..as I live in FloriDuh and that is EXACTLY how my husband and I feel! the rest… well it kinda freaked me out!
I have had that flight….. only ours was 13 hrs from Australia to the US…… only my boobs had stopped working and the baby was on formula, and we ran out of formula (6 bottles should have been enough, right? In a scenario where the baby wasn’t vomiting in between bloodcurdling screams, maybe). So I hear ya….. Didn’t stop me laughing so hard I almost peed myself though…… this is gold.
I just flew with my 3 little ones to the VERy same place (rhymes with Millages). We did it. It sucks, but coming home just sucks so much more.
Hysterical! (Well maybe not for you). Thank you so much for sharing in the wonderful way that you do.
Wish I knew you were flying Spirit. Would have tried to steer you away from that. There is a reason they are so freaking cheap!
Are you renting a car to drive home?
Totally have that song stuck in my head now.
You have reinforced my personal goal to NEVER fly with my children until they’re much, much older. 20-year olds like Disney World, don’t they??
Yeah, you have a case of “Wait I have one more kid than I thought I did” syndrome. Sorry to say there is no cure. It does become an active disease at unusual times, like flying. It can have long dormant periods. Typically those are times of impregnantation (is that a word?) so beware. Should warn you that it becomes very active at Christmas, especially when putting toys together and putting up Christmas lights. Avoid both activities if you can.
Hope the flight home was better! Love your writing!
You are my Xanax! When I feel all “Calgon take me away” I come here and can relax and smile. Who needs to meditate, anyway?
Wow! You have all the fun . . . From where I am to the land of the mouse is a 5.5 hour flight, filled with children. Thankfully none were mine and no one has ever puked on me or I would have puked back.
I hope the rest of your trip was the thrilling kind of fun, not the sarcastic ‘are we having fun yet’ kind of fun. I am laughing WITH you.
How are you getting back??
[…] Andy, on the other hand, was passed out with the kids on the Dramamine I drugged them with to make it home without me killing someone. […]
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