5 Hour Layover

I just got back from my family Thanksgiving, or Chrisgiving as we call it. We alternate holidays with the in-laws. When my family gets together for Thanksgiving, we celebrate Christmas as well: Chrisgiving as my sister, Jessa coined it. This year we had the opportunity to go to south Florida where my parents live. In the last few years we have met somewhere in Tennessee to accommodate my sister's pregnancies/baby born times.

To say that the weather was nice is like saying the beach is cute. Amazing. Weather. I'm still in cold shock. I had a wonderful two weeks with my family, and Thanksgiving with the whole gang. What I want to write about now is the little glitch on the way down to Florida.

I'll title the trip: 5 Hour Layover. Being a smart Mom, I booked myself a nonstop flight with my two sons (Jason was traveling separately because of his work schedule). We were to leave Wednesday morning (a week before Thanksgiving, avoiding the crowds) at 1030am and arrive in West Palm Beach at around 1pm. We had to get up early to make it to the flight on time. The boys slept fairly well and I had packed mostly everything the day before. Jason woke me up to feed the baby and start getting ready for the day and I went to the bathroom and went right back to bed. Suddenly my stomach was wracked with intense pain. Fetal position pain. I thought: crap, I can't travel sick with two kids. I told Jason what was happening- tried to um.. work things out- but to no avail except some dry heaving. He continued to get things ready just in case and I fell back to sleep after the pain finally subsided long enough to allow me to sleep. Meanwhile Jason called to find out how much it would be to change the tickets. $600. Because US Airways wants you to fly AND vomit with them. I woke up about an hour later feeling pretty normal. I gave Jason the go and took a quick shower and we shoved ourselves out the door. We got on the road around 9am, with an estimated 30 minute drive to hopefully be at the airport an hour (tight) ahead of our flight. Not so. DC traffic strikes again and we arrived at 10am.

The woman at the counter confirmed what I learned at the check-in kiosk: I'm too late. I've missed my flight and now I have a 3 year old, a 7 month old, two car seats, a stroller and a suitcase with no flight plan. Luckily Jason was still with me as I attempted to work some magic with the airline person. No magic was had. She was inexplicably slow (as she checked me in for a 1040am flight and then realized that it too, was not going to work). I think she was honestly trying (without much gusto or personality- but trying) to help me. There were two options: a flight leaving at noon with a 5 Hour Layover in Charlotte, or the nonstop flight the next morning. Policy was that she had to put me on the next available flight, since I had missed my flight. I begged her to put me on the 1030am flight. She looked like she might have wanted to. Then Mr. Airline Manager came to the scene. The woman visibly stiffened. I was screwed. She said that I wanted the 1030 flight and he spoke about me in third person, two feet from my face. "She MISSed her flight, so SHE will have to be put on the next available flight..." etc. I begged him- showing him the cute faces of my children and explaining why we were late. The grace button was not pushed. Jason had been hanging behind with the kids and came up for an update. I gave the update, laced with a little acid about the helpfulness and grace and mercy of the employers.

Then it dawned on me. I couldn't change a damn thing. We were going to either fly the 5 Hour Layover or pay $600 to change the flight. Either way it sucked, and I was going to have to deal with it. I decided to change my attitude. (For those who know me well- this was an act of extreme growth on my part.) SO I decided that we were going to make it. It was going to be ok and we were going to get there. And you know what? It for real made the day doable. I KNOW myself, and if I hadn't made that grown-up decision to stop sulking or simmering, the day would have been a disaster. Instead I made it through the tough moments when I was physically exhausted from walking a 3 year old and steering a 7 month old while the 3 year old tried to wander off or stand directly in the middle of airport "traffic" and the 7 month old screamed himself to sleep. In the end, there were actually some sweet moments and I was able to appreciate them.

Basically I was shoved in the back of the plane for the first flight and there was one empty seat next to me. I hoped it would remain so- but as I saw a woman continue to walk to the back of the plane, I knew she was my seat-mate. The moment she recognized where she was sitting was the best, most real expression of panic that I have ever seen in my life. I would pay money to see it again. She frantically looked for empty seats, refused to sit until she was sure she had no other options, and managed to neither speak to me or make eye contact for the entire flight. I tried to make nice, letting her off the hook for wanting to sit somewhere else and making the hopeful promise that my kids usually travel well. The ladies in front of me were making eyes at my boys, and at the end of the flight one of them turned to me and said: you were right, your boys were very well-behaved. I swelled with pride. My positive attitude made it so the terrified lady was actually the funniest thing about my day. I wasn't angry, but strangely amused. Her worse nightmare was my every day choice. HA! I've never seen someone so uncomfortable around children. The second flight went well, with some moments where I had to be creative to keep Hunter entertained. When the sky grew dark and the city lights started shining- Hunter began to tell me everything he saw: ships, cars, houses, buildings, trucks, planes. It was musical how magic the scene was for him. When we landed, the also kid-hesitant seat-mate of this flight was kind enough to complement my children as well as several others on the plane. Again I swelled with pride. My boys were so good. AND- we landed and were done.

When we arrived, my Dad picked us up- and it was so good to see my willing and able Daddy- ready to help. He took Hunter to the bathroom and laughed about how he never did that with us girls because we always went with Mom to the public bathrooms. We got to the baggage claim and I immediately saw our two car seats, but no luggage. They lost my luggage. Of course. Again- my attitude was such that I thought it was hilarious. Of course they lost my luggage! They had 5 hours to find the right plane, and not only did it go on the wrong plane to the wrong city- it went on the wrong airline! I was so relieved that we had the car seats- we could go home- I didn't care about the luggage- one less thing to haul.

They delivered the luggage the next day and already the 5 Hour Layover was a distant memory because Hunter and Graham were happily playing in sunny Florida. And I experienced the power of choosing to have a good attitude. It was a lesson that will stay with me. The nonstop flight back to DC was so easy I wondered why I ever worried about 2.5 hour flights with kids before. After the 5 Hour Layover- I could do anything!

Growing up isn't so bad.