I don't believe there is a correlation between the day of the week and the shape that day will take unless you fly from New York to Texas with two small children on a Monday. If this occurs, as it did to us this week, then place your head on your cozy pillow Sunday night with the certain knowledge that Monday will not be a good day.
I no longer consider myself an expert on flying with children.
Do you hear me Travel Gods? I admit hubris and defeat and rightly recognize that all good travel days are a gift bestowed from your Blade of Aeronautics, mightily forged from WWII fighter jets.
I know you read my little book 'o travel tips and I know you weren't much past Chapter 2 when the plan was hatched. The first suggestion, I'm fairly confident, was thrown out by your leader, "Let's strand them at O'hare! Muhahahahaha!" which was met with vengeful mirth. In a few hours time, however, the smarter in the group learned I have survived an airport stranding. As not to offend your leader a wily one said, "That would be fun, but it's so obvious. Let's plan a small attacks that last for 12+ hours!"
After a side-by-side analysis you aligned that small blitzkriegs would cause maximum harm. Your creative mastermind, most likely a woman, must be commended. We never expected seemingly small events to take us out at the knees!
A plane without a changing table? Genius!
A seat that ate our three pacifiers? Innovative!
My three-year-old's screaming hysterics about leaving Grandma in NY that exploded at random points in flight like tiny little firecrackers? Brilliant!
Not enough diapers in my bag? Earthshattering!
A baby who refused to nap and had to be wrestled for over four hours? Character building!
Seating us in the very last row? Excruciating!
Not seating us together on the longest leg? Malicious!
Seating the baby and me next to a 19 year-old boy? Awkwardly amazing!
An iPad that hadn't downloaded Frozen? Wicked!
A husband who was somehow able to snooze through many of your shenanigans? Just plain mean!
So guys, I will not ever head to the airport, kiddos in tow, believing it will all work out. Thanks for getting us home. Perhaps next time you will choose the "Stranded at O'Hare" option.
Oh yes, there will be a next time. You've demoralized, not completely defeated me.
Lol. Oh man, I do not envy your experience. Ironically, on our one long trip to Hawaii (5.5 hour flight with an 18 month old) he did SO well. Much better than I imagined and most little blips still worked out somehow. It was the vacation that went to hell when my teething toddler couldn't handle the time change, the heat, being kept away from the pool's edge, and every other thing happening during the day. We managed, but boy was that a challenge. I thank you for your amusing and light-hearted posts. I still remember when you were a work-a-holic with no babies. ;)
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