Flying with my 5-year-old twins, or, “I don’t know these kids.”

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Oh, people.

On Monday I flew with the kids to North Carolina. This involved a total of 7 hours of flying, with a short layover on Chicago. We have done this trip twice before, with no problems whatsoever. I was all, “my kids are great travelers!” And, “as long as they’ve got movies and snacks it’s pretty easy!” Well, I am an asshole. Because Monday suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucked.

Here’s what’s interesting: the actual flying part was awesome. Once we were in the air with our snacks and movies, the kids were absolute dreams. It was every single other minute of the trip that was a disaster.

–Waiting in line at security in Seattle

–Waiting at the gate in Seattle

–Waiting to get off the plane in Chicago

–Waiting at the gate in Chicago

–Waiting to get off the plane in Raleigh-Durham

Apparently, my children no likey to waitey.

There were groans, moans, tears, whining, yelling, flopping to the ground is dismay…people moved AWAY from us at the gate in Chicago. I’m guessing it was because they didn’t want to hear my son continue to ask when we were going to board the plane. The answers to that question were, by the way, “twenty minutes, here eat some popcorn, ten minutes, still ten minutes, nine minutes, eight minutes, seven minutes, six minutes, five minutes, four minutes, three minutes, two minutes, one more minute, zero minutes, any second now, I don’t know, any second now, I am going to go jump in front of a plane.”

Dudes, it was brutal. There was such an intense amount of whining, I thought I was going to start crying. I also considered writing up an addendum to my “no spanking” policy that left room for exceptions in cases of flood, fire, or other acts of god like screaming in an airport.

Oh, AND the day started with my daughter sneezing out one of those booger trails that you usually only see on two-year-olds on a cold day at the park. You know, the kind that reaches from nostril to chin and is approximately one inch across? Well, she sent one out for air while we were in the middle of a very long line at security in Seattle. I, of course, had no tissues. I had nothing…except my sleeve. I scooped that thing up, and then wiped my sleeve off in my pocket. Because I still had my dignity, damnit.

And ps, the day ended with my son going backwards down an escalator because he decided he wanted to go on the elevator instead, and me pushing my way down the escalator past a very nice old couple (daughter in tow), yelling my son’s name. Because by this point I no longer gave two shits about my dignity.

Wish me luck on Saturday, when we get to do this whole thing again.

Mercy.

"Good call on the meds, baby." image via macleans.ca

“Good call on the meds, baby.” “We are so high-fiving later.” image via macleans.ca

Author: admin

Meredith likes to write the funny at her blog, Pile of Babies (http://www.pileofbabies.com).

4 Comments

  1. Dear God. That is exactly why I developed a morbid fear of flying just over four years ago, right about the time my guys came along. The escalator scene rings frustratingly true…airport, Ikea, doesn’t matter — wherever it’s unsafe and incredibly inconvenient for a fit of irrationality to strike.

  2. oh my…I hope the way back home isn’t as bad as this one. From my experience though airports can bring out the worst in kiddos…Fingers crossed! :) Let us know how did it go!
    Alexandra recently posted..The energy this kid has…(a bit delayed Wordless Wednesday)My Profile

  3. Just found your blog and love it! Good luck on your trip back-I’m sure with your SuperMom skills, you’ll get through it. Just keep looking at the finish line.. :)

  4. You are seriously funny.

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