Murphy’s Law is alive and well.

This is what I get for saying I hoped there would be no drama to report on our trip home. I have more drama than I can fit into one blog post.  I have so much drama, this might be a two-parter.  We’ll see how it goes.

You may recall that on Wednesday we had the pleasure of sprinting from one terminal to another in the Atlanta airport with only seconds to spare.  It was far from ideal traveling conditions, and we were looking forward to a much more leisurely layover on our trip home.  But that was not in the stars.

After an hour delay this morning, we were allowed to board the first plane.  The kids were already tired and antsy from sitting around the airport for two hours, so they started out at a deficit.  They also started out with about a quart of root beer in their tummies.  We had been upstairs, enjoying a 10:30AM lunch at Pizza Hut when the airline announced they were finally boarding, so we had to gather up our leftovers and dash to the gate with no time for a pit-stop along the way.

Once we were on the plane and at a comfortable cruising altitude, sure enough, my 2-year-old announced that she desperately needed to pee.  At that point, the beverage cart was blocking the aisle, so I managed to get the attention of the flight attendant and persuade her to move aside so we could access the back of the plane.

Well, R took one look at the facilities and flat-out refused to go near it.  So there I stood, crammed into the rear corner of the aircraft with an audience of 10, trying to persuade my stubborn 2-year-old to use the unconventional potty. 

I finally decided the fight wasn’t worth it, so we made our way back to our seats without relief.  She seemed to forget the urgency of her bladder situation and promptly asked for water.  She was not amused when I declined her request.  I explained that she could have water if she would go potty, but that got me nowhere.  Then I tried to bribe her with gum, but all that did was make her scream and yell for gum.  Grand.  So we spent the last half of our plane flight in a stalemate, a loud one at that.  I’m sure the people in front of us were delighted.

As our plane began to make its descent, we checked our watches and determined that if we could summon our super powers, there was a SLIGHT possibility we would still be able to make our connecting flight.  So we herded the kids off the plane and took off running through the terminal as fast as humanly possible with two adults, three kids, and six carry ons.  Naturally the puddle jumper we had flown into Atlanta dropped us off in the bowels of the airport, and we had to walk the longest possible distance to get to the tram that runs between terminals. 

When we got off the tram, we headed for gate B1 which was, you guessed it, located in the very far corner of terminal B.  So off we went again, half-dragging, half-carrying our kids along behind us.  We did take a moment to stop at the restrooms because I knew there was no use in trying to convince R to use the airplane potty.  I decided I’d rather miss our flight and wait around for the next one than try to fly another 2 hours with a child refusing to use the facilities.  (And the inevitable result of a child trying to hold a quart of root beer in her 2-year-old bladder for 4 hours.)

This time we were more fortunate than we had been on Wednesday, and we got to our gate right before they started boarding our plane.  I even had time to grab a latte at a nearby coffee joint while we waited for our zone to be called.  It would seem that our luck was on the upswing.  But the drama doesn’t end there. 

This post, however, does. 

To be continued…

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13 Responses

  1. OH, you poor thing. I can’t imagine the drama that ensued! Luckily I have not had the privilege of taking my two year old on a plane yet, I’m hoping it will be a long while before I have to! He’s so very rambunctious and not sure he would make it at all! Doesn’t it make you wonder how Jon and Kate Plus Eight do it going all over the country with their eight kids! I would have to be heavily medicated! She is a saint! Can’t wait to hear the rest of the story!

  2. Air travel is not built with children in mind. Once, my parents went with us on a trip to Disneyworld. On the plane ride back, my 7 month old started screaming when we started our descent. My parents were 2 rows behind us pretending like they didn’t know us. When we all started to disembark and my youngest had quieted down, my dad leaned over in front of the other passengers and said…”ma’am, next time could you please keep your kid quiet!” The other passengers jaws dropped. I gave my courtesy eye roll to him…you know, the one I have practiced since I turned 13…he thought he was so HILARIOUS!

  3. Can’t wait for the rest!

    Flying with kids is by all means a complete an utter nightmare! Add to that carry-ons and forget it. I think I would rather walk.

  4. I can relate to what you have been through. When my son (now 5) was 2, my husband accepted a job that moved us from San Antonio, TX to Roanoke, VA. He had to start work before we sold our house, so we (my son and I) flew to Roanoke for a visit. The flight there went amazingly well. When it was time to return to San Antonio however, my son did NOT want to go. As soon as he realized that Daddy was not getting on the plane, he started screaming (in the jetway) “I want to stay with my Daddy! I don’t want to go to Texas!” Over and over. Louder than you can imagine. All the way from Roanoke to Chicago, through O’Hare, and all the way to San Antonio. (and he peed on me twice) We have not been on a plane since.

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