Baggage Claim

A few months ago my husband and I decided we would join my extended family this summer at their vacation home in southern Maine. It took us a good week of scouring Expedia, Travelocity, and Hotwire to nail down the best flight prices for our 1,515 mile journey. Travelocity even got an earfull from us when we went to purchase some great tickets and by the time we “checked out” the flights had gone up by about $50 a person. We finagled which days of the week would be the cheapest to travel. Since Ayla is now two, she’s no longer a lap child, she’s a full on, full price ticket. (Rest assured, my husband tried to get a discount since she’s a miniature person.) And, being the responsible grown-ups we are, we even purchased travel insurance. Of course, after we purchased new tickets, Travelocity sent us about 49 emails about the discounted rates they could provide. The beauty of this trip though, was that once we arrived to Legacy Lodge (believe me, it could also be called Legacy Mansion on Beautiful Long Lake with Green, Green Grass, the Wiffle Ball Field of the Century, Comfortable Beds, and Feasts Galore) we knew that we would be well accommodated.

So, there we were, our family of four, booked for our first major ‘cation with a full day’s worth of traveling each way.

I packed our bags days before we were set to leave, made lists of all the amenities I knew we could not go without, and began to feel slight panic that I was going to either underpack or overpack. My husband, the organized/planner/mover/shaker that he is, came in the night before we left and rearranged all of the suitcases. He wanted us to take advantage of all the carry-on’s we could bring since we were paying for a ticket for Ayla, after all. So, 18 carry-on’s later, we were ready for our flight. Our arrival at the airport would have benefited from a small army helping us check our luggage. We checked ONE suitcase. ONE. Steal of deal, after all. Only paid $25 for our baggage each way. We also checked two strollers and two car seats. And then we traipsed about the airport with a diaper bag, a large “purse”, 2 rolling luggage bags, a computer bag (that likely weighed 37 lbs), Ayla’s backpack, oh, and 2 kids. It was a breeze. If only Ayla had done her cardio and bench-presses like I asked.

Going through security included 15 bins to empty our contents in, the strollers had to be collapsed and shoved through the conveyor, our computers had to be taken out of their bag, the kids had to be held, our shoes had to be removed, the milk in the cooler for Andy had to be opened up and “tested” for explosives, and generally resembled a triathlon. Somehow we made it, no children were left behind. Our next goal: get on the plane.

And boarding we began. As we entered the aircraft, Andy in my left arm, diaper bag on my right, Ayla hanging onto my rear, Andrew holding 3 carry-on’s, I could feel the eye-balls of our fellow patrons glaring at me. Sighing. Wishing they had booked a different flight. As I swacked everyone in the head with the diaper bag as I meandered down the aisle, I knew we were in for a treat. Surprisingly both kiddos fared really well on the first leg of the trip. We had an uneventful two hour layover, and then embarked the small plane that would carry us to our final destination.

It was a dinky plane, with a skinny aisle, maybe 20 rows of 2 seats to the right and 1 seat to the left. We plunked our family down. I took the one-seater side with Andy, and daddy took the two-seater side with Ayla. Andy was fussy immediately, so I began to nurse him. The flight-attendant quickly gasped at the seats we were in as if we committed a huge travesty. “Oh no. This row is not equipped for lap children.” So, she sent us to three rows back. Andy was stuck to my boob with a nursing cover in disarray while we tried to switch places with the travelers behind us. There was not an appropriate number of oxygen masks on the right side of the plane, so Ayla, Andy and I plopped into the two seater side of the aisle, and off we went. As we began to descend, both kids began to fuss. Daddy tried taking Ayla, which brought the flight-attendant back. She shared with us (too pleasantly) that FAA regulations do not allow a lap child on that side of the aisle. “Remember, there are not enough oxygen masks on this side. big smile.” So the screaming continued. Ayla at this point was standing in her seat, while I tried to console Andy too. Clearly, it was much safer to have traumatized and improperly secured children on the plane though. In other news, “Infant floatation devices are located in the rear of the plane in the left overhead bin.” Thankfully we didn’t land in a lake, because I’m sure crawling over a mass of chaotic people to get to the back of the plane to grab a life jacket for Andy would have been super easy.

As we disembarked the plane a little old lady walked by me and patted my arm, “You did good, honey.” I felt like a frazzled, crazy, haggard mom who wanted to punch the FAA for their rules and United for not having more frickin’ oxygen masks. That little lady made me smile. Everyone on that plane had been a baby once, they were able to relate on some level.

Andy screamed the whole hour long car ride to the Lodge, unfortunately. But by God, we were on ‘CATION! And believe me, it had only just begun.