Boys and Airplanes

There is nothing funnier than traveling with kids on an airplane, especially when you have a seasoned traveler like my husband who lies calm, even trips.

We start the morning with 12 bags - 4 ski bags (about the size of body bags and just as heavy) 3 suitcase and 5 backpacks.  Hubby starts with a lecture that "it is everyone's job to take care of all this stuff," as I am hauling the body bags up 8 steps and out to the car.  Once they are up there, the kids do par core all over the bags while I crawl on my hands and knees in the condo checking under beds, couches, chairs - finding 2 mis matched socks, one T-shirt and my own business card.

During the drive to airport, we get a little turned around.  Usually when you are lost, children will immediately start asking stupid questions as you are trying to figure out the GPS, listen to Rolf of Google Maps tell you that you are lost and arguing with your seat mate about which direction to take.

Didn't the kids in the back notice that you turned Michael Buble all the way down - BECAUSE you don't have time to listen to "I wanna go home," when you are LOST!

It starts with them asking if we are lost, then bugging each other until one of them yells, "STOP!"  At which time both parents turn and explain in what they think is the most menacing voice about being lost, needing quiet to think!  Does that stop them?  What do you think?

Once at the airport, everyone jumps out of the car looking at us.  I have to politely explain that I got the body bags up to the car, it is now their job to haul them from the car into the ticket counter.  Each takes their own bag, leaving me with 4 communal bags - including my own body bag.  Sigh.

At the counter, hubby is trying to check us in, the kids are jumping the suitcases.  My oldest decides that he wants to "help" Daddy and check us in for the flight.  There are wrong buttons pressed, arguments on how many bags, arguments on who is sitting where.  Meanwhile I am getting evil looks by the TSA agents waiting for our bags, because a. they are heavy as shit, and b. there are a lot of them and c. someone is going to have to security search them which includes hauling the body bags through X-ray.

The kids push each other through security screening, not to mention the TSA guy pulling a smashed clementine out of my husband's briefcase with my child saying, "Hey, I was saving that for later!"  They push each other down the jetway, push each other as they walk to their seats on the plane.

Once on the flight, the kids are excited and cannot sit still, they are moving the seats up and down, which means Jeff and I have no leg room because for some reason the kids got the choice seats and we got the ones that come with a can opener when you try to get out.  One child is pressing all the buttons on the other child's TV screen because this is the first plane that has personal TVs and how cool is that in a child's world.  Rather how cool is that, in anyone's world, I'm pretty enthralled too, not noticing what the kids are doing until someone presses the flight attendant button above my husband's head.  He is reaching between the seats trying to grab someone while the flight attendant asks him what he wants. I thought he was going to say, "Please move me away from these obnoxious kids, who's kids are they anyway?"  But he smiles and apologizes, reaching between the seat for anyone once she walks away.

Needless to say when traveling with children, the annoyance of everything they do is increased with the stress of trying to get from point A to Point B.  So if you travel with your children, here's a few pointers:

Travel light - in our case we couldn't due to snow sports, the less you have to haul around the better your back will feel.
Don't give them any of your electronics - because sitting on the airplane is not the time to find out they changed your ringtone on your phone to "I'm Sexy and I Know It."  (Picture my sweet hubby's face on that one)
And try to set your seats at least 3 rows behind them, that way you are not hit in the knees when they "test" how far the seat goes back and you can look at others on the plane and say, "For Pete's Sake, who's kids are those?"

Remember, traveling with children is like childbirth.  You'll forget all about it once your finally make it back home again, planning that next trip until your phone starts to sing, "I Like Big Butts And I Cannot Lie" on your next call.

How do you get 3 boys to a destination.....

Things that will happen when traveling with boys.  2 flights 2+ hours each.

One of my children went walking by with bulging pockets after casually passing by the hostess stand of the restaurant.  Me standing with my hands on my hips watching him empty 62 mints back in to the bowl.

Amazing what boys can do when they are excited to trash a hotel room:

One was jumping from bed to bed while I was trying to have a conversation with my hubby.

The other was in the one and only bathroom of the hotel room for a VERY long time.

A third was constantly knocking on the door trying to get the second one out of said bathroom.

So we make our 650am flight, hauling 4 ski bags (they resemble body bags) along with 3 other rolling bags, back packs and one purse.  

I always laugh watching my husband loose it when trying to control everyone checking in.  Max is doing 360's by the ticketing kiosks, Matthew is wrestling Wolfgang, and I am acting like I don't know anyone. 

Jeff hands everyone their boarding pass and within 5 seconds of giving them their boarding pass, Max has already lost his.  I just walk away while Jeff is lecturing about being responsible and taking care of your things.

We go to the club and Matthew smashes Max in the elevator, all three boys disappear into the men's room of the club for a VERY long time.  I'm mortified when I watch the cleaning lady go in behind them - she doesn't know what she is in for.

On the plane because my husband is preferred status, American offered him a complimentary drink and complimentary snacks for the family.

The boys, "Wow, we get FOOD on this FLIGHT!  I guess we didn't need to put all those mints from the hotel in our pockets to feed us."

The flight attendant, comes up to me, "MRS. MELANG, YOUR HUSBAND HAS A COMPLIMENTARY DRINK, HE SAYS YOU WANT IT.  DO YOU WANT A DRINK?"

I almost want to whisper to her, "Jeez lady, it's 730am do you have to announce to the whole plane that I get a FREE DRINK."

Oh she doesn't stop there, "WE CAN GET YOU A MIMOSA OR A BLOODY MARY WHAT TYPE OF DRINK DO YOU WANT?  WE HAVE WINE AND VODKA AND WHISKEY."

I see everyone on the plane looking at me, then they look over at the three boys and full understanding dawns on them.  I whisper to her what I want.

"OH A BLOODY MARY IT IS, JEAN CAN YOU GET MRS. MELANG A BLOODY MARY?"

And you wonder why at 7am I am drinking a bloody mary, here's why:

Oh and add SOMEONE having gas the entire one hour drive, stinking up the car.  Jeff and I went shopping and when we went to put everything in the back of the car, the boys had farted so much in the car that opening the trunk it felt like it farted in our face!

But their excitement makes all the mishaps bearable as I see them start to quiver when we drive through  the mountains and get first look at the ski resorts.  I think I am ready for this.

If I don't survive the 9 days, look for me buried underneath a snow drift-----but happy.

Brace Yourself for the Airport Ticket Agent

He sat on his throne looking like King Midas, or Genghis Khan.  No I am not talking about royalty, I am talking about the ticket agent at the airport, or the customer service representative at the mall, any person who believes they are in a position of authority due to their job description.  In my case, this ticket agent at the airport was the seat keeper, the keeper of the first class seats that I was coveting.

And he understood the power he had, and he yielded it.

He looked up at me, then back to his computer screen.  Obviously something on that screen was much more important than customer service?  Rather than saying something immediately, I waited patiently, hoping this gesture of good will, this showing how important I thought he was by not interrupted what seemed to be a very important computer something.  After waiting several minutes, I finally couldn’t stand it anymore so I coughed and said, “Excuse me?”

He looked up at me through his glasses perched on his nose, a stern look on his face at being interrupted at his IMPORTANT job.  I was not mentioning that I noticed his fingers not moving on the keyboard for quite a bit of time.  

“What can I do for you,” he asked in a nasally voice, emphasizing DO and YOU.

I almost said, “YOUR JOB,” but bit my tongue.  “They told me that I should check with you about seats available for 1^st class on the flight from Charlotte to Phoenix?”

He looked at me, acting like I’d said, “Sir, can you please take that umbrella in the corner and stick it up your ass.”  There was another long pause as we stared at each other, like playing some kind of game of war.  Who was going to blink first.  I felt like I had won, when he simply stopped staring looking down to his keyboard and started to type.

While I watched him type, a line started forming behind me as other people were hoping to find lost bags, or change seats, or get rebooked after a cancelled flight.  I felt the stress of holding everyone up, especially the woman behind me with a baby in her arms, a baby that took one look at me and started crying.  I started sweating, partially because of the baby crying behind me, but also because I noticed that he boarding passes put her and Napoleon there right next to me on the 4 hour 37 minute flight.

My eyes went back to the agent, who was not noticing Napoleon starting to scream, or me sweating, he was very intently typing on the keyboard, looking at the screen as if he were typing up the long lost scroll of the bible.

I waited while Belzebub’s screaming got louder.  Watching him on the keyboard.

What is he typing?  Why is it taking him so long to just check a flight for seats in first class?  He’s still typing, is the system

broken.  When he paused typing, I felt a moment of exhilaration, only to have my hopes dashed as he then went back to typing again.

I wanted him to look up at me, so I could silently communicate with him with my eyes.  I wanted to say, “It can’t take you that damn long to check if a seat is available.”  Then I would add with more glaring potential, “I need to know if I am seated next to spawn of Satan for the next flight so I can go slam down a few martinis and make the flight tolerable.”  But he wouldn’t look up, so I couldn’t communicate anything.

I thought he found his answer because he clearly stopped typing on the keyboard.  When I thought he would give me an answer, he went from typing on the keyboard to clicking with the mouse.  He clicked as much as he typed.  He just kept clicking shit making me wonder if he was contacting the Chairman of USAirways for confirmation of my upgrade to first class.  He just kept clicking while I just kept waiting.

“How’s it coming along,” I asked when I couldn’t stand the Exorcist playing out behind me.  I hoped he would understand my question, see all my eye gestures and understand the communication.

“The computer is running a little slow,” he said as he stared at the screen mesmerized.

No shit, probably all that typing and clicking overloaded the system and now you have to wait, which means I have to wait, praying Linda Blair behind me doesn’t puke on my clean shirt.  My eye communication changed from give me an answer to looking like Oliver Twist, big sad eyes saying, “Please sir, could you spare one first class seat.”

He typed for a few more minutes, I was planning on bribing the flight attendant to slip me a few miniatures of whiskey for the flight when he says, “Looks like you are in luck.”

The heavens opened, I heard angels singing, and Spawn of Satan behind me smiled for a minute before resuming his crying.  I walk like Gene Kelley in Singing In The Rain to my gate whistling a bright tune.

That’s when I realize he’s upgraded me on the wrong leg of my flight, I was already in first class for that one.

I hear a wail in the distance.

Help I,ve fallen in the TSA line

How do you make it through the TSA line?  Here's some easy steps:

Easiest way to not get strip searched?  Strip first and walk through naked.

Take your brass nuckles and put them in the bag of the person ahead of you.

Let them do every type of metallic scan, then casually say, "Oh, I know what it is.  I forgot and left my Ben Wah Balls in.  Do you need to keep searching?"

Walk around saying loudly, "Man!  everyone's feet here STINK!"

If they ask if you have anything to declare, tell them you are allergic to latex.

Go through in a toga explaining it is the dress of your people.

Go through in a kilt saying, "Oh, I've been waiting for you!" To the agent.

Explaintion: it is the hair dryer that looks like a 357 Magnum, you don't need to pull it out.

Bring an extra bag with you and leave it sitting unattended.  This keeps everyone busy enough to not fool with your bag.

Ride in a wheelchair, they always get through the line first.  Better yet, pay someone to wheel you through the line and leave your brass knuckles in their pocket.

After your strip search walk out of the room proclaiming, "Ask for Carl!  he's got LITTLE hands!"

And to make your trip more enjoyable here is an actual list of items you cannot take through security:
Meat cleavers
Grenades
Cattle prods. (Guess your kids will actually enjoy the trip)
sabers
Brass Knuckles
Tear Gas
Gun lighters

Check your luggage and thank you for flying TSA Security line!

The best way to visit Montgomery, AL - by foot!

Beautiful morning for a run!  Union Station in Downtown Montgomery, AL

Wondered how many people walk up these steps on a Sunday morning?

 

A little light color with otherwise brick and iron!

Beautiful old buildings - vines and all!

Back when there was detail in architecture.

Don't need to show the pictures, but as always, I find the most unsavory parts of town on accident.  This time is was 5 guys hanging out in front of the Bail Bondsman, but I just kept going!

You never know what you'll find along the road.

Does this make you want to eat meat?

The first White House of the Southern Confederate States!  Jefferson Davis as President

Capitol Statue to Confederate Soldiers 

With the corner stone laid by Jefferson Davis!

Went looking for Old Alabama Town and found this - hopefully I was lost!

Downtown along the Riverfront - in the Alley

Love old buildings!

This is why I travel by foot through the city, what better way to get a view and a workout in the process!  Some of my favorite city runs include - Downtown Sydney, Australia....Seattle, Washington.....London, England.....and you never know what the future holds.  What are some of your favorite city runs?

A quiet morning, a cool breeze, silence as the only sound is the footfall on the pavement.