Orlando...the Saga!

As I mentioned in one of last weeks posts, we went to Orlando.  Bret had a work conference, and Tiny and I decided we were not going to miss out on Florida sunshine so we met him there.  I have too many stories from Orlando to sum up in one post, so I’ll be writing about our trip all week.

Tiny Fashionista or Tiny Terrorist?

Day ONE-Friday, March 1…Getting There

I always knew flying with a toddler “lap child” would be hard.  But, this was like bad Rom-Com character hard, except in my movie my cute boy is not serendipitously seated next to me ready to save the day, but instead hubs is flying on a totally different airline in first class no less.

Paint the scene as we arrive at airport: flustered girl (me), big bag stuffed to the gills with toddler ammunition, larger than life stroller, seemingly happy Annaliese. 

So far so good, then…problems at security, frisked, frisked, frisked, broken elevator, very awkward escalator ride, delay, delay, delay…and finally we are boarding! (Bret has assured me that they let people with small children board first, and I believe this to be true of every airline in the world other than Allegiant Air.)  Gate Agent begins boarding and says and I quote, “anyone needing extra time or special assistance can board now, with the exception of those travelling with small children, you need to board with everyone else.”   Say what?!?  I glance at the other shocked and desperate parents just waiting to be thrown a bone and can clearly see I’m not the only one that so wants to smack this jack@$$.

Twenty minutes later, we arrive at seat 19E to find we are in a middle seat, there is literally not a single inch of leg room and I can sense immediately that the two people we are to be squished between for the next two hours are childless and already loathing me. Flash-forward one hour into flight and thanks to all the delays we are now two hours past Tiny’s bedtime and the screaming begins.  And not a cute baby scream, this is thrashing, kicking straight up all kinds of crazy screaming.  I’m at a loss.  I try all my tricks, singing, reading, stickers, cookies, iPad…even Minnie is not working.  How is this possible, Minnie always works!??    Here comes the flight attendant, perhaps she will let me stand up and try to help my child.  Nope!  The oh so helpful stewardess has come only to ask me, “what’s wrong with her?”  Seriously!!!!!  She’s one and a half, and miserable and so am I and believe me lady not a soul on this plane is hating and judging me more than I’m judging me. 

At this point the girl next to me is offering me sympathetic smiles and quietly whispers, “I’m 14 weeks pregnant.”  And, I say well it’s a good thing you’re already knocked up, because after this flight you may have wanted to remain childless.  We have a good laugh, and it helps.

After what seems like 12 hours, the plane mercifully touches sweet Florida soil.  We have landed.  We scramble out of our seat when at last it’s our turn, double checking to make sure we’ve left nothing behind but my dignity. As we are deplaning, I can hear the whispers, “that’s the screaming baby and her mother.”  I take a bow as I exit, and Annaliese in her oh so adorable travel attire, flashes the flight attendants her megawatt smile and says, “thank you.”