I recently had an experience that has changed my life forever. I used to be the kind of mom that would just go for it. Keep the kids up late so we can spend time with our friends? Sure. Skip nap time to go to the beach? No problem! Fly to Utah with the kids by myself? What could possibly go wrong? Well this is my story..
Chad and I decided that the best course of action for our move to Utah from California would be for him to drive a moving truck out while I flew with the kids. I mean nothing could possibly be worse than driving to squirmy kids 12 hours in a car to Utah. Well I found something that comes pretty darn close. It all started at the Santa Barbara airport, it was raining, which I now know was an omen of how the day would unfold. Brisa was asleep for the drive and was woken up when the car stopped at the airport. When Brisa wakes up from a nap she like to be snuggled for about 30 minutes, something that is impossible to do while holding a baby, a backpack and two car seats. So there was a lot of tears and a lot of "Mommy, I need to hold you!" while I printed my boarding passes. But eventually I was able to check the car seats and head to security with my littles. We got to go up an escalator and to Brisa that was just about the most exciting part of the day. She was so excited that she didn't realize at first that we had kissed Nana goodbye and we were going on the airplane without her. She noticed the second we got to security that Nana was gone and she was beside herself with grief, in other words she was screaming and trying to run away. So there I was with my two kids trying to get my ID out of my wallet without losing my two year old that can run right under those little ropes without even having to duck. Finally I got it all taken care of and got ready to put our stuff through the scanner thingy. I told her that she would have to take off her Frozen backpack so we could put it through the machine and she stomped her foot and screamed her classic "No, I don't!" I sized up the TSA agent, she was bigger than me, then decided that yes she did have to take off her backpack. As I was wrestling the backpack I could feel eyes on me, I looked around to see an older man watching this whole scene unfolding, presumably thanking his lucky stars he wasn't me. I smiled and continued smiling while basically dislocating Brisa's arm to get her backpack off of her. I was pushing Brisa through the metal detector and I was almost in the clear until the TSA woman reminded me I was still wearing my shoes, how did she know I was planning on smuggling 4oz of liquid on board in the sole of my shoe? It was at this point that a second TSA agent took pity on me and lured Brisa through the detector with stickers. It worked like a charm, he's an angel and Brisa is happy with her Jr. TSA agent sticky badge for 3 minutes.
We got to our gate without a hitch, then Brisa realized she was still holding her trash that she peeled off from the back of her sticker. Now under normal circumstances she would throw it on the ground and refuses to throw it away and she would have time out and then still refuse and I would bribe her and she would still refuse then I would tell her she would't be able to watch Curious George after nap and she would reluctantly throw it away and I would breathe a sigh of relief that I didn't have to follow through on that threat because it is more of a punishment for me than it is for her. But of course since I had just sat down and started nursing Carson she urgently had to find a trash can. So I scanned the area and there was one pretty close, so I thought I would just point to it and she could do it herself, but upon further inspection the trash can had the separate bags for plastic, paper, and trash (really California?), so I would have to go with her to ensure she found the right place to dispose of her tiny piece of paper that could NOT be shoved in the backpack. So I grabbed Carson and left our things on the chair and walked 5 feet to the trash can.
We successfully threw away our trash and were on our way back to our seat, when Brisa decided it was time for a run. She sprinted of giggling and I took off after her. Its not unusual for Brisa to take off, I just usually send Chad after her or tell her if she doesn't stay by me we have to go home and then she comes back and mopes by me. This time I couldn't use either of my tried and true tactics and she knew she had me beat. I finally cornered her in a gift shop and thought I had won, then she went boneless. A sit in! Brilliant! I couldn't pick her up because I was already had one squirmy baby in my arms, and I couldn't wait it out because I had left all of my things unattended and that voice over the intercom kept instilling a distrust of all unattended baggage in my fellow travelers so I was left with no choice but to slide her along the shiny tile floor all the way back to our seat. She was screaming and begging me to let her go, and I was comforted knowing that if anyone ever tried to kidnap this particular toddler they would give up because even I was wishing I could stop and walk away.
We finally got on the plane and Brisa walked right to her seat and put her seat belt on and waited looking out the window. No, really she did! then she got fidgety, then she realized the button with a picture of a person on it made a dinging sound when she pushed it, yay! Then we were told to get our seat belts on a started taxiing to the runway then we stopped. Someone was screaming and jumping up and down on their seat preventing the plane from taking off. Yep, it was my daughter. The flight attendant rushed over to tell me that she had to be buckled before we could take off. I told him I was aware of the rule and I was trying and he walked away, I tried everything, but was unable to wrangle her with just one arm and she was doing her ear piercing scream and everyone was watching, it was great. The flight attendant reappeared and asked if there was anything he could do to help, and I handed him my baby without uttering a word. I got Brisa in her seat and clipped her in and she giggled, I lost a little more of my sanity) and grabbed Carson back and we took off. when we got in the air the pilot announced that we were a little behind schedule (I get it, I'm a bad mom, move on sir) but he was sure we could make up the time. The flight went great, Brisa was happy the whole time, it was fantastic until she had to put her seat belt on to land. Luckily the lady sitting next to me offered to hold Carson for the landing so that I could hold Brisa. She must have been on a tight schedule. Luckily everyone around me was SO nice, everyone told me that I didn't have to apologize, and kids act up sometimes and I shouldn't worry about it. I really hope I will have the opportunity to be as kind as all the people on that flight someday.
And then we were in San Francisco. we had about an hour so I let Brisa wander around and get some wiggles out. Carson was starting to fuss so I was trying to get him his pacifier while he squirmed around in the ergo carrier and finally got it in his mouth and looked up to see Brisa sprinting off into a restricted area. Perfect, there goes that last pesky thread of sanity. I couldn't follow her under the rope because I'm not 2 and so I was standing there begging her to come back. Then I saw a tiny little security guard walking towards her. She informed me that it was a restricted area (no kidding) and that Brisa wasn't allowed back there because the wasn't authorized. I told her I realize that and called Brisa over to me, it didn't work. There was a giant window and a plane taking off and big bouncy chairs, she's only human. Then the security guard turned to Brisa and told her to go back to her mom, Brisa laughed in her face. The lady told me a 2nd time that Brisa wasn't authorized to be back there and that there were stairs and it wasn't safe. I said I know, but she's two and I don't control her every move. Finally she moved the rope and said "Go get your child." I pictured myself pushing her down the "unsafe" stairs. I may not have been able to take that TSA agent, but this chick I could drop kick. I walked away and then we got on our plane and that flight went off without a hitch and one lady even called me a "rock star" The couple sitting behind me just happened to have been on my first flight too. Some people just have bad luck, that's life I guess. Anyway he heard the rock star comment and chuckled, pipe down you, I'm a rock star. Then we got off the plane, reunited with Chad, he cried, we drove home, laughing the whole way about our little monster.
I learned 2 things from all of this:
1) I need Chad a whole heck of a lot more than he needs me.
2) Leaving the house alone with my two kids should be avoided at all costs.
