I have this awful habit of scheduling airplane flights that depart at the crack of dawn. This is complicated by the fact that ten or eleven of us travel together (always!). Then, throw into the mix the fact that my absolutely wonderful husband is usually not himself and becomes quite uptight when we are traveling via airwaves . . . all of this creates a recipe for unbelievable disaster.
Fortunately, God has been merciful and nothing has occurred thus far to deter our family from making our flights. However, we have had a few precarious moments . . .
For instance, one time, my 11-year-old son decided to travel with a 50-caliber spent machine gun shell in his backpack . It was a souvenir from a tour of a fabulous aircraft carrier, the U.S.S. Nimitz. It actually made it through the screening undetected on one leg of our trip. Thank goodness for the expertise of TSA. However, it did not go unnoticed on our route back home. It actually created quite a stir.
My husband had already passed through security with all but two of our children. I was left to deal with the agent who was screaming “SUPERVISOR! SUPERVISOR!” and pointing frantically at my guilt-ridden cute young son while waving the shell in the air for everyone to see. The supervisor turned out to be an understanding (much more so than I was by this point) motherly figure and let us through without an arrest. Of course, I confiscated the shell and I will hold it in my possession for YEARS to come.
The last flight we enjoyed together was just a few weeks ago. We needed to be at the airport at 5:30 A.M. Now the convenient aspect was that we were in San Diego, a mere 15 minutes from the airport. So I rose at 3:00 a.m. This should have provided us with plenty of time to return the rental cars and arrive with our 15 pieces of luggage (we were traveling light) at the ticket counter on time. Everything was going along beautifully. I had even printed our boarding passes the day before and was feeling quite on top of my game. My husband was tolerating things well at this point. The children were groggy and cooperative.
After we dropped the cars off and loaded our kids and luggage into the airport shuttle, we sat back to enjoy the ride. Here is where things began to fall apart. The shuttle pulled up to a curb from which we could see the entrance to the ticket counter through the wires of a high fence. The driver pleasantly informed us that they were no longer allowed to pull up directly in front of the entrance. I definitely heard groans from the older male contingent of our family.
We unloaded the 15 pieces of luggage, multiple backpacks and carryons and propped up our sleepy kids next to this pile. My husband instructed my 14-and 15-year-old sons to find luggage carriers. They arrived back quickly with two such carts and we proceeded to pile the luggage onto these. We only had to repack the carts two, three or maybe four times. At this point the ten of us began our hike: this included a walk, an elevator ride, a hike over a bridge, another elevator ride, and a final walk to the ticket counter.
It all sounds so simple now . . .and actually would have been except that the luggage careened off the carts just as the boys were moving it onto the elevator. I tried to help by pushing the “open” button. But guess what? It was actually the emergency call button. So my husband proceed to toss (actually, I think he threw ) the luggage into the elevator. All the while, the airport security officer could be heard over the speaker asking “Do you have an elevator emergency?”. I informed the officer of my mistake, assuring her of our well-being. I never alluded to the fact that we were mentally unstable at this point.
Once safely in the elevator, my husband told me that he would control the elevator as I was obviously experiencing “problems with buttons” at the moment. I complied. Eventually we made it to the ticket counter and the gate.
See – smooth sailing and only sweet memories now.
Come to think of it, the problems on this excursion didn’t hold a candle to our spring ‘07 vacation. Our van was packed completely the night before our early morning airline flight. We were ready. Nothing would get in the way of a very early, smooth departure. Nothing except an auto thief. While we were peacefully sleeping and dreaming of a beautiful family vacation, some sinister individual (or two) ripped out our door lock and tried to hot-wire our van. Unsuccessful, they destroyed the steering column and ignition. They took off with a duffel full of diving equipment and an Ipod, never to be found. Needless to say, this was an unpleasant turn of events. Fortunately, my husband is quick-thinking and called on nearby relatives to drive us to the airport. I am certain that they were thrilled to be part of our early morning crisis. We, once again, made our flight.
Now, I would like to share my secret to peaceful, early morning departures. I bath and dress my little ones for travel the night before our departure. This allows me to quickly and gently roll them out of bed. I put their shoes and jackets on, fix their hair a little and off we go. They are in no condition for even a quick breakfast at this time of the morning. I pack healthy and fun treats in their backpacks for later. This has worked well for me for years.
If you would like to read about more helpful, fun tips visit Works for Me Wednesday at Rocks in My Dryer.