We're ba-aack

We made it back to Maine in one piece. I’ll do the Des Moines blow-by-blow in the next few days, I need to get the pictures uploaded first. We had a terrific visit and even though we were there for 10 days, the time really flew by. We crammed a ton of activities into those 10 days, details and pictures to come!

But first I must detail our trip back home. You’ll recall that getting to Des Moines was relatively easy – no major drama, tension, etc. I wish the trip home had been a little bit easier. I really, really, really wish that the airports would be a little more CONSISTENT in their rules, regulations, etc. when it comes to traveling with children and security issues.

First, I go to the check-in counter to check our bags and carseats. Hank had his own ticket, and Georgie was a “lap baby.” This was not an issue at all coming out of Bangor, nor was it an issue the last time I flew from DM to Bangor. Everything was stated clearly on my itinerary which I had just printed from the Northwest Airlines website. Keep in mind, this is the 5th time I have flown with Georgie in my lap, and I have never had an issue before. Well, Miss Very Important Ticket Agent decided to make a big stink out of it and claimed that the computer was showing that Georgie had his own ticket and Hank was the lap baby. I took a deep breath and said, “Well, I just printed off the boarding passes and itinerary directly from the NWA website, and they had it the right way, so I’m confused as to why your computer is saying differently. Also, this is the return ticket, so why would it have them mixed up now when it was correct coming here? It is the same reservation.” She immediately goes into SUPER DEFENSIVE mode. I do not understand why the second you get somewhat critical, or just point out a problem, people in the customer service industry immediately treat you like you are a freaked-out, over-emotional mental patient wielding a handgun. “MA’AM,” she says, clearly reading from her “what to do if a hostile customer starts screaming and yelling obscenities at you” chapter of the NWA employee manual, “PLEASE LISTEN TO ME. It doesn’t matter what is printed on your itinerary, it only matters what my computer says.”

Well then! So glad that I took the time to print out my itinerary and boarding pass if it means as much as my receipt from Starbucks! Gee, thanks! And thanks also for treating me like I am 2 years old!

Anyway, Miss Very Important Ticket Agent’s computer somehow managed to pull up the correct ticket/lap baby record and we were on our way to security. Did I get an apology? Hell no. I think the computer had it right all along, and she was just reading it wrong.

Oh, but that pales in comparison to my experience with security. You’d think that with not many people in line and 8 TSA agents standing around shuffling gray buckets around, that someone might step up and lend a hand to a mom with a preschooler and baby. You know, help her lift that double stroller onto the conveyer belt or something like that. After all, she had to fold up the stroller herself (because god forbid it go through the wheelchair gate like every other time I have flown) while keeping an eye on the preschooler and holding the baby and removing shoes and keeping track of boarding passes, etc. Nope, not one single person, TSA agent or other passenger, offered to help. In fact, 3 able-bodied male TSA agents watched with interest as I struggled folding it up and lifting it (one-handed) onto the conveyer belt. One actually had the audacity to comment, “That folds up nice.” Yeah, no thanks to you, chief. So when I folded up the stroller I accidentally folded up my boarding pass with it. So they had a field day with that one. I half-expected the SWAT team to crash through the windows, "Christmas Vacation" style, and haul my butt to jail. It was quite the to-do. So after digging and struggling and then reopening the stroller (without help, natch) I find lost boarding pass. I go through the metal detector. Then, disaster strikes. THERE WAS A JAR OF BABY FOOD CEREAL IN MY BAG. Imagine that, a woman with a baby packs BABY FOOD CERERAL in her bag. The horror! Miss Very Important Security Screener scolds me for leaving said baby food in backpack and not properly placing it in a quart-size baggie designated for liquids and gels. Other TSA screeners look on with disgust. I think for a moment that I will again get hauled off to jail for this offense. (Note: I have flown, oh, lets say a half dozen or so times with baby food and have never had to put it in the baggie.)


The flights themselves went well, although on the Detroit to Bangor flight both boys, ahem, went #2. Georgie in the diaper, Hank in the airplane commode. I won’t go into detail, but just imagine me and Georgie standing outside the bathroom, shouting instructions at Hank for the entire plane to hear, while he shouts back through the folding door, “I had to go POOP Mommy! I can’t find the toilet paper, so I’m not gonna wipe. Where’s the flusher?”

Good times.