Nothing is ever as easy as you imagine it will be, no matter how prepared and organized you believe you are going in....
Chapter One: Finishing up at the Edinburg House
We did not end up staying in the hotel rooms we had hurriedly booked the night before; the movers did not arrive at noon, but rather 7:30 pm, which meant all they had time to do that evening was inventory and the actual move was going to take place Wednesday am
as scheduled. Ah - nothing like the ol' "hurry up and wait." Since hotel rooms had to be cancelled by 6:00 pm in order to avoid the charge, that was a few dollars down the tubes.
Wednesday morning began with an unexpected 3:30 am wake-up call from someone other than Andrew who had experienced a rough evening and needed to talk. I had gone to bed at midnight, so there it was - 3.5 hours of sleep was all I was going to get before the day's upcoming craziness. The movers showed back up at our house at 7:00 am and started loading. We were taken to the airport at 10:30 am while a couple of family members (the hound couriers) stayed behind to watch over the movers and close up the house when they left, which ended up being 6:30 pm.
Chapter Two: McAllen-Houston Flight
Our time at the McAllen airport was spent watching incoming flights and scarfing down our last Whataburger meals with Aunt Christina and Sandy. Everyone raided the gift shop and we didn't even mind the extra stuff to carry. Soon, the bittersweet moment was upon us; we said our very tearful good-byes and made our way pretty easily through security.
Andrew's last (and only) flight was when he was two months old, exactly one year ago. He just nursed and slept the whole time and it was really easy. I knew today's flights would not be as easy, but I kept telling myself the same thing that had kept me sane in the crazy days that had led up to this one - it's all a means to an end.
We boarded the McAllen-Houston flight, got all settled in, fastened seatbelts, retrieved the snacks, and were ready for leg one of two. As luck would have it, the captain came on at that moment with the news of scattered thunderstorms in Houston and we'd be sitting on the tarmac for about an hour. He'd rather we didn't exit the plane, but we could if it was absolutely necessary.
Yeah - no-brainer there. We got up from our BACK ROW (did I mention that?) seats and trudged back off the plane and through the jet way. After 30 minutes or so, I was on my way to the restroom with Andrew to change an extremely full diaper when I heard the announcement that we all needed to be back on the plane immediately or the plane would leave us (not kidding - this was the first announcement). Forget the diaper change, WE GOTTA GO!!! So, we got back on the plane, facing a one-hour delay and - at best - 25 minutes in Houston to change terminals and planes unless by some act of God, the second flight was delayed.
The flight itself was smooth and beautiful and Andrew slept and pleasantly played the whole time so all was well. Then, we landed. Again, we were in the very back of the plane and therefore the LAST people off it. I quickly asked the gate agent where we were headed and her words were these,"Gate C84N, if you make it."
OK, so let's get a cart ASAP. Sorry, ma'am, no carts available.
The 20-year-old-vacationers with no children or smoking mothers really do need that cart they are sitting on. @#$%. Off we RUUUUUNNN. I was carrying Andrew and two heavier-than-necessary bags. Anyone who's experienced the Houston airport knows getting to your gate when having to change terminals means a separate train and numerous sub-hallways that rival the layout of the Louvre. Mom and Skip were in my dust and I didn't even care. Andrew and I were GETTING on that plane and we WERE going to end up in Charlotte with Jon at 7:28 pm as planned.
At least ten hallways later, Andrew and I arrived at the gate where the agents were yelling, "ANYONE ELSE FOR CHARLOTTE?" I reached into my bag and then remembered Mom had my boarding pass.
Damn. Huffing and puffing, I approached the lady at the gate to explain that we just arrived from McAllen. "Where have you been?" she says to me. Lucky for her that I didn't have enough time to put in my two cents. Thankfully, I saw Mom and Skip rounding the corner and we all jumped on a cart in the nick of time.
Chapter Three: Houston-Charlotte Flight or Continental's Extremely Disgruntled Employees Unleash their Wrath on the Innocent
It was a small plane; two seats on one side and one on the other. We were definitely the last three people on it. Collapsing in our assigned seats, we breathed a sigh of relief as we fastened our seatbelts. Enter Jeannie, psycho flight attendant (PFA). Her first words [insert nasty tone]:"Someone in this row needs to move. There aren't enough airbags." Mom did not handle the news or the tone very well and let her know by asking, "Why? We booked them like this." PFA got even more condescending and nasty as she re-explained (even though Continental really did allow us to book in that row, infant boarding pass and all). Mom got more and more upset. Skip got up from the one row seat and moved back. Mom moved over to his previous seat. Andrew and I remained in the two-seater. Mom leaned over to ask me something just as the captain was coming across the speaker with the usual useless pre-flight drivel. Mom asked me what he had said just as PFA passed by. She turned to Mom and said, "IF you had been listening, you would have heard what he said." That was enough for me. I stuck my pointer finger in PFA's face and said "We do not EVEN need this attitude from you today." PFA immediately left us and went to the front where we saw her speaking to the captain.
Great. Now we're going to get kicked off the plane. I tried to think happy Jon thoughts and tried my damndest to put it all behind me and feign calmness. The plane had not yet started its taxi, so I handed Andrew to Mom so I could search for snacks. PFA on speaker:"Infants are to be seated on the two-seat side of the airplane." Yep. That was for us. Mom and I just laughed and she handed Andrew back to me. I performed a one-armed snack search and then put him in the seat beside me to quickly call Jon with the tale of our Continental concentration camp. I was literally hiding behind the seat, even though we had still not started taxing. As soon as I got him on the phone, there was PFA in my face, "THAT is supposed to be OFF!" Those who really know me know how difficult it was for me, but I still said nothing to PFA and politely hung up on the husband I had not seen in 3 weeks and put the phone away. After that, here were still a few ways we apparently "screwed up" and were publicly scolded via intercom, but at least we didn't have to deal with this lady directly anymore. I was already composing a well-worded letter to Continental in my head.
By this point, Mom was really upset about the abuse and we were both crying out of sheer frustration and exhaustion. Then, an epiphany - have a completely miserable 2.5 hours, or get flies with sugar versus vinegar? So, when it was time for beverage service, I simply said to PFA, "We got off on the wrong foot." Bing!!! She then went into Dr. Jekyll mode and offered us free drinks for the rest of the flight. On the captain, so she said. We were instant friends, and Mom and I were definitely catered-to in a big way the rest of the time. It still doesn't mean I won't be sending along a little note to Continental, but she did manage to make it all better for the time-being.
Now, even though we were kind of living the first-class lifestyle, the rest of the flight wasn't necessarily a breeze. I had to tuck my tail to PFA when Andrew spilled my entire first Bloody Mary into his diaper bag. And then there was the time he had a runny poop that trashed his cute outfit, as well as the air for the folks sitting in the immediate vicinity. Then, of course, Andrew, who had been angelic for this flight, had an ear-grabbing meltdown during the pressure-screwy descent.
So, the moving experience was not easy. Not one bit of it. And it's still going, as we await delivery of our dogs and belongings to once-again enter the world of renting in a totally new place and state. Even still, we have a feeling it will all be worth it.
The venture began beautifully (beautiful except for me - I passed on a shower in an effort to rush out the door early and beat the crowds). What did parents ever do before these great carts? Andrew always has a lot of fun "driving" us around the store and waving to the passers-by. (And yes, the camera is pretty much a permanent fixture in the diaper bag. One never knows when photo-ops might arise...)
