Vacation Day One

Leaving on a jet plane, don’t know if I’ll be back again

Well, I knew I would be back again.  Where else in the world would l live besides LA, the city of angels?  After working all day, I went home contemplating if I should just stay up all night.  Our flight left at 6:55 AM, which meant we had to be at the airport by 5:30 AM, I decided to let nature take its course and see how the evening progressed.

We had dinner, got the kids bathed, put on their jogging suits, and told them they could stay up as late as they wanted.  By 11:30 PM, the terrific trio was all asleep.  My mom was still packing and I was still puttering around the house since the kids and I were all packed and backpacks were ready to go by the door, along with airport flip flops.

I started making lunches, then I realized I didn’t have enough bread to make everyone two sandwiches and there wouldn’t be enough time to defrost more bread.  I hoped the apple sauce, fruit snacks, apples, pecan rolls, and chips, would be enough to get them full.

After I finished their lunches and cleaned the kitchen, I went to get their birth certificates, only to discover they weren’t there.  Social security cards, check.  Notarized adoption decrees, check.  Finding paperwork with Jory’s birth father’s first and last name (how had I missed that all these years), check.  But the only birth certificate, I could find was Rowan’s and I knew she had two.   

My mother’s comments about having all important paperwork together in one place, wasn’t really helping and had she missed the fact that all other important documents were together, I even had the envelopes and letters that came with the birth certificates.  Whatever, bygones.  I looked through all paperwork I had, even the places I knew they couldn’t be.  She suggested that they might be in her file cabinet.  Yes, they would be if she put them up after we came back from Alaska.  Of course, then the question became where to find the key to the file cabinet.

We couldn’t find the key so I called Southwest and they told me as long as children are traveling with their parents and are over two weeks old, no birth certificates or ID are required.  Dodged a bullet on that one, though I think the notarized adoption decrees probably would have worked too.  When we get back, we’re going to have to find the key to see if the birth certificates are in the cabinet.  Crisis averted.

Around 2:30 AM, I found myself roaming around the house not knowing where I was going or why I was leaving my room.  So at 3 AM, I got on the floor to look for something on my bed and somehow ended up taking a mini-nap, when I woke up I realized I couldn’t stay up any longer and I squeezed into bed with the kids for a nap.

I woke up shortly before 5 AM.  Crap!  I hit the ground running, brushing my teeth, throwing on my clothes, putting toothpaste on the kids’ toothbrushes, double checking to make sure all the kids have to do is get up and we can run out the door as soon as Eric pulls up.  I got the kids up.  They brushed their teeth, washed their faces, put on their flip flops, and their jean jackets.   

They were ready to go.

Eric showed up at 5:20 AM, raising my anxiety level with his late arrival, but Jory and I hustled the luggage out of the house as Eric loaded it into the Volvo.    While we loaded the car, my mom ran around the house double checking to make sure everything was locked up and we had everything we needed.  The kids got loaded into the car and my mom walked out of the house.

“You’re taking the stroller too?” she asked.

Are you kidding me?!  Does she not know me?  Yash’s parenting philosophy 101 – keep the kids contained.  The Irish twins ride in the double stroller and Jory pushes it.  Look no need to search for anyone because all three are in one place.  “Yes, I’m taking the stroller.”  Just like I did last year when we went on our very first vacation together.  What better place to use a double stroller than a gigantic airport?

I could tell she didn’t think it was necessary, but I ignored her and put the stroller in the front seat.

I turned my car around, locked it up, and walked down the driveway to the car as she locked the gate.  I squeezed in the front seat with the stroller and my backpack threatening to cut of my circulation, but it was only for a short while.  Eric sped across town and got us to LAX before 6 AM.  I took my friend, Ellen’s advice and took advantage of the services available to me.  Sometimes being frugal needs to take a back seat to convenience.  So instead of me going inside like usual, I used the curbside check in.  I already had our boarding passes, so as Eric unloaded the car, the porter started tagging suitcases.  I unfolded the double stroller and tried to get the girls and Jory situated while the men did their jobs.  Everything was out of the car, tipped the porter, waved goodbye to Eric, and walked inside LAX.  Yep, our vacation had officially begun.

Our flight left on time, my mom sat with Jory and Rowan, while the baby and I took the seats right across the aisle from them.  I was so sleepy.  All I wanted to do was sleep, but I was too cold.  I took out my blanket and wrapped it around me while Layla colored in her new coloring book.  (A huge shout out to all the moms who suggested every kid needed their own backpack with a change of clothes, blanket, and brand new activities to keep them occupied.)  Sleep was evasive, probably because Layla kept trying to talk to me and I could hear Rowan and Jory disagreeing about stuff, plus the blanket wasn’t warming my feet.  I needed my socks.  Once the socks were on, I was ready to fall in to a blissful sleep except then it was times for drinks, the kids were hungry, gobs of peanuts were being given to me.  I was finally able to sleep a little bit, then we landed in Houston.

We had an hour and twenty minute layover, enough time for a bathroom break, and finding our gate.  We leisurely perused the Space Station exhibit and made our way to our gate, only to discover our next flight was delayed by forty minutes.  Okay, so two hour layover that’s not so bad.  We walked to the end of the terminal, looked at an exhibit of models of older planes, and we looked out the window to see rain and lightning.  And this is exactly why I could never live in the South.  How can it be 90 degrees outside with crazy humidity then it randomly starts raining?!  Thank you Jesus for sending my uncle to LA when he was in the army.  Thank you for making him think it would be a great place to move.  And thank you for having all his brothers and sisters follow him out there and stay.

With a now more delayed plane, I decided we might as well do what we didn’t do on the plane and do some school reading.  I read a book about the Underground railroad to prep the kids, okay Jory, for our visit to the Civil War Museum and our Civil War driving tour.  After we finished that book, I decided we could start on one of Jory’s read-a-louds that we didn’t finish in the school year.  Nothing like school work in the summer time.

After some reading, coloring, the natives were getting restless and hungry so we went in search of food and came upon a wings place that Mona had mentioned to me.  Lately, I had been on a wings kick.  I heard an announcement about our flight so we went back to the gate, we had thirty minutes before the plane would start boarding.  I asked the ticket agent if we had enough time to order food, she wouldn’t give me a yes or no answer.  We walked over to the guy who was going to take our boarding passes and asked him, he said to order our food and come right back.  So off we went to order wings and fries and were back just in time to load the girls into the stroller, grab our stuff, and get in line to board.

Layla and Jory sat with me.  Score, more reading could get done!   Rowan sat with Oma, who somehow let some random passenger sit in between her and Rowan.  What was up with that?  Maybe Oma was just tired.

I busted out with the wings, only to discover that through the boarding and settling, one of the ranch dressings opened and spilled over everything.  Ranch dressing was everywhere and not nearly enough napkins to clean everything up, I did the best I could and tried to stop myself and Jory from eating the wings from the girls.  Though I was happy when I saw that Layla was more into eating the French fries then the wings, more wings for my baby boy and me.

I was freaking myself out as I saw Rowan talking to the woman she was sitting next to, I worried she was going to talk the poor woman’s ear off or bother her to death or ask her gazillion, million questions or ask her to look at every single thing she colored.  I had to let it go, as my mom passed food down to Rowan.

After our late lunch/dinner, it was time to clean up.  I needed another bag to transfer the remaining wings to, but I had none.  Note to self, add bags to things to carry on person next vacation.  Next thing I knew, a guy sitting in front of my mom handed me a bag. 

“I travel a lot and always carry bags,” he informed me.

Smart man.  I thanked him and transferred the food.  Now if only, I could nap the rest of the way.  I closed my eyes, but never truly fell asleep because the baby with a bladder of a ganat had to go to the bathroom.  Why can’t a woman design an airplane?  Why can’t a man with a child, whom he has taken on a solo vacation on an airplane, design an airplane?  Guess what wouldn’t be so tiny in the newly design airplanes?  What would I do if any of TTT were large and in charge children?  Bygones, I digress back to the story.

As I was supervising the kids putting up their coloring books and crayons and checking to make sure I didn’t leave anything in the pocket in the seat in front of me, I heard the pilot say, 

“We are landing in Atlanta on a record breaking day of 106 degrees.  Sorry about that.”  106 degrees?!  I looked at my watch, it was 6PM.  How in the world was that possible?  How do people live like this?  I quickly told Layla and Rowan to take off their purple sweatshirts to reveal their pink tank tops.  I looked at Jory and told him to quickly take off his shirt and undershirt, then hand me his undershirt and put the t-shirt back on.  I took off my well-traveled gold and maroon Concordia sweatshirt.

The humidity hit us as soon as we stepped off the plane and waited for the stroller to be brought up.  We got the stroller and walked quickly so I could feel the coolness of the air conditioner.  Being the first time, I ever had to leave the Atlanta airport, usually I stay in the terminal to transfer to another plane, I followed the sign that said, “Baggage Claim” with an arrow pointing straight ahead.

We walked and walked and walked.  We stood on the moving sidewalk, not sure what the purpose of that is for.  To give your feet a break from walking?  You’re still standing on them?  On and on, we went following the baggage claim sign and me stopping Jory from giving his Oma a heart attack by moving too far ahead of us or getting too close to someone else on the moving sidewalk.  I thought about explaining to my mom, the rules of walking.  Jory and the girls know they can’t turn corners without me, that if they can’t see me then I can’t see them so they are too far ahead, and if they can’t hear me speak, they need to come back, and that they need to be next to me or ahead of me, but never behind me.  I thought about reminding her that my kids and I have walked in airports before, but I thought why bother, she wouldn’t believe me anyway.  The best course of action was to get Jory to slow his roll so his Oma could walk in peace.

We walked for a good fifteen minutes before we finally saw someone who worked at the airport and he said, “Oh, you need to get on the train.”  You think the signs might have said or suggested that a gazillion years ago, but bygones.  We got on the train for one stop and presto we were there.  And like I told my mother the upside of it was that it took us so long to get to baggage claim that our luggage would be the only luggage on the carousel.  And I was correct.

Just as we were eyeing our luggage a porter came up.  Score!  He asked me if I was renting a car.  I told him, yes.  He told me he always advises families for one adult to go get the car while the other stays with the kids and luggage.  He told me I would have to take the train two stops, then make my way back to the airport.  He told me he would have my family waiting at terminal N-1.  I thanked him for this handy advice and off I went with my trusty backpack.

Out the doors, up the stairs, to wait for the train, on the train, trees, grass passed by me, wait, we’re leaving the airport?  The car rental place is somewhere else.  Happy, happy, joy, joy.  Off the train, down the stairs, I went to our car rental place.  Advantage car rental, not impressed with the customer service, but it was a good deal, so I continued on.  I got the keys, then had to go down, out, and across the street to where the cars were.  I found our Chevy Cruze, this was a full sized car?  Really?  Maybe they and I have different definitions of what that means.  How tiny was the mid-sized car if this was the full sized?  I had to stop again, so the car could be checked out by an agent.  Shouldn’t that have been done before they let me have the car?  But whatever.  I drove away, looking for signs directing me back to the airport, but saw none.  Ah, nothing better than driving around an unfamiliar town not sure how to get where you need to go.

I drove slowly, so slowly that others got from behind me.  I didn’t want to miss a sign that I needed to turn and of course, just as I sit in the light, I look at the north/south traffic light and see a sign that says “Airport straight ahead.”  I’m of course traveling east/west and I’m in the wrong lane, so I made an illegal lane change and head back to the airport.  I could feel the anxiety rising.  I’ve been gone over thirty minutes trying to get the car and now I need to find the north side of the airport to get my family.  My mom is alone with three tired kids who have been up since 5 AM, traveling all day, four pieces of luggage, and a double stroller.

I picked up my phone and dialed the first person I knew would be home, my beloved Roanna.  As I drove slowly up to the airport through the never ending southside, we talked.  It was great to hear a loving, familiar voice as they anxiety was trying to overtake me.  To make sure, I would one day reach the north side I stopped a taxi driver and he assured me I was headed in the right direction. 

I found the north side, praise God!  Were those my kids outside in the humidity?  What colors were they wearing again?  Yes, pink tank tops and purple sweatpants.  Yes, that’s them.  Jory was pushing the stroller, but I missed the turn in to get to the curb to pick them up.  Another round around the airport, please God, let them have a sign that says “Return to airport”, nope that would be helpful and obviously this city is not about being helpful.  Please let me choose the right lane to take that will bring me back around.

I blasted the air conditioner and turned on the radio.  Don McClurkin’s words were just what I needed to hear.  I was so grateful to whoever last had the car and had it on a Christian station.  I sent up a quick prayer.

Tell me what do you do
when you've done all you can
And it seems like you can't make it through
Child you just stand
You just stand
Stand

Don't you give up
Through the storm , through the rain
Through the hurt , through the pain

Well, you just stand
When there's nothing left to do
You just stand
Watch the Lord see you through
Yes, after you've done all you can
You just stand

Forty-five minutes after I left, I was pulling up to the curb and parking.  The baby was having a breakdown and had an accident.  As quickly as we could, we tried to put all the luggage into the drunk that worked, but the stroller didn’t quite fit.  The kids had to squeeze together and the stroller had to be the fourth passenger in the backseat.  Layla was not loving that at all.

My mom called my aunt to tell her we had landed.  My aunt then called my cousin who lived in Atlanta, who then called us and gave us directions to get to her house.  I was not liking how this trip was beginning.  I had mapquested every place I wanted to go in Atlanta from our hotel and how to get to and from the airport.  I didn’t need my mom calling LA so we could get “help.”  And secondly, my mom might be the worse person in the world to give directions to and since I was the one driving and she had the phone I was hearing second hand directions that weren’t quite making sense to me.  Deep breaths.  Deep breaths. 

I tried to pull away from the curb, but I couldn’t because there was a car parked in front of me with no one in it, there was a car behind me parked, and I couldn’t pull left because for some reason this man decided he would wait for his loved one in the lane furthest from the curb, then take a nap, making it impossible for people to get around him.  Was I in a third world country?  Where were the airport police?!?!  Where?!  LAX, officially, became the greatest airport in the world in my opinion.  Yes, I hate when every three seconds they are telling you to keep it moving, but that is a better alternative to this numnut sleeping in a lane where people need to drive.  After about five minutes, the cars behind us moved back and I was able to backup and drive around sleeping beauty and follow my mom’s sketchy directions into the outskirts of Atlanta.

The baby was in full meltdown mood, hitting Jory and Rowan because they were too close to her, because Jory was hitting her back.  Then someone was complaining that she was wet and touching them.  I tried to reprimand her, asked the older two to have the patience of Christ and just let her cry herself to sleep.  But it might have been hard to hear me over the roar of the air conditioning and since I didn’t fancy dying of a heat stroke, Rowan and Jory were just going to have to deal with the nuclear meltdown.  I had to let it go, we couldn’t start our first family reunion vacation with mommy having a mental breakdown.

We missed the exit to my cousin’s house and just as I was going to exit off the next exit I see the name of our hotel.  We had passed one Drury Inn, which I knew was the airport location, could this second location, be the one we were staying out.  I got off the freeway, drove up to the hotel, and hopped out to see.  Yes, they did have a reservation for us.  SCORE!  I grabbed the cart and pushed it to the car, popped the drunk and started unloading.

The baby, of course, had cried herself to sleep, so I now had to decide do I let sleeping dogs lie or do I dare wake her.  She woke up as I was lifting her out the car and praise God, she was in a good mood.  Crap, I forgot she was wet.  Oh well, we weren’t going anywhere.  My mom called my cousin and she was coming over to the hotel, because I wasn’t even going to attempt to find her house now.

I put the luggage against the wall by the dresser and turned the air conditioner on as high is it could go.  It felt like we had been traveling for a gazillion years, but it had only been ten hours, three airports, two planes, one rental car, and hotel room.  Thankfully everyone was full from their meal on the plane and we still had  snacks left.  I went downstairs to move the car and saw my cousin.  I hadn’t seen her in years, but she looked the same as I remembered her, laugh and all.

She met the girls for the first time and was reintroduced to Jory whom she hadn’t seen since he was a baby.  Then the kids reminded me that I told them they could go swimming.  So while my cousin chatted with her aunt, I opened suitcases, found bathing suits, and changed kids.  We bid my cousin, adieu, and went in search of the pool, which we discovered was in the basement, next to the three pieces of equipment and flat screen TV exercise room.

The heat and the chlorine almost knocked me over as I opened the door to the pool.  I figured with the weather being so hot, the kids could swim in the outdoor pool that the Drury had.  Except, it wasn’t like I expected.  There was a glass wall separating the indoor from the outdoor pool, but the wall stopped at the pool and the kids could swim under the wall and be in “outdoor” pool.  Interesting concept.  Sadly, the pool wasn’t that big.  You think with that concept they could make it an Olympic size pool.  But the kids didn’t mind and for the next two hours, they jumped, swam, showed me things Mr. Will taught them, and had a good time all around.

At 10 PM, the pool closed and it was back to the main floor, where we grabbed some popcorn, which the hotel served from 3 – 10 PM and some Coke, also free from 3  - 10.  With our hands full, we went to our room to go to bed, except Oma was hungry.  I got the girls dried off, found the Disney channel, while Jory put on his shirt and we walked to the nearest restaurant to get Oma a vegetarian burger.  I tried to explain that this wasn’t LA and I don’t think Krystal’s is really going to have a veggie burger, but I don’t think she heard me.  She had stayed up all night, so she probably wasn’t fully awake.  No, she was definitely tired because it was 10:30 PM and she was letting Jory and I walk in an unfamiliar town by ourselves to the fast food joint.

As we walked and held hands, Jory and I talked.

“Mommy, it’s hot out here.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It isn’t this hot in America.”

I chuckled.  “Jory, we are in America.  America is a big country, we’re just on the other side of it.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think it’s hot?”

“Yes, I do.”

“See, it’s not this hot in America.”

“Remember, this is America.”  I’m going to have use the globe more or buy a map of the US.

We walked into Krystal’s and while they did have grits on the menu, welcome to the South, there was no such thing as a veggie burger.  So I just ordered a cheeseburger, she could always take the meat off.  As we waited for her meal, a group of teenage boys were sitting across from us and the mom overheard us as Jory and I talked.  She asked if we were from out of town and very nicely suggested some places we should visit.  One of the boys, I discovered some where her sons and the others her sons’ friends, suggested we drink the Beverlee drink when we went to the Coca Cola Museum, which was on the agenda for the next day.

We grabbed Oma’s food and I noticed it was missing French fries.  The young man working the register looked tired and surprised that he had missed putting the fries in the bag.  He had just messed up someone else’s order, I hoped the restaurant closed soon so he could go home and go to bed.  There were only three sets of customers in the restaurant, someone else was working the drive through,  so really he should be on his game, but I gave him the tired card and just thanked him and kept it moving.

Walking back outside, Jory once again commented on how America was different from here and as I looked up at the street signs hanging from wires and the fact that the sidewalk abruptly stopped and we had to walk through grass or in the street, I decided not to correct him again.  This definitely wasn’t LA.  And when I got the strange look about the veggie burger, I never felt more like an LA girl.

Oma woke up when we walked through the door.  She opened her bag and as I changed told me, “There’s no cheese on this burger.”  Of course there wasn’t, why didn’t I double check behind tired guy.  But she was hungry and I was tired, so thankfully she ate it.

I got all the kids in bed and I finally laid my head against the pillow with the sounds of some random, goofy Disney show playing in my ear.  Day one concluded.

The blur behind her is her big brother in his favorite seat next to the window to see what people on the tarmac are doing and what the plane is doing.