Part I: Chaos and Balloon Animals
Let me tell you about my day. Or I will but this will be a multi part post, so I guess I’ll be telling you about today tomorrow.
Since the beginning is a good place to start….I’ll begin with yesterday.
Just to put it all into context.
However I’m going to just run through the highlights or else I’m going to have to start posting in chapters.
Part I
Yesterday’s Highlights:
I had to leave on a business trip. To Skokie IL. IN FEBRUARY. I don’t know about you but I avoid O’Hare in the winter. It’s just logical.
Unsurprisingly, business is rarely logical. So I was off to Skokie.
For once I made it out the door by 6:30am for my 8:33 flight. Considering what it takes to get out the door these baby-laden days I feel like I deserve my own cheering section. Mothers everywhere… you’re cheering inside for me right now aren’t you? Because you know… you just know…
As I was entering the car I felt an obnoxious poke to my underarm. From experience I know what this poke is. Under-wire that is not so much under anymore as out.
Another nursing bra has bit the dust and so has my nice on-time start to the day.
Apparently Motherwear has decided that the last thing a nursing mother needs is a bra of sturdy design or even one that just stays in one piece. I own 4 under-wire cotton bras from them and all of them have needed significant repair.
Take this as a side note to all you new/future-new moms… If you’re looking for dust rags, buy from Motherwear. If you’re looking for a bra that will actually hold up to washing and **gasp** wearing…. well….just…just look anywhere else.
Off subject yes, but the bra thing was important… anyhow, back to telling you about my yesterday, the point of which is to frame today.
By now we’ve gone back into the house and are now back to the car and I’m wearing a new bra, but it’s 15 minutes later…and now dangerously cutting it close to make it to Logan and onto that plane.
Traffic? Oh yeah there was traffic…and my blood pressure? Somewhere above my head.
I get to the airport, think to myself that it was harder than usual to get a parking spot. I’m later than I’d like but my some miracle still not truly late. I’ve traveled this route often and know the terminal. Its small and the gates are easy to get to…. all I have to do is run through a self check kiosk and through security, 20 minutes tops and I’ll be at my gate.
The parking elevator opens at the ticketing level.
Pandemonium.
The breath runs right out of me. Chaos everywhere….
Chaos and balloon animals.
Apparently in honor of February school break next week every family in Massachusetts was heading out on Thursday morning. American Airlines in a brave attempt to keep frustrated families sane had people wandering through the crowds twisting balloons into poodles.
How do they hire for that? Can you see the job questionnaire?
And why balloons? Wouldn’t Prozac work better?
A quick look at my watch had my intestines doing a poodle twist of their own, 7:45am.
Every self check kiosk was obscured by confused families who seemed a few frustrated finger pokes away from taking a sledge hammer to the machines. There was frustrated crying from umbrella strollers 3 and 4 deep. There were harried attendants who had long lost their sense of direction and were literally turning in tired circles.
Pure luck brings my gaze to the left and my salvation. A kiosk being used as a backrest by a father who seemed amused by his wife’s attempts to use the machine beside him with 4 inch finger nails in a startling shade of orange.
7:56…. SIX minutes shy of the half hour before flight check in limitations I have my boarding pass in hand.
I turn the corner to security and a scene right of hell greets me. Not unexpected by this time but nightmarish none the less… a winding line of unfathomable length twisted before me.
Boarding is at 8:03.
Ignoring the death glares from the irate masses I run to the first security checkpoint attendant. Young, inexperienced with flat out mulish posture I figured any chance I had at making my flight was lost as without a word she pointed her finger back at the line.
A lucky glance to my left showed a supervisor taking the crowd under surveillance, clip board in hand. My desperation must have read loud and clear because she walked over, hand out, took my ticket, looked at my suit, carry-on, laptop already out and motioned me to follow her. I found myself joining a gaggle of harried suits with carry-ons and we passed through security with practiced ease.
8:10 I’m on the other side and striding for my gate. I dodge strollers and children playing with some sort of ball on a string. I pass booths selling coffee and pastry and smell both as my stomach rumbles with regret.
8:15 I’m on board and settled in. The plane is unusually full for a small commuter jet but I’m beyond care. I’m just grateful I’m on board at all.
8:33 the plane pulls back from the gate on schedule.
8:34 the pilot welcomes us.
8:35 the pilot announces that we’re going to be stuck on the runway for 2 hours and 20 minutes.
Somewhere up front a baby starts crying.
I think that about sums it up.
Since the beginning is a good place to start….I’ll begin with yesterday.
Just to put it all into context.
However I’m going to just run through the highlights or else I’m going to have to start posting in chapters.
Part I
Yesterday’s Highlights:
I had to leave on a business trip. To Skokie IL. IN FEBRUARY. I don’t know about you but I avoid O’Hare in the winter. It’s just logical.
Unsurprisingly, business is rarely logical. So I was off to Skokie.
For once I made it out the door by 6:30am for my 8:33 flight. Considering what it takes to get out the door these baby-laden days I feel like I deserve my own cheering section. Mothers everywhere… you’re cheering inside for me right now aren’t you? Because you know… you just know…
As I was entering the car I felt an obnoxious poke to my underarm. From experience I know what this poke is. Under-wire that is not so much under anymore as out.
Another nursing bra has bit the dust and so has my nice on-time start to the day.
Apparently Motherwear has decided that the last thing a nursing mother needs is a bra of sturdy design or even one that just stays in one piece. I own 4 under-wire cotton bras from them and all of them have needed significant repair.
Take this as a side note to all you new/future-new moms… If you’re looking for dust rags, buy from Motherwear. If you’re looking for a bra that will actually hold up to washing and **gasp** wearing…. well….just…just look anywhere else.
Off subject yes, but the bra thing was important… anyhow, back to telling you about my yesterday, the point of which is to frame today.
By now we’ve gone back into the house and are now back to the car and I’m wearing a new bra, but it’s 15 minutes later…and now dangerously cutting it close to make it to Logan and onto that plane.
Traffic? Oh yeah there was traffic…and my blood pressure? Somewhere above my head.
I get to the airport, think to myself that it was harder than usual to get a parking spot. I’m later than I’d like but my some miracle still not truly late. I’ve traveled this route often and know the terminal. Its small and the gates are easy to get to…. all I have to do is run through a self check kiosk and through security, 20 minutes tops and I’ll be at my gate.
The parking elevator opens at the ticketing level.
Pandemonium.
The breath runs right out of me. Chaos everywhere….
Chaos and balloon animals.
Apparently in honor of February school break next week every family in Massachusetts was heading out on Thursday morning. American Airlines in a brave attempt to keep frustrated families sane had people wandering through the crowds twisting balloons into poodles.
How do they hire for that? Can you see the job questionnaire?
And why balloons? Wouldn’t Prozac work better?
A quick look at my watch had my intestines doing a poodle twist of their own, 7:45am.
Every self check kiosk was obscured by confused families who seemed a few frustrated finger pokes away from taking a sledge hammer to the machines. There was frustrated crying from umbrella strollers 3 and 4 deep. There were harried attendants who had long lost their sense of direction and were literally turning in tired circles.
Pure luck brings my gaze to the left and my salvation. A kiosk being used as a backrest by a father who seemed amused by his wife’s attempts to use the machine beside him with 4 inch finger nails in a startling shade of orange.
7:56…. SIX minutes shy of the half hour before flight check in limitations I have my boarding pass in hand.
I turn the corner to security and a scene right of hell greets me. Not unexpected by this time but nightmarish none the less… a winding line of unfathomable length twisted before me.
Boarding is at 8:03.
Ignoring the death glares from the irate masses I run to the first security checkpoint attendant. Young, inexperienced with flat out mulish posture I figured any chance I had at making my flight was lost as without a word she pointed her finger back at the line.
A lucky glance to my left showed a supervisor taking the crowd under surveillance, clip board in hand. My desperation must have read loud and clear because she walked over, hand out, took my ticket, looked at my suit, carry-on, laptop already out and motioned me to follow her. I found myself joining a gaggle of harried suits with carry-ons and we passed through security with practiced ease.
8:10 I’m on the other side and striding for my gate. I dodge strollers and children playing with some sort of ball on a string. I pass booths selling coffee and pastry and smell both as my stomach rumbles with regret.
8:15 I’m on board and settled in. The plane is unusually full for a small commuter jet but I’m beyond care. I’m just grateful I’m on board at all.
8:33 the plane pulls back from the gate on schedule.
8:34 the pilot welcomes us.
8:35 the pilot announces that we’re going to be stuck on the runway for 2 hours and 20 minutes.
Somewhere up front a baby starts crying.
I think that about sums it up.
posted by Mama2Arden | 10:04 PM
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