Big Mama Taylor Blog

Big Mama Taylor Blog

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Traveling Makes Me Want to Vom

After the summer vacation with the fam that I have had, I am ready to hunker down in my house only to leave for provisions like cookie dough and Chick Fil A. We have been in Fort Lauderdale, Weston, Orlando, New York, Boston, Cape Cod, Dallas, Oklahoma, and then just Brooks and I took a trip (through Detroit) to Green Bay, Wisconsin....now granted, New York and Dallas were airport stops but I need a nap just after typing them! However, if there is anything worth powering through for, it is definitely a fabulous friend's wedding. One of my best friends Emily got married this past weekend and I was beyond excited to be able to watch her marry a fabulous guys who treats her like a queen.

I briefly wondered if Delta Airlines would take pity on a gal traveling with a child alone and let me check Brooks as a pet for this trip, especially if I was able to convince them he really likes small confined spaces like dog crates. I figured someone would get all hot and bothered about this and call child services, so I was stuck boarding my 7th plane with the little ball of energy alone, and if anyone has ever flown with a small child (or got the dreaded seat next to one) you know why I feel like I'm about to cry. Traveling is tiring and stressful enough for a pregnant lady to do alone, let alone have to drag around a 28 lb hot mess the whole day.

I have a few gripes with traveling today, of course. It seems like every time I fly the planes are getting smaller and smaller, though it could be that I am getting bigger and bigger (that's actually a fact.) In fact, a man at the Y today informed me that I sure was "really pregnant," and that there was "no way" he could see me making it to November. Aaah lovely. Just what you want to hear. So I wedge myself into this tiny seat, grumbling things to myself about how I need to cut back on my McDonald's dipped cone intake, only to face the arm rest battle. You know exactly what I mean, lots-of-make-up blonde lady who totally stole my arm rest on the flight from Dallas to Ft Lauderdale. This lady was nice enough, but she won the arm rest battle, making my 3 inches of space to share with Brooks feel even smaller! There is a very important time period when you both first sit down, I'd say anywhere from 90 seconds to 4 minutes, when one of you is going to make it clear that they will be using the arm rest. You really can't go back once this decision has been made, a bit like someone shouting shotgun, you just mutter to yourself, "darn, they got me on that one."

In addition to the seats being tiny, I have a growing concern with the cleanliness of these seats. This of course stems from the fact that I have now seen what a toddler can do to those seats and I don't think they're spending hours between flights steam vacuuming each seat. I watched Brooks eat and spit out a full graham cracker, and then slowly grind it into the corner of the seat. When you are dealing with confined spaces you are just concentrating on survival mode, but it is after these flights that I wonder how many seats have been thrown up on, peed on, only to have me plop right down and settle in on them.

When you have a child sleeping on you there is not much you can do except people watch. The US Weekly Magazine is too far out of reach to risk waking said sleeping child, and the Delta Sky Magazine literally couldn't be more boring. Um, a 4 page spread on the snacks available on flight? Come on throw me a bone here I'm bored out of my mind. One thing that I noticed is that people really don't look cute while sleeping. Um, dude with your mouth hanging completely open with a goatee? I can see you have had extensive dental work. That's because I just spent 10 mind numbingly agonizing minutes staring into your mouth because my only other option is lady who keeps smiling at me (I'm afraid she wants to talk, we have 2 hours left, I can't chit chat with this chic that long).

I am deeply respectful of every single person who comes to their job every day and works hard, but can we all agree that the bag checking agents can cool their jets a little bit? I have found that the smaller the airport, the more strict these people are, as if to say, hey we may seem like small fries but we are going to run your backpack through 8 times, just to make you squirm a little. On the way back from Green Bay they literally did run my backpack through the scanner three times only to have to personally inspect it, opening it up to find about 25 trains and enough snacks to feed a small army. Really, am I your biggest threat, lady with a backpack full of trains?

Unfortunately, the husband wasn't able to come with me to the wedding, as Miami Dolphins training camp started the week before. You know what is a little sad? A married lady at a wedding alone. You know what is really, really, really sad? A pregnant married lady at a wedding alone. But don't fret, I would like to think I could make anything fun, so I spent a better part of Friday's rehearsal dinner chasing around the appetizer lady with the bites of fried Brie cheese. I would always catch her out of the corner of my eye coming out of the kitchen with new provisions and could see her making a distinct turn to avoid the pregnant lady so others could get some, but I always tracked her down.

Luckily my only other trip before Baby Taylor #2 makes his debut in November is a trip to Chicago I'll be taking alone for another wedding of one of my roommates in college, Hilary. It'll be great to see everyone and catch up, and I really look forward to riding a plane ALONE....and you better believe I'll be winning that arm rest war.

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