Crappy Trails to You

For some reason, when I travel, there are inevitably some dramatic, unpleasant details that befall me.

I have been in Utah for the past 8 days. I came home to Illinois yesterday with my family. A week before, I flew alone to meet them. After flying for the last two years (and dozens of flights) with a two-year-old, I was excited to be on my own, listening to music or reading a book without having to worry about a toddler misbehaving. Not even the two hour delay or extreme butt soaking I got from the automatic flushing toilet could bring me down. I just took it all in stride.

On the way home, there was a much different tune playing. I started to anticipate a rocky day of travel when the day before we were to leave, I started to feel a little funny. I had my usual headache but added to it was a sudden neck crank (I'm getting old and can't play games with a 2-year-old anymore). Then there was the feeling that my whole body had been pumped full of air with one of those foot pumps. I was burping (and other ways of expelling air) and felt quite nauseated. It could have been the sushi I overstuffed myself with or maybe I got some communicable disease from the animals I had been touching at a local farm. All I wanted to do was lie down and whine.

Then, the day of travel arrived. I woke up and knew things weren't going my way. The feelings of the day before had not subsided but added to it was the delight of rushing to the bathroom a few times every other minute. Wonderful. I was offered coffee that morning. Definitely not. In preparation for our departure that day, we spent the morning with family, going out to breakfast and hitting up the outdoor mall. Then to the airport. Things seemed to be rolling right along without a hitch: no line at security, a play area right by our gate. I was even feeling a little bit better at that point. We boarded the plane and Eli was having a great time and was even being very agreeable. Could this be? Then the death blow was dealt. As we were preparing to leave the gate, the pilot alerted us of a delay due to a storm in Chicago. It would be a little over an hour, but we would be staying on the plane, in case we were able to leave any earlier. Great. The hour passed and Eli played happily (albeit loudly). Then, again, as we were ready to pull out, we were notified that there was now an indefinite delay. We could stay on the plane if we'd like or get off with all of our stuff and not come back on until we the plane was ready to leave. It was too much work to get off so we stayed on the stuffy plane and Eli mercifully fell asleep. Another hour passed. The deplaned passengers got back on (loudly) and woke my sleeping child, who quickly became out of sorts. Finally, we took off and life resumed. Over the next 2-1/2 hours, there was mostly pleasantness plus two diaper changes - one of them smelly and messy (thanks Mark for handling that). Also, I stepped in someone's pee in the bathroom and realized that my feet smelled for the first time ever (not like pee, but more like vinegar).

We landed. Pilot came back on and started with "This is just not my day..." It seemed that another plane was occupying our gate and we would have to sit on the runway until it cleared. Thirty more minutes passed. Finally off the plane, we hobbled through the airport (smelly feet and all) with a toddler (not in a stroller), a car seat, a rolly-bag, a backpack, and a huge shoulder bag. Added to that was golf clubs and enormous (47 lb) suitcase we picked up in baggage claim. It would have been smart to rent one of those carts but instead we broke our bodies trying to get it all to the curb to wait for our ride (who had spent nearly 3 hours waiting at a nearby oasis).

Over two more hours in the car and finally we were home. The day of hellish travel was over at last.

I woke up like a gas bag again today and my body felt all out of alignment after carrying double my weight in toddler and luggage. I don't think I'll be traveling again for some time.