Whine and Jeez.

Magical cookies.

I totally jinxed myself.

Why oh why would I put it out there to the cosmos that I was relaxed- especially after my drama-free flight? And how about the fact that yesterday afternoon I actually mentioned that I had NOTHING to blog about for Monday morning?

That’ll show me.

United Airlines Strike Number 1: The flight was delayed. For mechanical reasons. In fact, it hadn’t even left Chicago by the time I got to the airport, less than an hour before takeoff. (Kid at the counter: Uh, we updated the flight status twenty minutes ago. Me: I usually give myself a little more transit time than that. Do you think I live in the airport parking lot?) Also- To Whom It May Concern, rounding an hour and forty minutes delay down to “an hour” is NOT whimsical nor is it refreshing.

Nora Jane Point 1: “Mama- dat!” This was exclaimed happily toward every single piece of artwork, display window and ceiling installation…which, truth be told, I would have entirely missed due to grumpiness.

United Airline Strike Number 2: The kid at gate counter (what, is it Take Your Surly Tween To Work Day?) was eye-poppingly rude. Because of the late hour in which we’d be landing, I wanted to check on the availability of two seats together and the Economy Plus seating- which, hilariously enough, was the same free option on the fight out east. He snapped that they don’t just GIVE those seats out, there’s a reason people PAY for them. (Blink, blink.) Really? Is my money no good here? Am I a little match girl begging for crusts of bread? HAVE I OFFENDED YOU BY ASKING YOU TO DO YOUR JOB? He also demanded to see my boarding pass before he’d let me put a gate tag on Nora’s stroller. Yes, because during all of this fun, I’m going to pointlessly hand over the easiest method of transporting my kid onto a flight which I have no intention of taking. Would you also like her sippy cup and spare diaper?

Nora Jane Point 2: She rustled up some good will amongst the cranky passengers, hopefully buying us some time on the flight for peace, love and understanding. She also attempted to share what appeared to be the best shortbread cookies in the history of the world, ever.

United Airlines Strike 3: The gate kid refused to acknowledge priority boarding between groups 1 and 2- which the flight heading east most certainly did. I realize that this is not a humongous deal except for the pain in the buttitude for those boarding directly after me having to wait and watch me heft two carry-ons, my child, and fold a stroller for AN OBVIOUSLY GOVERNMENT-REGULATED GATE CHECK. And this is before we even get on the darned plane. And- and– I could’ve just sucked it up and acknowledged the fact that we were all running late, let’s get on the plane and shut up, if not for the fact that he was giving me The Eye during the boarding process (and I am not normally paranoid), daring me to say or do something. In terms of Example Making, he wanted me to be the Piggy to his Jack. (Anyone?)

Nora Jane Point 3: She let me hoist her under one arm with nary a peep during the boarding shenanigans.

United Airlines Strike 4: (Seriously, if I had had any other options at this point, I would’ve lit someone on fire. Maybe this is unwise to post in conjunction with an airport story?) United seated me in a two seat row next to an extraordinarily obese woman. (No joke- she needed two seatbelt extenders. I didn’t know that EXISTED!) And, most magically of all, she was holding a nine month old baby. Two kids on the whole flight and they’re wedged together. (Also, I do believe that United’s rules prohibit that kind of thing in one row, but I wasn’t about to whip out the rule book at this point.) I had to sit sideways with Nora’s legs dangling over my armrest into the aisle. This is no exaggeration- the woman took up her seat and over half of mine. NOT COOL. I asked an attendant if there were any other seats so that the kids didn’t keep each other up during the flight- she said she’d check.

Nora Jane Point 4: Babies! We love babies!

United Airlines Strike 5: There were multiple single seats open next to people who really really wanted extra space for their Kindles and nap pillows. The flight attendant asked if anyone would be willing to move or have a baby next to them. NO ONE WOULD. So we took off. And did I mention that the massive woman reeked of stale smoke and her kid was already starting to do that hehhhh whine of extremely overtired babies? (I know it well. I was doing it, too.)

Humanity Point 1: Some generous soul reluctantly agreed to be moved to Economy Plus- IN HIS OWN ROW- and this allowed Nora and I to take the back row of seats before the toilet. Win. The rest of the flight progressed as follows: snacks, books, twenty second increments of Dora the Explorer on iPhone, five minute increments of app deleting, snacks, books, stickers, snack of stickers, Chex mix massage for laptop, hiding of blueberries (later to be found directly on the butt of jeans), the hour long version of Itsy Bitsy Spider, tweaked laughter, no sleeping.

I’m not entirely sure how I managed to birth a better traveler than myself, but I’m eternally grateful. Another fun fact: Did you know that certain economy jets do not come equipped with a changing table in the bathroom? None. Nor do some flights offer any dairy products aside from powdered creamer? The combination of apple juice and nary a spot for diaper swapping inspired some awfully creative changing action. It didn’t phase her.

Nor did the fact that during this quick change, I got a nose bleed.

I’m amazed she’s even talking to me today.

Upon getting home, I became a pile of Useless and was promptly tucked in at 10pm CST- if it was even that late. I inexplicably woke later on to check on Nora and make sure tags were displayed somewhere. I checked the clock, thrilled that I had gotten such a good night’s sleep so far and that Nora hadn’t yet stirred.

It was 11:41pm.

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