I have flown with Eva a lot this past year, and only once with help. Each time has been dramatically different because of how fast this Diva Eva has grown up. There have been easy flights where she slept the whole time, busy flights where she played nonstop, and difficult flights when she cried a lot. But none of the trips have been as horrible as this last flight out of Salt Lake to visit my family in Kentucky for Christmas.
It began very early, our flight left at 8 am so we had to get Eva up before she was ready, which already is a recipe for disaster. I wasn’t too worried though, considering usually I fly by myself and have handled it. But when our flight was delayed for two and a half hours, things got worse by the minute. Eva was already tired and our flight hadn’t departed yet. We boarded the plane, then an hour later, got off the plane. We tried to find another way to Kentucky, but the layover to Chicago-the original plan-was the only way it would work because so many flights were being cancelled due to weather problems.
Three hours after the plane was supposed to depart, we FINALLY were in the air. We entertained Eva until she got to a point where she was so tired, she wouldn’t do anything except whine. After MANY prayers, she fell asleep and we didn’t move for the next half and hour, in fear she would feel a twitch and wake up.
Little did we know that the arm rest was loose and would later crash down on her. Not only did it awaken poor baby Eva, it startled her so much she wouldn’t stop crying until we landed. We had already used our secret weapon, the candy cane, so we just let her cry, sip her bottle, and hoped we would never see anyone on that plane for the rest of our lives.
We got to Chicago. The flight to Louisville had long ago departed. The next flight was 7:00 pm, five hours away. Then I realized we could try to catch a flight to Cincinnati instead, since it’s closer to our home anyway. (It’s too expensive to fly into usually.) Thankfully, there was a flight departing soon and, if we hurried, we would make it-although our luggage, they said, definitely would not.
The service desk told us to take the shuttle to another terminal, which sounded easy enough, except that it left from the lower level. I asked a lady where the elevator was, since I only saw steps. This is what she said:
There is no elevator. Just steps.
Excuse me?!? I then replied:
What do handicapped people do?
They TAKE THE STEPS or WALK.
Well, thanks for the EXTREMELY vague help and the incredibly rude attitude, lady! Eva was in the jogging stroller and our stuff was all piled in the bottom. I told T.J. the situation and we decided we’d carry her down in the stroller. But then she yelled over to me saying:
That MERCEDES isn’t going to fit in the shuttle. You’ll have to fold it up. And the shuttle is here, so get going!
Enter a flood of tears, from yours truly, me. Also, I never want to fly United again because of her!
Long story, short. After Eva’s diaper leaking on T.J., a diaper blowout as soon as we got on the plane, and our luggage getting lost until the next day, we finally arrived at my parents’ home in Fort Thomas, KY!
Wish us luck for our flight tomorrow! After that last trip, I don’t think it could get any worse so we are probably prepared for everything!
