It’s official. Planes hate G and I.

Yesterday, Gregory and I travelled home to CA. Our first mistake was booking a flight that left from DFW at 6:10am. G and I were sooo sleepy. I was incredibly nervous about the trip, seeing as I was to be alone with him, without any help from Jesse in the airport.

We got onto the plane with only one minor hiccup. They made me take off my Moby Wrap and put it on the security belt. Yes, because it’s possible that I was carrying knives inside the carrier, next to my baby’s skin. Anyways, I didn’t have any hands to hold G AND re-tie the thing on, so in my desperation, I had to ask a complete stranger next to me to hold him (it was that or the floor!). Luckily, she and her husband were traveling with two small kids, so I knew she was familiar with babies. I made the mistake of joking about how this could make them want more kids. “No,” the dad said with a creepy laugh. “The doctors took care of that when they cut me!” Oooookkkkaaayyy………

Once on the plane, I realized that G and I were seated in between 2 people. That’s right, a “MIDDLE” seat. The lady on my left was quite large. I realized that this was a problem the moment I started nursing G– he “kicked” her the entire time. Her size was actually a “plus” in some ways — she didn’t even feel most of it (is that wrong of me to point out? Trying to see the bright side!).

We sat there….and sat there….and we never took off. Then, they pulled back to the gate. “A suspicious light on the dashboard”, was all the pilot said.

We took off 45 minutes later, which means that G was already restless, seeing as there was no white noise to lull him back to sleep. I managed to get him to nap for 30 minutes, but I basically had to entertain him on my lap for nearly 3 hours, all the while trying to keep him from crying/screaming in his over-cranky state.

And then, the real fun began. Right as we began our descent into the Phoenix airport, I heard “the percolator”. You know, G’s bowels. “Great”, I thought. Not only are we going to have to rush off the plane to try and make our connection, but I’m gonna have to change him!

Turns out, we couldn’t wait that long. I smelled the poo before I felt it all over my jeans. Ugh, disposables SUCK.

So, the nice large lady had to stand in the aisle while I used her seat as a changing station. Yes, the entire row got to smell/watch me change a diaper and outfit in under 5 minutes, one-handed, pulling new clothes out of the depths of his diaper bag which was under the seat in front of us. Yes, no one bothered to help, they all just watched me struggle.

But, we made it. The plane landed, and the ladies on either side of me wished us well.

I checked the screen for our flight from Phoenix to Santa Barbara. Thanks to our delay, it had already departed. Even if it had been close, I never would’ve made it, seeing as it was TWO CONCOURSES away.

I hunted down the Customer Service desk. Yes, I’m becoming a pro at re-routing. Why do I even bother thinking that I’m ACTUALLY going to get the flights I was promised? I should just assume that I will spend all day at some airport, trying to get home.

The next flight for SB wasn’t for 3 more hours. Sigh. G was already a crying strung-out mess. I was at my wit’s end, so I bought myself a coffee and a muffin. Then, I settled down into a nice, dark (er) corner of the terminal, swaddled G, and rocked him. When he STILL wouldn’t fall asleep, I put on my nursing cover to try and block some of the light. Brilliant. He finally fell asleep for about 45 minutes.

When it was time to make the 15 min. walk to our terminal, I put a still sleepy and swaddled G back into the Moby Wrap, used the “backpack straps” on our diaper bag (love it!), and made my way on over. We made it to the gate right as they made the first boarding call for passengers with children. We were the FIRST people on the plane. After nearly everyone had boarded, the stewardess came to me and said that there were empty rows in the back, why don’t I go find a different seat? I asked if everyone was done boarding, and she smiled and said, “Close enough!”

Since G was starting to fuss, I got situated in the back of the plane and started to nurse him.

Wouldn’t you know it, and old man walked on the plane and came back to that EXACT seat. “My ticket says you’re sitting in my spot”, he said without any emotion.

I looked around me. Empty rows on either side. “You’ve GOT to be joking,” I thought. Instead, I said, “Well, sir, you’re going to HAVE to wait a moment.” I would’ve added something about how there was a baby attached to me, making it hard to move around, but all of a sudden, he looked a little closer and said, “Wait a minute, is that a young one there? Well, okay, I guess I can sit up here…”

This story has a happy ending. A few minutes later, G was sound asleep in my lap (poor kid, he was operating on about 4 hours-less sleep than usual! Not good for a baby!). A few minutes after that, I was also able to doze and get a little cat-nap in.My brother Joe was waiting for us the minute we landed.


US Airways had NOT lost my bag like last time.

Double Win.

Since I’m not fasting, Joe immediately took me to the nearest In N Out.


Within 2 more hours, we were in the loving arms of our family.

See how much BETTER life is, the moment you get away from planes?


2 thoughts on “Jinxed

  1. yikes! soooo hard and stressful. i know we cant demand people to help us but it just seems so insensitive that it gets me riled up every time. glad your trip turned around!

  2. Aw, Kelly, this makes me so sad (except, of course, for the happy ending part, where you made it safely to your family without any luggage lost!) That diaper incident…ugh, I am so sorry no-one offered to help. I always feel a pang for mothers traveling without their husbands, especially mothers with infants. It’s hard enough to navigate the airport by myself without stress, I can’t imagine the double-anxiety of caring for a little one (or several!) as well. I think you and G did marvelous, all things considered.

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