Let me start over…

On that last post, I mentioned that some of us are not happy to be back here. I do not fall under that category. Even though the weather was 10 degrees when we got back, and even though it only warmed up to a balmy 25 that day, there was snow on the ground, and it looked beautiful. Hawaii was also beautiful, but not home.

Ever go to do something, and the stuff you have to get through in order to do that thing is so demanding and time consuming and there are bad things happening at every turn that you begin to think that maybe the thing you’re trying to get to do just isn’t worth it? That’s how the trip started. I think in spite of all the nice things that occurred on the vacation, they were all tainted with the bad bad things that happened during the getting there part, which made them somehow not as good. Does that make any sense?

I was so stressed out about the whole “Will I get my knitting needles through security?” thing, and then there’s the fact that I really really don’t like to fly. The night before the trip, hubby was thinking, which usually ends up bad, but he was concerned about our flight #1, from KC up to Minneapolis, and only having an hour layover up there before catching the plane to Hawaii, and decided to spend the extra $$ and change it to an earlier flight. So, instead of the plane leaving at 9, it was going to leave at 6. Small price to pay for peace of mind. So, we left the house at like 4, go to the airport in plenty of time, no rushing involved, got through security with no problems, got a little breakfast (David had packed baggies of cereal and craisens), and listed to the announcement saying that the 9:00 flight was not going to be leaving now until 11:00. Good thing we switched. Took my dramamine and got on the plane. Honestly don’t remember much about that flight. Got to the Minneapolis airport, and went straight to the World Club, which is great for business travelers, which is usually what hubby is. Not so great for kids, who have been cooped up on a plane for 2 hours, and now have to sit and be quiet somewhere else while we wait for my sister and her hubby to show. The club did have a fairly nice spread for breakfast though. Several Special K bars accidentally fell in my yarn bag for later. Sis and hubby got there, and they wanted “real” food…translation…meat. They went next door to Chili’s and waited and waited and waited. By the time they got anything, it was time to get on the big plane to Hawaii. That was a mad rush. Hubby’s used to saying, “OK, it’s time to go” and then getting up and going. I had to remind him that the kids needed to put their stuff back away that they had taken out to play with, and we had wrappers to throw away, and people had to go potty, etc. So, we missed the pre-boarding for the people with small children, dang it. Somehow in the “hurry up and take your seats” part, Hubby sat down with David, the oldest, and I had the 2 youngest. That didn’t work. At least not for me. The whole point of us all flying out there together was that sis and her hubby were supposed to be helping us with the kids. So, how come I get stuck with the 2 that required the most attention? David and Hubby immediately put on their headphones and started up their movies. Sis went to sleep. I don’t remember what her hubby did. I alternated between trying to play with yarn and starting and stopping movies for the other 2 and getting their bags because they already read that book already. After what seemed like 10 hours, but was probably only 3, hubby woke up and thought to check on me. I don’t know if I looked that pitiful, or if the daggers I was shooting out of my eyeballs found a target, or maybe it was the tone of voice when I asked if he enjoyed his movie, but something worked, and he switched. The rest of the time on the plane I spend feeling like crap but at least I didn’t have to deal with the little 2.

We must have gotten one heck of a headwind, because we got into Hawaii very late. We still had to go down to baggage claim and get the luggage and then go over to the other terminal and check them in again, and then go through security again, and then hopefully get the flight that was going to be leaving like in an hour. The kids were all bouncing off the walls, and the bags were taking forever, and the only good part about that was when someone came by to return one of those cart things, and he/she (I can’t remember!) thought to ask me if I’d be needing one. Gotta love freebies. We ended up using 2. I don’t remember which point I started really panicking and crying. I think it wasn’t until we got all the bags and got upstairs and couldn’t find Hubby, he had run ahead to start the re-checking of the bags that we all had. We got them all checked, that was when I started crying I think. During the waiting part of all that. And Hubby is all “Well, NEXT time we come here, I’ll know that I have to check the bags all the way through.” I told him through tears that there would never be a next time because I was never doing this again. I would get on a plane to come back home and then never again. I told him I would not again go anywhere I could not drive or walk to. I hate airports, I hate the lines, I hate security where you have to take off your 5 year old’s shoes so they can make sure your kindergardener isn’t smuggling on bombs or knives. I hate the teeny seats on airplanes. I hate snotty flight attendants (disclaimer… not all of them were snotty. We actually had some that were very very nice). I hate the way dramamine makes me feel, but I hate even more how I feel if I don’t take it. I hate having to start planning what to pack a week ahead of time. I hate that I have to pack for me and 3 other people, and then the night before we leave, Hubby asks “Oh, what about the cats?” I hate feeling like everything is left to me to do, because planning ahead is just not his strong point, and if left to him, we’d be going to Walmart after we get to anywhere to go and buy everything that it never occurred to him to pack. He can pack for him just fine. Which he did on Friday night. It took him about an hour. I hate that too. And all that came to a head there at the Hawaii airport. It was looking very much like we were going to miss the plane over to Kauai. There would be another one after that, but we didn’t know if it was full or not, and anyway, we’d need 5 if just for us, 7 to include sis and hubby. They decided to split up and see if they’d be able to get through faster and maybe make the flight. They did. We did not.

That’s when I totally lost it. I was literally bawling and hyperventilating at the gate. They closed the doors at least 5 minutes early. I was so upset at the whole thing. At some point I got myself under control and found out that Hubby had left to try to get us on the later flight. Turns out that they had over-booked the even later flight, so they were making announcements every 5 seconds asking for volunteers to move up. We were getting more and more worried that there wouldn’t be room for us or that they’d split us up or something. Then finally, the guy said very rudely, “I’ve been calling for you guys for like 10 minutes.” No he hadn’t, because we were there the whole time. Jerk. Then I was rude back to them, and then the boys went running down the jetway and I yelled at them to walk, and the Hawaiian airlines people thought I was yelling at them or something, and threatened to have security remove me, and Hubby was pleading with them, and pleading with me, and I was telling him I was yelling at the kids, who by the way had now disappeared. We finally got on the plane and got to Kauai and sis and hubby had already gotten most of our luggage and we got the car and got to the resort.

Think about this. Can any vacation that starts out this way really be that good? I even censored some of it out.


1 Response to “Let me start over…”

  1. 1 Meredith January 22, 2008 at 3:46 pm

    Oh no! I’m sorry to hear the flight there was such a horrible experience. I don’t think there’s a worse place than airports to cry, either. You feel horrible (clearly, if you felt fine, you wouldn’t be crying), you feel worse for losing it in public and making other people uncomfortable (at least that’s how I feel), and then you feel even worse because you feel like everyone’s staring at you and muttering under their breath about the crazy lady. People really should be more sympathetic in airports and on planes… I can understand, though, how that would taint the whole trip.

    At least your kids ran down the jetway to the right plane. I one time saw a woman traveling with her son (I’d guess he was about 3), and he took off down the jetway for the wrong flight. The gate attendants were rather upset by this, and to make things more complicated, the woman and her son were German; I don’t think he spoke any English, and hers was a little slow and accented. In the end, though, the boy was retrieved and his mom explained to him that that was the wrong plane and that they had to wait for a different plane.

    At least now you’re back to the normal stresses of everyday life. We’re glad to have you back. 🙂

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January 2008
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