My travel day

Here is a look back at our travel day: Saturday

My mission:

• Depart hotel at 5am via Base shuttle
• Fly 1.5 hours to Istanbul, Turkey
• Pass time during 2.5 hour layover in Istanbul
• Fly 4.5 hours to Lisbon, Portugal
• Pass time during 4.5 hour layover in Lisbon
• Fly 2.5 hours to the island of Terciera
• Meet my “welcome party”

When I look back, I realize that telling JB when we landed on the island that this had been “the worst day of my life” was not accurate. In fact, the day went relatively smoothly until the last flight.

Sure there were glitches. I mean, I’m flying with a 3 year old and a 10 month old by myself? What do I expect?

And by glitches I mean things like:

• In Lisbon, getting all situated at a food court, DVD player charging, Abigail eating, my stuff spread out to “rework” my carry-on and diaper bag and having Elijah inform me, in no uncertain terms that he must go poopy. Immediately. Less than ideal.
• The DVD player I bought from a gal on Base before we left for $25 (after our own DVD player kicked the bucket a few weeks ago) had a lot less battery reserve than she said it did. Not only did it run out quickly on each of the three flights (maybe 1.5 hours), but recharging it was difficult. You can’t watch a movie while it is recharging. And the cord does not fit in well to the converter I had to plug it into for the European plugs.

But by far, the two biggest complications I faced could be placed into two main categories. The first being Abigail’s age and the second being Elijah and urination.

Abigail

I have always said that travelling with children should be avoided between the point of a child getting mobile and the point of them being able to accept bribes. Or to say it a different way, between the ages of about 8 months and 2 years old (depending on the child.)

I also think that when a child no longer falls asleep “on-the-go” complications will ensue. Small babies can sleep anywhere. Older children can avoid sleeping or figure out a way to get comfortable. But children in that 8 month to 2 year window need sleep and don’t know what to do when the bed they sleep in everyday is no longer available.

Abigail is a nearly-walker. But the fact is, that word nearly holds an incredible amount of power when it comes to travelling. She is not a walker. This means that while in the airport, I had three options. In the stroller, in the Bjorn, or in my arms. That’s it. That’s all there is.

Or is it?

The Bjorn and stroller were acceptable options for small periods of time or while moving. Otherwise, they were not heralded whatsoever by the darling Abigail. I can only hold the child for so long before my arms hurt or I need to put her down to do something else.

So I exercised my right to create a new option – a fourth option.  That fourth option being, let said-child crawl anywhere she wants. Let her get filthy. And follow her.  And that’s exactly what I did. And once the period of crawling in the airport was over as we prepared to board, wipe her down with a wipe, change her clothes, and start over.

But on the plane, option four was not an option. Abigail did not want to be in her car seat at all. This is probably because she hasn’t used the seat much at all in the last two months. Once we shipped our car out, we didn’t really go anywhere by vehicle. So during the flights, she mostly screamed. Add to that the fact that she couldn’t fall asleep, and the screaming was even worse. 

In our entire travelling day, which was nearly 24 hours, our dear one slept only 90 minutes. That’s three, 30 minute naps. Take it from me. This does not create a happy child.

In addition, when I did take her out and hold her, all she wanted was down. Or she wanted to crawl up my stomach and talk to the people behind us. She didn’t want to sit with me. At all.

On the last flight, the attendant informed me that Abigail could not ride in her car seat during take-off and landing. For some reason what was acceptable on my two Turkish Airline flights was not acceptable on Portugal Air. So I had to buckle her on my lap with one of those special child seatbelts even though she had a car seat next to me that she could sit in.

This was a nightmare. She did not want to sit on my lap at all. But I had to buckle her in. So she screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

Elijah

On flight three, while Abigail was screaming, Elijah was having his own issues.  There was terrible turbulence on the plane, and they were not allowing us out of our seats. I had brought two changes of clothes for Eli. We used the first pair of shorts in Lisbon when he didn’t pull his pants down properly in the bathroom and got pee all over them. But I had another pair and we only had one more flight. No problem.

However now, here he was, sobbing that he had to use the bathroom. Abigail is in her car seat on the other side of me, screaming. And Elijah is on the aisle, sobbing. We were two rows from the back so I turned around, caught the attendant’s eye, and asked him if we could please let my little boy use the bathroom.

We could not. He said we had to remain seated.

I was brainstorming, thinking about getting something out for Elijah to pee in when an older woman behind me gave me the prompt I needed. “Let him pee in a bottle,” she said. And her words provided me with the courage I needed.

I found a mini juice bottle that I had just finished drinking from on the floor, waiting to be picked up by the attendants and thrown away. I explained to Eiljah what we were going to do, loosened his seat belt, and had him lean forward.

First Elijah said, “This is funny, Mommy,” but then Mommy realized that funny had nothing to do with it. He was quickly filling up the small bottle. I started asking him to stop peeing, but he did not know how or could not get himself to do that. He just kept peeing. The pee went all over the chair in front of us, the floor, and his pants and underwear. Thankfully, I don’t think anyone really saw what happened as I was being discreet, but by this time, I was falling apart.

His last change of clothes was in the small carry-on I had put in the overhead bin. Not caring what the attendant said, I stood up and grabbed it out. We were out of underwear, but we had a pair of pajama shorts that he could wear. He slipped those on and promptly curled up and fell asleep.

The turbulence dissipated for a bit while Elijah was sleeping. But Abigail’s screaming did not. She wanted out. I would try taking her out. And she’d just try to climb down or up me until I was exhausted. Then I’d put her back in her chair and attempt to get her to fall asleep. She was so tired but just wouldn’t give in. So mostly she screamed.

An hour later, the turbulence returned. The female flight attendant came over and told me that sleeping Eiljah would have to move his feet – which were slightly hanging into the aisle. And by slightly, I mean slightly. So slightly, I couldn’t even tell that they were in the aisle. I moved his feet and … yes, Elijah woke up.

He was in his confused-sleep-state which is quite common for him when he is jarred awake, and he was telling me how badly he had to go to the bathroom again. Of course. Now. Now that everyone was stuck in their seats again. This was very bad turbulence – probably one of the worst bouts of  turbulence I had ever experienced. So I understood why we couldn’t get up, but as he continued to scream and cry that he had to go the bathroom, and Abigail cried on the other side of me without ceasing, I started crying. Not a lot. But quite a few tears that only I knew about.

I found another bottle, this time a water bottle which was bigger. I started to loosen his seatbelt so he could lean forward to pee when the female attendant joined us. She asked me why he wasn’t in his seat. “Ma’am,” I said. “He’s going to pee his pants. Is there any way he can stand up to pee or we could go to the restroom?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m really sorry. But he has to remain sitting.”

I gave up. We tried to have him pee from a sitting down position. He got pee all over his pants again. His last pair of shorts. I didn’t have any others. At this point, I was cooked. Completely. I had nothing left. Especially when I watched another grown man go into the bathroom with neither of the attendants stopping him! Seriously? A grown man? Surely he could hold it.

So all that to say, this is the state JB found me in when I emerged from our third and final flight nearly twenty hours after it all began. Elijah went running to Daddy. Then he turned and hugged his brother.

“What is he wearing?” JB asked catching a glance of Elijah’s blue striped pajama shorts and colored plaid dress shirt.

“Don’t ask,” I sighed.

Nick and Kristy were there to greet us with their nearly-four-year-old son, Noah. Their other son Jonah is 18 months old. There were also some people from the medical group there to help as well. We needed four vehicles to get Scrubs, his kennel, five people, and all of our stuff to our new house.

And our house. Oh man … when I saw that place, it might have been the best day of my life.

But I’ll write about that in my next post.