I had set up a play-date for Tuesday at noon at the boys’ favorite park knowing that I would want to distract the boys as much as possible. I wanted to get them out of the house so as not to create new messes, and then get them tired out so that I could clean and pack while they napped. (The Cat will nap every few days, so it isn’t a given, but after a particularly physical day he will crash.)

Alas, my plan backfired in that it was raining Tuesday morning. The boys had already been at my play-date’s house, so it was “my turn” to host. I cheerfully told my friend that she and her son were welcome to spend lunch at our house. I was glad to get the break, but panicked about what that would mean for my cleaning and packing strategy.

The day before, the Cat informed us that his toilet was broken. We had a similar difficulty a few months back that had been helped by a particular bacteria-clog-eating drain de-clogger, so we poured that in the toilet. I had flooded the bathroom flushing the (uh, er, number-two filled) toilet while trying to get the toilet to work, so it took awhile to clean up the mess. Nonetheless, I had cleaned the whole bathroom and then left it to let the magic bacteria do its business. The plan was to flush it the next morning.

As I prepared for the unexpected play-date that next morning, I noticed that there was a slightly damp towel in the bathroom in question. I figured Husband had flushed the toilet and it had overflowed just a tad. I flushed again, hoping that everything would “level out” at this point and we’d be back to status-quo.

Instead, the whole thing flooded again. Big Time. So all the towels I had washed and dried the night before ended up on the floor surrounding the toilet.

But in the grand triage, it was the dishes-filled kitchen and the crumb-infested playroom that were most visible to our guests. So I did my downstairs cleaning duties before attending to the upstairs bathroom.

The next order of business was food. Splig was asleep, so I couldn’t go to the store. The bread that I otherwise would have used to make sandwiches had already been cut funny and for some reason I couldn’t get it to cut straight again, so that was out. Luckily, I found some carrot and zucchini sticks, crackers, and cheese, making a spread of snack-able things. I added some bananas to the mix. But that wasn’t enough. I made up some microwave veggie pockets and cut them in an attempt to look pseudo-fancy.

Luckily, my friend also brought along some food: some rice with black beans, chicken, and onions. It was a perfect thing to scoop up with the crackers! The boys ended up having a fabulous play-date (the Cat was so happy to be the host!), and I really enjoyed hanging out with my friend. Sure, I didn’t get any packing or cleaning done (for the cleaning I did in a rush right before the visitors ended up being for naught since the boys spread cracker-dust all over,) but the break was fine. I did have one freak out moment when I saw a bunch of corn on the table. I recognized too late that my decorative corn for Thanksgiving had been completely shucked and strewn about.

Both boys fell asleep at the end of the play-date, so I got my chance to pack and clean. I didn’t get everything done that I would have liked (such as the play-area in back of the couch,) but I did the vital things!

Wednesday morning, we left for the airport in good time. But traffic was much worse than anticipated. We made a panicked route change that I believe saved us a bunch of time. Thankfully, a delay meant that we didn’t have to rush to get to our gate.

Nonetheless, we were greeted with long lines at the check-in (so went to a sky-cap!) and were jostled around by the security screeners. We were next in line for one screener when he told us that since we had a stroller and since he was doing “double screening” that it would be easiest if we went to the opposite end of the security section to join a different line. A couple minutes later from our new line, we saw the people who had previously been in back of us sail through our original line. It was at least ten minutes more before we were cleared.

But we arrived at the gate with time to spare. Thank goodness for the delay! It gave the Cat the opportunity to view some planes in action, too, which helped.

What we didn’t anticipate was that Splig would be a problem.

Spliggle is a good-natured kid. But he was congested. He squiggled around (like his name) and tried to interact with other people on the plane. It was extremely difficult to hold him down. (We had forgone the car-seat because our earlier experience with the Cat flying had been that the airplane seats position the car-seats way too close to the seat in front such that even a child not intending to kick the seat in front in a malicious way will end up disturbing that person.) While eating, he was fine. But then he wanted to explore and be busy.

Then the ear-popping began, and he started to scream. He could not be pacified. We tried many methods, all to no avail. Finally, he napped for a tiny amount.

We had a layover in Chicago. If our next flight hadn’t have been delayed, we would have missed it. But our new flight was delayed, too.

Unfortunately, our delays ended up being on-the-tarmac delays in addition to the simple boarding-late delays. This meant having to entertain the kids in an enclosed space for even longer amounts of time. It also meant that we didn’t have time to procure food during our layover. The kids had crackers and such, but Husband and I were ravenous (and of course the plane didn’t have any food other than pretzels.)

When we lined up to board our second delayed flight, one guy said, “Yeah, I’ll let you board first because you have kids.” I thought he was being nice, so smiled and thanked him. He then repeated himself, amending his statement to “because you have the nerve to bring kids on an airplane.” I just continued to board. Husband later told me that this guy (who shall henceforth be referred to as “AM” for “asshole-man”) had been on our San Francisco to Chicago flight, so had been witness to Spliggle’s screams.

AM sat in front of us. In specific, he sat in front of Spliggle’s seat. Crazy Couple sat in the other two seats in front of the Cat and me. Also in row 13 were old-childless-man and younger-glare-boy.

In Aisle 15 was I-will-kick-your-seats-because-I-dislike-you man and aloof-woman.

Spliggle squiggled around and tried to flirt with Aisle 15. I yanked him down and tried to distract him with chips, a blanket, a book, a DVD… anything. He sprang up, holding the top of AM’s seat, then patting AM on the head.

I was mortified and immediately said, “I am SO sorry” and held Splig down again. He screamed, “OH JESUS!” and another person apparently said something about needing peace and quiet, to which the Cat parroted, “I AM being peace and quiet!”

The whole flight was hell.

Spliggle screamed for most of the flight. Glare-boy kept glaring at the Cat (who was simply watching a video, doing absolutely nothing of remark) and more specifically, ME, because I am the mother of the loud noise. Husband held him tightly several seats down from AM (since there is NO way we were going to risk his wrath again!) But since Husband was sitting next to two people, it was difficult to keep Splig from kicking those people in his row. All of row 13 was hostile, as were the people in back of me in row 15.

Husband did a heroic job of keeping Spliggle from causing physical kicking/jostling of other passengers, but unfortunately the screams could not be stopped.

It was mortifying, humiliating, and frustrating.

I have been in airplanes with screaming kids before. At the least, I have looked over to see what the problem was. Since I’ve had kids, I’ve made an effort to either smile at the child or give a sympathetic look to the parent.

I have not glared at a screaming child. I have not made loud comments. I have not sworn. I have not made histrionic physical gestures to indicate my disapproval.

Rows 13 and 15 did all of the above. They were guilt-tripping the hell out of me and Husband. We were doing the best we could. We are not evil. Our kids are not evil. Rather, we had a very well behaved 4.5 year old (who held my hand during take-off and landing, asked many questions, and articulately talked through his fears) and a congested sixteen month old.

Yes, the screams were hell. Spliggle’s discomfort became many other passengers’ discomfort. But we were not taking a red-eye flight. We had set up our schedule in what we thought would be the best configuration.

A little boy in the back of the plane also had difficulty. I could hear his screams, but they were somewhat muted. The typical airplane noise is so loud that other noises become muted. So I know that probably only a third to a half of the plane heard the screams to the ear-piercing extent to which Splig was doling them out. Still, it was as though I was hitting everyone in the plane on purpose.

Old-childless-man called his wife on his cell, loudly recounting that an inconsiderate family had brought a screaming baby on the plane. The male of Crazy Couple kept turning around to glare at Splig and me. The female of Crazy Couple kept throwing her head in her lap. AM sighed loudly every few minutes.

When we landed, we were delayed on the tarmac because the jetway wouldn’t operate properly. We had to wait for an old-fashioned staircase to be wheeled up. Several passengers yelled things like, “This is icing on the cake!” “We’ve already had the plane-ride from hell!” and so forth, while taking the time to stare us down.

Sure, I agree with them. Spliggle’s screams were absolutely not fun. The delays were not fun. But we had not forcefully caused our child to scream. We were not sitting back doing nothing. It was obvious that we had our hands full and that we were pulling out toys, food, milk, and other distractions.

We let the others deplane before we gathered our belongings. A couple people gave us advice on what we should have tried. When we got down the jetway we had to go back upstairs, but there was no elevator. I had to lug Spliggle in his stroller up the staircase while Husband carried three large carry-ons. It was not fun.

While Husband picked up the rental car, someone passed by me and made a comment while sneering at me, but I was checking my voicemail (because another friend and fellow Convention-goer also had been delayed) so didn’t hear his remark.

Hopefully, we will see none of those people again in our lives. We have given them a great story about the plane ride from hell and possibly have made some decide (Crazy Couple, in particular) that they don’t want to have children. Husband says that we’ve done humanity a favor if that is the case. Still, it was embarrassing. I would like to think that I wouldn’t have been so overtly angry, insulting, and heartless as those who chose to guilt-trip me. But I know that my child was loud!

Splig will be pumped full of decongestant / anti-histamine on the way home.

But thank goodness that the Cat did a spectacular job of conquering his fears!

We got lost from the airport to the hotel. Ugh. (GPS to the rescue!) And then by the time we arrived, room service had just closed. Husband and I were ravenous. The only thing around was Wendy's. And I didn't realize they put mayo on their burgers. I HATE MAYO.

But today was much better: friends, drink, fabulous food, great conversation, and the boys love spending time with their grandparents!