Exodus, Part Eins

It was my intent, during the time J was in Albuquerque, to fully update the blog. This self-assigned tasker fell to the wayside as J and I finalized move plans and made the most of visiting family we were fortunate enough to see prior to our flight across the pond. In the very near future (honest), I plan to post pictures of our visit to Disney with J’s parents and our time in Georgia, including visits with family and friends.

The exodus the kiddos and I endured to reunite with Daddy in New Jersey was initially onerous and eventually turned comical with the aid of hindsight. After a nice send off breakfast with Grandma and Grandpa, the kiddos and I arrived at the Atlanta airport with just enough buffering time to clear security. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 1330 but was delayed for two hours; as a result, the kiddos and I became well acquainted with all diversions that the airport had to offer. Still feeling sanguine after boarding began, I situated the kiddos and myself in our seats only to be told that we would be stationary on the tarmac for a time.

As I did my best to entertain the kiddos on the tarmac, a dense mist began to disperse throughout the entire cabin causing a chill and general discomfort (especially noticeable in littlest as she was recovering from bronchitis). After water began dripping on to passengers from the crevices between the overhead and side panels, a member of the flight crew made an announcement over the intercom stating that the condensation and mist would not cause harm and was a result of a newly installed recycled air system. The experience was akin to being in an enclosed mister like those you typically find at outdoor venues like zoos. Crew members circulated through the aisles with paper napkins so that the crevices could be effectively stuffed and sealed. The napkins soon became saturated and several passengers began using the safety information pamphlets as a remedy. The pamphlets appeared to do a better job of fending off the drips and mist as opposed to the less durable napkins which became a nuisance as they plopped onto passenger’s heads and laps like a sort of oversized spitball airlift. I found this particularly comical in spite of the fact that I’m sure the pamphlets posed some sort of electrical or fire hazard. Matty and Log were most impressed that ‘it rained on our plane.’

Water situation in check, the plane queued for take-off. As we assumed the third in line for take-off position, the captain announced that another pilot had noticed something suspect on the tail of our plane. This observation mandated that our plane be inspected in a maintenance bay, which had the snowball effect of a missed take-off and further delays. The captain did his best to assure the passengers that pilots are often unfamiliar with aircrafts not flown by themselves and that there was most likely nothing with which to be concerned. As the kiddos and I were in the back row, I was grateful for a last minute inspection of the tail: after all, it was RAINING in the cabin.

Tail cleared of any impediment, the captain had the unfortunate duty of informing us that all take-offs for Newark had been cancelled. This was not acceptable to a plane of mostly native New Yorkers. New Yorkers honk and gesticulate if you fail to accelerate quickly enough after a light turns green, so you can imagine the reaction after being told the flight was canceled. My children were audience to some colorful expressions that I hope they never repeat in public. Sensing a mutiny, the captain recanted and stated that the airline was requesting an exemption, which could take as long as an hour. Happy feeling gone. An already undesirable situation ameliorated further. The insanity other passengers suspected me of possessing (I was traveling solo with four kiddos in tow) was brought to bear as tears welled up in my eyes: a canceled flight meant an overnight stay and two flights on Sunday one of which would be international. I had endured nearly four hours of Matty incessantly asking if our plane was going to Russia or if we were flying, picking up dropped crayons and marker lids, keeping the peace between Bop and Log as they fought over a hand-held video game (surely the invention of the devil himself), and warding off the constant cries of, “Mama, I’m hungry.” I was out of snacks, tricks and patience. At the moment when I began to feel a bit of an inner New Yorker well up in me, the captain announced in a relieved tone that our take-off had been approved.

The flight went well enough considering the delays, precipitation and frustration. After landing, the pilot announced that another plane was boarding at our intended arrival gate and that another 15 minutes on the plane would be required; what on earth had I done to offend the heavens? I think I know how the grandparents would answer that question ;)

I have never been so delighted to see J’s smiling face. Instantly, the day’s events became unimportant and irrelevant. Our fractured family was finally reunited and ready to embark on this new chapter in our lives: Germany!