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Flying with Children

January 17, 2012 by

I find myself sitting in airport lounge areas frequently. They are mostly the same, though some of the newer airports have upgraded their lounge areas with massage chairs, Wi-Fi, conversation nooks and other things to make the wait not quite so tedious. I don’t care about any of these things; give me a chair close to the boarding area with a view of those who I will be flying with, that is my only requirement. Sounds odd doesn’t it? I have my reasons.

Ill Mannered Imps and their Minders

Scanning the airport lounges allows me to identify the worst of the worst, out-of-control children. These children usually between the ages of four and ten who have failed to learn basic social skills. They scream, throw their toys, demand attention from their parents and strangers. They run through the lounge tripping over carry-on bags and even tripping other travelers as they attempt to navigate the terminal and the lounge. Their voices are akin to nails on blackboards as they screech their demands.

They are not angels. They are not sweet cherubs. They are YARD APES. Their parents often have that faraway look, one seen usually on soldiers returning from war or victims of crime. It is these imps of destruction that can and usually do ruin trips for at least those in their immediate vicinity on a plane. They kick the back of seats; they twist and turn, look over at their neighbors with ugly faces, talk to neighbors unceasingly, throw food and otherwise act in ways that prove children are born horrifyingly unmannered.

Worse than the children though are the parents who fail to take those urchins of the netherworld under control.

One of my favorites –

I had boarded the plane from Brussels to Houston, it’s a long trip but I had upgraded to first class and so I was looking forward to a somewhat pleasant flight. This was long before the time of beds in first class and better food. I was in seat 1A, bulkhead window. Suddenly, oh no my worst nightmare a woman sits down beside me with a small child, small as in approximately 18-months. Her husband takes the seat across the aisle. Thinking I was being kind, I offered him my seat so they could be together during the flight, no they said they had planned it this way so he could work during the flight without being disturbed. What?

The mother plans on holding her child throughout the nine hour flight, in the meantime the child is on the floor playing while the announcement to prepare for take-off is blaring. Flight attendants walk through the aisles not once, not twice but four times telling this mother to pick up her child so we can take off. Each time she does the child shrieks and the mother puts her back on the floor, finally I offer to hold her so she can look out the window, which solves the problem, she doesn’t shriek we take off and all is quiet in first class. Does mom offer to take the child back? Well no, in fact when drink service begins she and dad order drinks and start chatting while their infant calmly stays on my lap. I had to tap her on the shoulder and hand the bad baby back explaining that they made the decision to not buy a seat or bring a nanny with them, they had the responsibility to entertain and keep their child quiet and if it disrupted their travel, tough.

It was a miserable flight! Screaming, diaper changes and other disgusting disruptions (Dad wasn’t bothered though).

This is one of the reasons I firmly believe children under the age of fourteen do not belong in First Class, ever and under any circumstance.

I have many other stories of the misery of travel which I will share from time to time. Some are children in the air. Some are simply horrible airline service. Hope you will join me in my travels around the world.

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Whats Love Got to Do With It?

January 7, 2012 by

The dress is back from the cleaners packed in a box for some future when your daughter will say, “Mom it is so old fashioned I want to pick my own dress”. The pictures framed and scattered throughout your first home. The thank you notes are written to all the kind people who provided you with blenders, toasters and other small appliances you have yet to return or figure out uses for. Your tan is fading and frankly, it is time to return to real life.

You’re married! That ring on your left hand announces to the world you are officially off the market. Do you wear your ring? Does your spouse where his / hers, if not why not?

The strangeness of married life, even for long-term couples takes some adjustments. People may treat you differently now. During the early days of your marriage, you may find yourself resenting some of questions that come your way, such as;

How about joining us for a few beers after work tonight? Why don’t you call your husband / wife to make sure it is okay with them?

What? You’re an adult; you don’t need permission have a couple of beers after work. Think though, is this simple phone call asking permission or is it common courtesy extended to your spouse.

Another thing you may find happening is you aren’t invited to the boys / girls night out events you were once part of. Now that you are part of a married couple, your single friends may not feel comfortable inviting you. Perhaps these events were ‘hunting’ expeditions and now that you are off the market, your presence isn’t as welcome as it once was.

Yes, some of your friends may drop away. Don’t worry you will make other friends. Married friends, you will meet them over time and form new bonds. Some of your single friends of course will remain and as they pair up their new partners will join the elite circle of Married.

So what does love have to do with all of this? Marriage is the choice we make to bond with that one person who makes our heart race and feel at peace all at the same time. Despite our personal idiosyncrasies, despite our flaws we make the choice to live with, fight with, love with this single person for our lifetime.

Love has everything to do with it!

We agreed, even if we didn’t understand how marriage would change us, we knew we wanted to be with this person. We agreed we were going to walk side-by-side for our lifetime, even if we didn’t understand that there would be some unplanned loss of ‘independence’. Love has everything to do with our choice and everything to do with how we conduct ourselves from here forward. Love informs our actions, every day of our married life; whether it is a great day or a bad day love informs our choices and decisions.

While I believe there are always compromises, they are not compromises of self nor are they sacrifices. Love has everything to do with how successful marriages are made and sustained over time. Love of self and love of our partner. Once the bliss of the wedding is behind us the scales fall from our eyes, we discover marriage is hard work. Putting the person we love in front of us as  we make decisions, helps us to make informed decisions that are good for our marriage and prevent us from reverting to the selfish behavior and decision-making of our single life.

Marriage is hard sometimes; Love is Easy.

Filed Under: Love & Marriage Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Tales from the Air

January 3, 2012 by

Farts on the Airplane

There is probably nothing worse than someone with uncontrollable gas in the tight confines of an airplane. Certainly they are embarrassed by their overactive digestive track and their own stupidity at eating foods that would cause their active flatulence.

Let me give some advice. There are some foods that lend themselves to greater amounts of flatulence than others. This is due to the types of sugars they contain, the body CANNOT effectively break these sugars down and thus they produce gas which travels to your nether regions ultimately producing noxious fumes. If you know you will be flying, do yourself and your fellow passengers a favor avoid these foods!

Beans, Cauliflower, Cabbage, Raisins, Milk (especially for those with lactose intolerances) and yes the all-important BEER.

Elbows and other Sharp Objects

I once had a man (not what you are thinking you are so dirty minded) seated next to me in those big comfy First Class Seats. This man must have seen that I was more blessed than the average woman with pair of breasts that might be the envy of a Playboy Centerfold. Perhaps in his fevered fantasy he believed this meant they were public property, since they took more space than was normal. Whatever the case may be, I once had a man and he had a plan.

Our flight to Dallas was looking to be a long one, with plenty of turbulence and stormy skies. I had already taken my seat, 1B aisle bulkhead left side of the plane. When he arrived he first glared at me, as if to say; “what are you doing in this section of the plane?” Admittedly, back then there were few women flying in First during what was considered the Friday specials, business flights back to Dallas on American. Add to this I was already in my standard Jeans, cowboy boots and tee. But then my Man with a Plan noticed my assets and his gears turned. He sat his happy self down, pulled out his Wall Street Journal leaned to the right, taking more than half our ample arm rest as his own, and ordered his Scotch and Soda before take-off. Then the fun begin……….

Turn page one, right hand grabs page turns and shakes landing squarely against the edge of my breast. I think nothing of it. A few minutes go by and time to turn the next page; oddly the exact same action produces the same result. “Excuse me, my breast isn’t public property and your attention isn’t welcome. Would you mind keeping your elbow on your side of the arm rest and your hands to yourself, please”, said as nice as possible and looking directly at the Man with the Plan. He smirked, moved slightly to the left and started reading again. A few more minutes pass (he reads slowly) and the same exact thing happens, fortunately the two gentlemen across the aisle see it this time, so when I turn and tapped him and said, ‘The next time you touch my breast I am going to break your ribs and it will be self-defense’, they concurred. Again he smirked and this time he didn’t move.

Five more minutes, he readies himself for another page turner and a free feel. I ready myself as well, I am watching for him how. He turns the page and this time takes a slow linger down the side of my left breast as if daring me to follow through with my threat. Boy did he challenge the wrong Texas girl, I pulled back my elbow and delivered a blow to his ribs that knocked the wind from his lungs and bent him over in his seat. When he could breathe again the first thing he did is push the call button and when he Flight Attendant arrived he demanded the police meet the plane in Dallas and arrest me for assault. She asked me what had occurred and I explained the situation. She asked the nice gentlemen across the aisle what they had seen and their story agreed with mine. She offered him a choice;

  1. She could have the police meet the plane and he would be arrested. I might be also, but it is likely the charges would be dropped against me.
  2. He could change seats with someone and forget the entire incident assuming I was willing to do so and someone was willing to change seats with him.

He took option two and the rest of the flight was quite pleasant. He called me a Bitch as he was moving his bags, I agreed.

Thus we have two tales of many of my time in the air. Farts on a plane, well that is on-going and frequent. Elbows that is a true story from about ten years ago.

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