Watcha Gonna Get

I remember lying awake one night shortly after my 21st birthday thinking that the whole world was about to open itself to me, that I was on the threshold of something big and wonderful to come.

And life did look like that immense box of chocolates right then -- with all the dark ones daintily arranged in concentric circles around a middle of deliciously puffed white truffles. Every choice an exquisite surprise. Pick me, pick me and you shall have a life of fun and excitement: 'pick me and your life will take you to the top, pick me and life will take you places you never knew existed", they seemed to whisper.

As I am writing these lines, it’s the night before the early morning departure into the skies of airline travel. Fun is in the air and the excitement is rising as I am chasing my young ones around to get them dressed in stretch pants and T-shirts – the first layer of what they will be wearing on tomorrow’s trip. It’s my way of cutting down on early morning break-downs. Afterall, we are expected to line up at the check-in counter at 4:45 am for the post nine-eleven three hour pre-boarding marathon. Not an easy deed with three sleep-drunk kids.

All this started precisely 330 days ago, when I successfully wrung five mileage award tickets out of the gnarly claws of an airline sales rep. To save my family overnight stays in overprized inconspicuous airport hotels – and the baby from traveling by himself, I had to fight my way up to the top of customer servicelandia. It was a heroic battle, which I eventually emerged from successfully.

There are certain undertows of airline travel with small children that one must be keenly aware of or chaos is certain to ensue. So, I plan.

I sketch out a well-measured count-down schedule that extends over weeks. No last-minute frenzied rushes to the embassy over an expired passport. No heart attacks over forgotten life-saving baby items. I even have a ‘Last Things to Remember’ list which I ususally get to sometime after midnight.

Throughout my career as a mom I have acquired some surprising skills, one of which is master packer: I can fold, stack, bolster, and squeeze an amazing number of items into suitcases, bags, and carry-ons without ever exceeding either weight or size limitations. WOOHOO !!

I generally try to limit myself to two suitcases for all of us. The reason for that is that our belongings and we still have to fit into a mid-size sedan. An important detail not to be overlooked.

There are always, however, as few extra items. Some will find a place in one of the six small and medium size backpacks, shoulder bags, and pouches. But then there are also the ubiquitous umbrella stroller and inevitable infant car-seat and toddler booster.

I really should ask for a pay raise. After all, our framily's sanity depends entirely on my diligently honed ‘mother instincts .’ And, believe me, it took years of harsh and unforgiving training to get to where I am.

In no time I locate games, coloring books, crayons, DVD player and favorite movies, charger, chewing gum, snacks, half-empty water bottles, toys, baby jars, plastic spoons, disposable bibs, diapers, wipes – lots of wipes – books, and extra T-shirts for everyone in the almost certain event of spilled apple-juice. I even remember to grab a handfull of zip lock bags in several sizes for storage, garbage, and any kind of bodily refuse.

At last, I place all of this and and a supply of pain killers in the designated place. In my mind, I retain a mental map of everything that goes in so I can swiftly extricated any item anytime during the crowded flight. I am done.

As I am sitting here in this mess of what has become my life, my legs and feet in a tingly state of numbness, I suddenly crave chocolate. Lots of it – but these days I prefer chocolate bars to boxes of chocolate. At least you know what you gonna get.