The Twinkies

We checked 4 bags. We carried the car seats, two diaper bags (later consolidated into one), a purse and the babies. We brought a single stroller and a wrap. Have I ever told you that I am insane?

I discovered a major difference between New England and the South. In New England people watch you struggle with all that stuff. In the South they offer to help. However, all in all it wasn’t bad. We survived with sanity intact and with very few tears. We did follow Emmie’s advice at Better Make it a Double (which should be required reading for twin mothers flying with kids) on “cuting them up” and I made sure they looked matching and adorable for every flight. (She has more tips here.)

I did learn a number of things about how to make this easier next time. Next time I will use the double stroller. Sure, it is expensive and I will live in fear of the baggage handlers jumping up and down on it in vengeful glee, but being able to push both babies without the back strain carrying one created will be worth the fear.

Next time I will schedule the flights so I don’t have to get the babies up in the wee hours of the morning. Someone actually asked us, as we stood in line at 4:25 AM to check our bags, whether the babies were going on the plane. No, lady, we got them up and brought them to the airport for kicks, because we’re just that nutty.

I think direct flights might be worth the extra money.

I am still undecided on whether the joy of being able to put the babies in car seats on the plane was worth the agony of hauling the seats through the airports, though apparently there are carrying devices designed to make this easier. Actually paying for infants to have seats, rather than holding them up your lap, must be a bit odd. One TSA guy asked why we had four boarding passes. Well, because we have four passengers. “Usually,” he said, “they just write ‘infant in arms’ on the parents’ pass.” “Yes,” I said, “but they aren’t in arms. They have paid seats.” Pause. “Oh.”

In each airport we spread a blanket out on the floor, pinned the kids in with car seats, bags and the stroller and let them play. I think this helped their moods tremendously. I mean, would YOU want to sit in a car seat or stroller all day and never get to strech your legs?

Airports are very spotty in what they notice or care about. One gate agent got into a tizzy and told us we couldn’t use our car seats because they weren’t FAA approved. I pointed out that they were, and when he found the labeling on the bucket part of the two part Graco seat, in which one part snaps out so you can carry it around by the handle, he told me we could use the bucket part but not the base, which would be the part that actually straps in. Yes, because that would be so safe. No other gate agent or stewardess ever cared about the seats at all. The last security agent who screened us noticed that my driver’s license was expired, making it an invalid form of ID. No one else had ever caught that, including me. Ooops. J. had a convenient meltdown and she gave me the twin pity vote, told me I had my hands full and waved us through. In general, I noticed that security screeners were much nicer to me than they ever have been before. I must have looked like a frazzled, novice traveler rather than a child of divorce whose parents lived on opposite coasts, which is to say a very experienced air traveler. Of course, flying with children is a whole new experience. Not wholly bad, but not as good as a massage.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 28th, 2007 at 3:26 pm and is filed under From The Trenches. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.