Due to sad family events, we flew up to Chicago with the kids over Presidents' Day. As you might imagine, getting twins ready to fly is no small undertaking. We checked 2 bags each, 2 carseats, a pack-n-play, and we carried a backpack and a diaperbag and wheeled the kiddos in a stroller. It turns out that the twinks don't like airports very much. They cried/screamed most of the time we were waiting to get through all the counters and checkpoints and board. You could just feel the pity/hatred coming off the other people waiting for their planes. Thankfully we got to board early since we had the kiddos.
As it turns out, the kids fly rather well. We made sure they had bottles in their mouths during take-off and landing (so as to keep their ears from reacting badly to the pressure changes) and they didn't make much of a peep the rest of the flight. We got in to snowy, freezing Chicago and had to get our 7 pieces of luggage onto a cart. Then Sarah had to wait with the cart and the kids while I took the shuttle to the rental car. During the 40 minutes I was going she changed 8 diapers. Yikes.
So we get the van. And it smells like gasoline. Of course, I didn't realize this until we got to the airport, and had assumed the smell was from all the other running cars at the rental agency. Naturally, they were closed by this time, so we had to live with it.
After getting ourselves lost on the way from the airport, we finally made it to our destination. I went out for a bite, and then we set up the basement for the weekend. One nice side effect of flying is that the kids slept like logs for 4+ hours straight, and then another long stretch after that.
So I took the rental car back and got a new one. Unfortunately, I also left the garage door opener in the gassy van, which they had already re-rented by the time I realized what I had done. Doh. I
did however, have a much better sense of direction on the way back and made it without incident.
To face the chilly weather Sarah's brother and sister-in-law bought the twinks some nice warm outfits, the likes of which are not needed here in Florida.
The kids did have quite a time visiting with family and friends and even strangers. They got to get dressed up, which was rather adorable.
They really did remarkably well during the day, but all the excitement made for some pretty rough nights. They didn't sleep well again.
So let's fast-forward to Monday, the day we were going home. We got all packed up and to the airport by 1:50 for our 3:20 flight, just as we were told. So off we go to our gate. Well, it turns out that our gate is at ground level. It also turns out that they keep opening the doors to the outside, making it quite cold. It was here that we met Kristen and Natalie (who is all of 4 months old) and Barb and her husband. They were supposed to have gone to Fort Walton Beach, but got switched to our Pensacola flight.
Of course, the flight was late. In fact, the gate agent boarded all rows at once to get everyone on. We cut to the front of the line and had Kristen follow us, because people with babies really need to get on the plane while it's relatively empty, because we have lots to situate. Anyway, the guy sitting next to me is Jason, from Wales. It turns out that the seat across the aisle is open, so I offer it to him so he doesn't have to worry about Joseph puking on him. We got on quite well and talked British TV (I'm a very big fan of British TV). So off we go. The babies did great during take-off and we were on our way.
Or so it seemed. About 30 minutes into the flight, the pilot announced that a door seal was becoming detached, that it wasn't a big deal, but that we were going to turn around and get it checked out. We then proceeded to circle O'Hare for an hour. Mind you, in this time we would have just been about to begin our initial descent into Pensacola. Unfortunately, we were back where we started. A pilot was flying with us in the back of the plane and was furious that we were turning around for such a minor thing. None of us were very pleased either.
So we land. Cell phones are whipped out all over the plane as everyone tells their loved ones that they're back in Chicago, and will be delayed. My new Welsh friend calls his cousin on my cell to tell her the news, as his mobile is back in the UK. Then we get the word that we're deplaning. This is less than good news. The news eventually trickles out that they're canceling the flight altogether, and that we won't get out until Tuesday.
If you think this is a fiasco so far you have no idea how miserable American Airlines can make your life.
First of all is the line we have to stand it to work out our situation. We are told by a gate agent on the way off the jetway (we were last, of course, with the twins) that we could go to any agent. So we took off upstairs. That's lie #1, because the gate agent upstairs wouldn't book the flight, and said we needed to use the red phones on the wall for to take care of our issues. That's lie #2. The agent on the red phone said they could reschedule, but we wouldn't receive compensation for food or lodging for the night, and that we had to go back to the original gate. So we go there. We're nearly last in line, but we book a flight to Fort Walton Beach rather than Pensacola, because it was a direct flight and we were
not putting the twins and ourselves through connecting flights. We got $10 each for dinner and $5 each for breakfast and were told we could get our luggage at baggage claim #9 (this, we will soon learn, is lie #3).
Here's where it gets more fun. We arranged to have a friend pick us up the next day in FWB. I called the cousin of Jason (from Wales) who was going to pick him up in Pensacola, and told her he wouldn't be in tonight and that he'd call when he could. We get to claim #9 and wait for our bags. Another Briton called Neil is there waiting for his luggage, as he's been told the same thing we have. After waiting quite a while for the bag with the babies' formula and diapers, Sarah gets fed up and decides to head to the help desk while I wheel the twins around in their stroller, trying to keep them quiet. Neil decides, upon seeing Sarah's determination, that he's going to stick with us. The woman at the counter tells us that, contrary to what the gate agent said ("And they'll lie to you to get you to go away," she confides), if no description of our bag(s) were taken, they're probably still on the tarmac or on their way to Pensacola by themselves. This, of course, is unacceptable, as our babies require special formula and are allergic to most diapers. So Sarah gets a supervisor. She takes a description of our bags and tells us to check back on #9 in 30 minutes and our bag will be there (lie #4).
So we decide to go eat with out vouchers, because by now it's 9 PM, and our hotel restaurants close at 10, so we'd be out of luck. However, we're now on the other side of security, the side
without restaurants. Sarah asks the security guy if we can get in to eat with tomorrow's boarding passes, and is told not without a gate pass, which a ticketing agent can issue (lie #5). So we go to the ticketing agent. She tells us that there is no way we can get back through security tonight, and besides, all the restaurants are closed. We can, however, take a train to the international terminal, which is open all night and has a food court. "But is the food court open all night?" we ask. Yes, she assures us (partial lie #6).
So we get to the international terminal, where the ticketing agent said we'd find McDonald's and Uno's Pizza and many more places. It turns out that two places are open, neither of which she mentioned. So we have a nice meal with Neil and talk British TV and sports and have an enjoyable time. We finish up and head back to the train. The signs say that only one side of the track is running, and the marquee says that train is going to the parking lot. We let it go and wait for the next. It, however, shows up on the other track, and goes in the direction that I
know is the
true direction of the parking lot. When it leaves, I pick up the courtesy phone and ask the train help man which train I should take. He says to take the one on track 1, which is on the other side of the terminal from which I am calling (lie #7). When the next train arrives, it's coming
from the parking lots, and going back toward the terminals, so, contrary to the official advice, we get on (and are correct).
We're now back at baggage claim. I see two of my bags and a car seat being wheeled to the lost-and-found luggage. I grab the bags, leave the seat, and ask where everything else is. "This is everything," he says (lie #8). So we go back to the supervisor. She says her guy got all our stuff he could find (lie #9). We explain, as the kids are screaming, that if our car seats and other bags are here, there is no reason the other bags would be in Pensacola, and that they're probably nearby. So she asks for more descriptions. We want a black, carry-on sized bag, with our name on it. Ten minutes later, a man comes in with my very large black suitcase, and another of our carry-on sized bags that we do not need. I take the black suitcase, send back the small bag, and ask him to please find the one we really need, the one with the baby supplies in it. So off he goes. While he's away the supervisor comments that she can't stand to see the babies so sad. Sarah retorts that if American hadn't lost our luggage, which is clearly not very far away, the babies wouldn't be crying. The woman says she understands, to which Sarah replies, "Unless you have screaming 10 week-old twins at home, I'm sorry, but you
don't understand." The guy comes back empty handed. The only bag they cannot find is the babies' bag. It's now 11:10 PM and the shuttle to our hotel leaves at 11:20. There is nothing more we can do in baggage claim, so off we go.
As it turns out, getting onto the shuttle to the Westin was no mean feat. The wind chill was -15F, so Sarah waited inside with the kids. I had the cart full of bags to load when it arrived. It quickly became clear that a lot of people were going to try to get onto this shuttle. Luckily, because my cart was so large, once I got to the door I was able to block it off and load our stuff, at which point Sarah ran up to me and we got the kids onto the bus.
Here we met a very nice man. Strangely enough, he looked a bit like Sylar, from Heroes, but clean cut. When we arrived at the hotel, he and two other men helped us unload everything. We then queued up to check in. Our mysterious benefactor disappeared for a moment, and suddenly a bellhop was at our side. I think our new friend might have slipped him a bill, because he was asking how many diapers and cribs we needed and stating that he was at our service the entire night. So there are some good people out there. Whoever you are, bless you, kind stranger.
That night the babies slept like stones. Sarah's mom arrived early with diapers, formula, and wipes, so we were set for the flight home. She also brought the heavy winter bags (pictured above) for the babies to wear to the airport, because it's still really cold. We check in, and ask where our gate is, and ask for assurances that it is
not downstairs like the day before, because if it is we're keeping the jackets. "Oh, no. That's an upstairs gate. You'll be nice and warm" (lie #10).
We get to the gate after picking up breakfast ($16 but only a $10 voucher), only to hear that it's been moved downstairs. At this point we run into Kristen and Natalie from before (hard to miss her with the stroller) and we head down together. There are only two seats together, but when we sit down with the twins places suddenly clear up. Soon we're joined by Barb and her husband, also from the night before, as well as Jason, my buddy from Wales. They all ran into Neil at their hotel after we'd had dinner, so it was a reunion celebration. We swapped horror stories about our luggage, meals, etc. Barb helped keep little Joe happy when Sarah had to get some hot water from Starbucks for formula.
We all had a laugh and swapped email addresses. Some of us ended up with our luggage, and some of us didn't. One things for sure, it was an experience we'll never forget, and one it will take American Airlines more than our lifetimes to recover from. I've often heard that our domestic airlines are dying. I'm pretty sure I know why, and I'll be happy to pull the trigger if they have to put it down. Let's get someone in here who can actually do the job right.
