Leaving for Slovakia

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After saying goodbye to our Slovak friends with a bang and a bit of drama, the day has finally arrived. I was pretty much packed then, but, as always, Arthur was doubting me a little. When Julia woke up he went to change her clothes, and I heard a sneeze. I didn't think much of it, probably allergies, right? Wrong. Yellow snot came out of her nostrils like a big yellow monster each mother fears, especially on a day of travel, and especially on a day when air travel is involved. I was very worried how she was going to handle the pressure changes.

Before we left I decided we should weigh the suitcases because the big one felt really heavy. My suspicion was confirmed, it was 12 pounds over the limit. Great. Julia's suitcase is small, I can't reshuffle stuff sufficiently. We called Arthur's mom and they found a bigger suitcase. I then repacked Julia's suitcase and moved some stuff over with her stuff.

We finally got out of the house at 11ish. The plane wasn't leaving until 3:45 so that's plenty of time. We stopped for lunch, Julia did not eat more than two bites of food. This is when mother's instinct kicks in and a fear of my child starving to death joins the fear of my child being in pain on the plane, accompanied by loud screaming (which really is the least of my worries - I have a kid, get over the screams grumpy people). So I became more and more nervous about the trip.

When we got to the airport, the Lady informed us that one of the suitcases is over the limit on weight but the other one was not and if we moved some stuff over, we would be okay. So, there was I, at the airport, opening suitcases and moving stuff around. Does it really matter this much? I still had the same combined weight. Okay, I guess it does because they had no problem letting me do this while my two year old is running around the airport. Oh joys of traveling.

With about 2 hours remaining before the take-off I decided to cross the security line. You never know how they are going to test the milk or whether they decide to do a patdown. So off we went. We cried, we waved, and I really became nervous. My child is sick and hungry and we are about to board a plane. I called Jana and I went to buy my mom a cinnamon pretzel. I paid for the pretzel and walked away - yes, I left the pretzel there - I must have been really stressed.

I love how they call for pepole to board the plane. It's first and business class first, then people with kids and strollers (me), then by rows from the back of the plane first. As I am standing there with other people with children waiting for the rich people to get in, this old guy from coach is trying to skip ahead of me and other kids and go with the rich people because he said if he waits in line people will use his overhead storage. Well, get a first class ticket or a smaller carry-on dumdum! And quit cutting of people with kids! Rude.

On the plane some reshuffling had to be made. There was a disabled girl with two caregivers and they didn't have them together and they were in the back of the plane. They were switched to the seat in front of us and now I became worried that Julia will bother her (maybe she will kick a seat or scream too much...). Then the flight attendants came to ask me if Julia and I were willing to move back, the same seats but several rows back because a family with 4 kids was separated. I agreed.

Julia fell asleep before dinner was served. She slept well. She woke up when breakfast was served and decided to eat some breakfast. The pressure was not bothering her very much, but the congestion and the snot that goes with that was. She decided to eat two bites of scrambled eggs and then went for the fruit. She took a bite of grape, and the skin got stuck in her throat. She started gagging and all of the sudden she, the tray with her breakfast, her seat, and the back of the seat in front of her was covered with puke. She threw up three times. I was stuck behind a seat of a jerk who took pleasure in eating with his seat down. I managed to get out of there, put my breakfast on the floor, and took dirty Julia out of her seat. Thank goodness Arthur's mom urged me to take extra clothes for Julia, just in case. I waited about 10 minutes for the bathroom, then got her in there and gave her a bath in the airplane sink. When I came back, after at least 20 minutes away from my seat, the puke was still there - I was hoping flight attendants would at least leave a rag for me but I expected too much. So as my sick child is standing next to me, I am crawling behind the jerk's reclined seat trying to get the throw up off Julia's seat. I sat her in her seat and decided I should eat. As I was trying to take the first bite, Julia sneezed and looking for a kleenex I knocked down water spilling it on all the stuff on the floor, including Julia's shoes, her backpack and inside my diaper bag. At this point I gave up trying to eat and I must admit that the exhaustion and everything combined brought tears to my eyes. I did survive though.

At the airport in Amsterdam Julia played with a girl from India and lost several of her colored pencils. I tried to save as many as I could but I couldn't save all so I left before the mom noticed. Oops. When going through the security check, they were kind enough to let me go through the speedy lane because of the stroller. I had three little milk cartons in my diaper bag - two regular milks and one chocolate milk. I was told I could "keep the regular milk because it is for the baby, but not the chocolate milk because it's a drink." At this point I didn't questioitthe ridiculous statement and I hope they enjoyed it. Of course since they mentioned the words "chocolate milk" what does my child do after they take it? She asks for some chocolate milk. So I bought her a bottle for three euros. I buy the big milk that lasts her 2 days for less than that, but what wouldn't I do for my tired and sick child? She took two sips and asked for water. Great waste of 3 euros.

She fell asleep before we boarded, which was nice because, well, she was asleep. However, I knew before boadring that I have not mastered the art of folding a stroller with a purse, diaper bag, lady bug that makes stars and a sleeping child in my arms. I was right. Fortunately, about the 20th person that saw me in the tunnel looking at the stroller trying to hypnotize it into folding realized that I indeed do not possess any telekinetic abilities and he helped me fold the stroller. Julia slept the whole time, in fact, she didn't wake up until we got the the baggage claim. This turned out to be quite inconvenient since as I exited the plane they informed me that I won't be getting the stroller that I gate checked until the baggage claim. What is the point of gate check again? So here I go, sleeping child in one arm, diaper bag, purse, lady bug in the other across the Vienna airport to the baggage claim. By the time we got there I was sweaty and sounded like a Saint Bernard after a 10 mile run in 100 degree heat. Fortunately, Julia woke up when we got there so I could load the luggage and get the stroller, otherwise I would still be standing there waiting for some good person to help me.

Meeting with my parents was interesting - she was so out of it she probably thought she is dreaming about skyping with them. My brother was driving one car and my parents another. Otherwise we wouldn't all fit. We stopped at Aupark shopping center in Bratislava and ate lunch, then had coffee and cake. Julia slept the whole time. She woke up as my dad ate the last bite of his cake. So she only got piskoty. The drive home was okay, she slept, I slept for a few minutes. Quite uneventful. When we got to Banska Bystrica, my brother, Katka (his girlfriend) and I stopped at Tesco to buy diapers. I found Dora pullups! Sweet! We got home and my brother (or Katka?) was making French fries and the deep frier exploded and we lost power in the whole apartment. Dad fixed it fast. I put Julia to bed and we stayed up and watched tv and talked until 1:30 am. I was so happy when I finally hit the pillow 😊

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