My Terror at 30,000 Feet

Well, since I’m sick and whacked out from the jet lag (can’t sleep past 2 AM), I thought I would share our journey home. If this continues, I might just have all of our stories from the last few weeks completed as well. ;-) Hope you enjoy this and sorry it is so long.


Actually the terror hit before we got on the plane, but I will explain that later. It is SO GOOD to be back in the BEST country in the entire world. These past few months really brought true insight on how good we Americans have it. We have our issues, our problems, but overall this is a wonderful place to be. OK, I will get off of my soap box with the American flag waving behind me and the national anthem playing off in the distance. Our trip home was a rough one…. Let me explain.

Our main concern the last few days before leaving was how many bags will it take to bring all of our stuff home including the cost for those additional bags. Even after weeding through items we felt we could leave behind (three boxes full), the grand total of checked bags came to 13! Grand total of all our bags – 17 plus three hats and three neck pillows. We have Mason to thank for bringing the hats home. We told him it was his sole responsibility to keep up with those hats, and he sure did. He actually wore all three on his head. Sure wish I had a photo of it, but it was too chaotic to snap any shots.

Boy did we get some serious looks as the original Womack train of luggage rolled down the line waiting to check our bags. Poor Morgan had to be careful not be hit from behind. Mason couldn’t even see where he was the going due to the bags stacked up so high. The line was long. There had to be at least 50 or more people in front of us. About half way through the line we heard one of the Qantas attendants say “Your bag is too heavy. It’s two kilos over. I can not check it in unless you unload it.” I looked at Scott. Scott looked at me. We both looked at our three carts full of luggage. I said a little prayer. “Please Lord, could we not get the luggage Nazi?” I could imagine her saying to us, “No Room for You! Back in Line!” in the soup Nazi’s voice. Before I knew it, I was next in line. To my left is the family frantically rearranging their clothing so their luggage meets weight requirements… but they are almost done. To my left, two women are already check in, but are chatting with the Qantas rep. You would have thought I was watching a tennis match waiting for which counter to open up first. Then I heard “Next”… and the sound was coming from the right – Yeah!!!

We explained to the man behind the counter about our visa, and we were returning home. It wasn’t a problem at all. Since we were moving back, we were not charged for any of the extra bags. And only one bag came up over the weight limit… by .6 kilos. He didn’t even make us fix it. At that point my main concerns were diminished. After the passport fiasco, I had that all covered. They were safe and sound zipped up in my carry on. The excess luggage dilemma was over. I took the kids aside and away from the bags. Morgan was already sick at this point. Mason was just showing signs of coughing. They were in sibling fight mode, so I was busy refereeing. Then I heard the sentence that would change my stress level for the next 14 hours. “Where is the other bag, Stef?” “What bag?” I replied. And as I look over to the counter, I see the Qantas guy holding up one lone baggage tag. Some how we had lost a bag and we not even on the plane yet. The rep said he would check to see if any untagged bags made it down to the loading guys. He would text Scott with the info. He also mentioned of the possibility that the man checking in to the right of us may have pick it up by accident. With no time to spare, we had to accept the current situation.

Right before we boarded the plane, Scott got the text message. No untagged bags found. My heart sunk. Normally we place luggage tags with our contact info, but this was the one time we did not. It started to hit me that we may never see this bag again. But which bag? What would we have lost? It wasn’t about the “stuff”, but more about the memories, about the kids’ losing their stuffed kangaroos, or their special blanket. I dwelt on this, cried over this for the entire trip. We chose Qantas because it is the only airline that has entertainment consoles for every seat including economy. I couldn’t wait to start watching some movies to get my mind off of our missing bag as well as have a break from the motley sick crew. We decided to set up the kids’ movie first simultaneously. I had Morgan’s up and running, but that was all. Mason’s consol was broken. It was a full flight. We were stuck. I spent the rest of the flight in the middle of two sick kids with no entertainment. No one slept. It was my terror at 30,000 feet.

To touch down in LA was such a relief. Not just that the flight was over, but we were on American soil. But our adventure was not over yet. Over the PA system they announce for everyone to retrieve ALL of their bags for customs. We had only an hour and 45 minutes to board our next plane, a direct flight home. If we miss it we would have to connect through Dallas. Game On! OK, honestly, I turned to Scott and said “We are not going to make it.” Game on comes later. Just as our passports were being checked, we hear over the intercom, “Scott Womack, please check with an American Airlines representative.” Low and behold the Qantas guy had put one of our bags through without a tag, and they found it. It would be delivered the next day. Remember “Game On”? This was that moment. Our bags come out last. But an AA luggage handler came right over without us even asking and took over. He took our three carts while we went through yet another line. Then he took the bags over to be checked back on the plane. OK, next obstacle – the massive line to go back through security to get on the plane. This part is not pretty.

Apparently the AC unit was not working in the LA airport. It was hot, humid, a bit smelly, but quite frankly I’m sure we were the cause of that odor. We were zombies at this point. Morgan announced to the world that she did not like her brother. (Funny what kids will say when they are out of it.) Both kids were real troopers. With thirty minutes left it came our turn to move through security. Scott went for the short line to the right. Just as he gets there, I get cut off by two wheel chairs. Please keep in mind for this next part that I was NOT in my right mind. I panic. I’ve got the cart with all our carry on luggage. I can not maneuver it around the chairs. So, I start to hand Scott the laptops by walking through the tiny gap between the chairs. Well, the lady in the second wheel chair did not like the fact I was walking so close to her hurt foot and gave me a few choice words. I said that my husband was already in line and I needed to get to him. She came back with “All you have to do is communicate.” I should have left it at that, but man, I was so tired, so hot, so frustrated, irritated, and before I even knew it I was already talking back to her. I said, “I’m sorry. Excuse me; we are trying to catch a plane that leaves soon. My body clock is currently in another time zone, I’ve got two sick kids. I can’t even think straight. So excuse me.” She didn’t say anything back. Gave me a smug “whatever” look, and I think the airport rep who pushed her in might have said that was uncalled for. To make matters worse, by the time I got up to go through the metal detector they made go back because I was wearing a jacket. I had to take it off for the x-ray machine. Once through I couldn’t help but noticed that my favorite wheel chair lady (probably in her mid to late 40’s) had been pulled through over to the side for an additional security check. I really wanted to apologize for my outburst, but we only had 15 minutes left. Our gate was at the end of the terminal, but we made it with 5 minutes to spare.

I don’t remember much about this flight except that Morgan threw up right at the beginning of it and Mason would not stop talking. We girls slept through most of the fight. Mason fell asleep thirty minutes before we had to land. I can’t say enough about how well the kids did. They were amazing. As we waited for our luggage, Morgan took her neck pillow out and fell asleep right on the floor. I wanted to take a photo of that too, but could not get to the camera. Riding home was so surreal. It was almost as if our Australian adventure had been a dream. We opened the door to our home and in amazement said “We live in a mansion!” All of us immediately had renewed energy as we reconnected with our home. The kids within minutes were already playing with their toys. It was so hard to believe that we were back. I’m so thankful we all came back safe and sound. I started to feel sick later that night and am still struggling with the cold. But honestly I don’t care. We are home.