We are here. I guess that is all that matters at this point. But I will bore you to death with record all of the details and minutiae of our plane ride, connection in Frankfurt, and meeting our "relocation expert" and our new home anyway.
So as the grand dame Betty Davis once said, "Fasten your seat belts. It's going to be a bumpy ride."
First, some basics. I am using RWF's computer while we are in Germany. I am not so familiar with a Mac. I may take a little longer getting photos uploaded, etc. I apologize to everyone for the email spam that occurred. Unfortunately, my computer was hacked! Ack! Also, I only brought one adaptor with me. It is usually reserved for charging my phone. My camera battery is dead, and has been neglected.
Second, we all are still dealing with jet lag. Gianna is usually awake from 1 a.m. to 4 a.m. Because we are dealing with our own jet lag, and being "forced" to stay awake all morning with Gianna, we are having an even harder time getting our heads on straight. All this to say, I may not make sense.
The plane ride was about as bad as I expected. Both babies did great when we got on the plane. The 'newness' of the situation was fun. We prepped Bode about going on an airplane. Because he is so young, nothing really sunk in until he was actually there and experiencing it. He would sit in his seat and look around and announce, "We on an airplane, Mommy. We going bye-bye! We going to Germany!" This was all good but I knew that he had no comprehension (nor did I expect him to!) of how LONG we would be on that airplane. And it got worse: our flight was delayed for 1 hour. We sat on the airplane for an additional hour before we even started to move! Of course, they made us sit there for the entire hour not knowing WHY we were delayed. (later, a gabby flight attendant told us that there was a scheduling issue with a plane and they had to switch flight crews!). Inside, I was fuming. My babies have to tack on an additional hour to their already long journey.
All in all, Bode was good. Actually, he was great. He sat there for the longest time. He got sleepy but couldn't or didn't know how to sleep on the plane. He would squirm around, and we would try to get him to lay down on the seats, or recline. He didn't want to do that. So instead of fighting him, we let him watch movies. Watching movies took the stress off of him to figure out how he was going to fall asleep. We figured that he was "resting" as much as he could rest on the plane.
Gianna was harder. She was also exhausted and unable (or unwilling) to sleep on the plane. We had her in her car seat and she didn't like that. She would start crying, and then wailing. People would turn around and look. In that moment, I became what I never thought I would be: the person on the plane with the annoying screaming child. I tried to let her cry herself to sleep. But she just screamed louder and was looking at me like, "Are you deaf and blind? Pick me up, idiot!" So Bob and I took turns holding her. Sometimes she would stand in the seat and bounce on her feet. Bob and I would take turns standing or crouching in the aisle. She loved all the people saying "hi" to her and smiling. She would smile at them. When she was falling asleep, she would wake when someone would walk by (and I would silently curse anyone who stopped and waved at her). Sleep for anyone was futile. So we just dealt with it as best we could.
When we landed in Frankfurt, I was thrilled. I thought, "We made it!" I knew that SFO to Frankfurt was the worst part. And after SFO to FRA, FRA to TXL (Berlin) would be a breeze. But things also got sticky in Frankfurt. Because of the hour delay in SFO, we were told that we missed our connection to Berlin. Our original flight took off in 1/2 hour after our landing, at 11:40. Because we were late, we were told by the res agent that we had to take a 1 o'clock flight instead. We walked to Customs. As we approached, the Polzei joked to Bob, in clipped English, "Are you the leader of the pack?" Bob replied, "Depends on who you ask." and handed over our passports. The two agents looked over our passports. The jokester announced, "There is a problem with the passports." A female agent added, "It is easily corrected." She looked at me, "You must sign your passport." How did I not sign my passport? I signed and we were waved on. We walked in slow motion to the gate, exhausted and thinking that we had time to spend. Bob had to speak to the ticketing agent because there was a mistake in our seating. They did not put us all together. We all had a middle seat, and were scattered all over the plane. When we got to the (new) gate, Bob went to talk to the (new) res agent about our seating. I took the babies out of the stroller and let them stretch their legs and run around the terminal. Apparently, the res agent pulled up our reservation and informed Bob that we had to hurry; we were still on the 11:40 flight. We shoved everything (including the babies) onto the stroller and ran to the original gate. We got to the gate and again, Bob asked the agent to correct our seating. She said, "I'm sorry. All seats have been assigned. There is nothing I can do." I saw red. I was exhausted and not thinking clearly. I turned to Bob and hissed, "I am not getting on this damn plane until I know that my babies are seated with me." He assured me that nobody was sitting by himself on the plane. We rushed to the ticket agent and again, Bob asked about the seating. The agent said that there was nothing that she could do and that we could ask the flight attendant on board to assist us. We were basically told to 'move it' because the gate was closing. Bob ran down the jet bridge with the babies. Somehow, I ended up with the bags, and not the babies (as was our usual arrangement). I had two backpacks, a carry-on, and Gianna's car seat to carry. I ran onto the plane and it was small! I couldn't get the bags through the aisle without knocking into people. I turned back and asked the purser to help me. He said that he couldn't leave the doorway and advised me to leave a bag by the door. I dropped all of the bags, took the car seat and walked back to Bob. I was shaking with anger (and just tired). Bob was talking to a flight attendant. She was shaking her head "no," and saying, "I am sorry but there is nothing I can do." I gave her, and the whole plane, a dirty look and loudly said, "These are babies. They cannot fly by themselves!" The flight attendant approached a row filled with businessmen and spoke in German, gesturing to us. One man got up. The flight attendant continued speaking to the other two men. I don't understand German but it looked like they were unwilling to move. And the flight attendant was smiling a fake "I'm a professional here." smile as she continued speaking and gesturing. She turned to us, "I am sorry, but there is only so much I can do." EXCUSE ME? What happened to, "you must obey all instructions of the flight crew?" Does that not apply on Lufthansa? I turned to Bob, "This is RIDICULOUS!" The pilot spoke in German on the intercom. Perhaps he said something like, "Let the hysterical American mother sit with her babies so that we can take off." Finally, the other two businessmen moved. I was allowed to sit with my babies. If it were just me and Bob on the plane, it wouldn't matter. But Bode and Gianna can't sit by themselves (obviously!). I took the car seat and it wouldn't fit into the seat. I almost started crying, "It won't fit!" Bob squeezed in and made the car seat fit. I put Gianna in, sat down in the middle seat and Bob fastened Bode into the aisle seat. Bob went off to find his seat. We took off for Berlin. I turned to Bode, "This is it. This is our last plane ride." He repeated, "Our rast prane ride!" And I told him, "This time, it won't be so long. It will be fast. We will be in Berlin soon." The flight attendant came by and cheerfully announced, "I believe these are yours!" and gave me two chocolates. Instead of saying what I really wanted to say to her, I just smiled and took the chocolates. Bode was already clutching a chocolate in his hand. "Open, Mommy. Open." Normally, I wouldn't allow chocolate. But this time? Absolutely! The flight was quick. I played cars with Bode and Gianna watched us with glazed eyes. We landed and the last part of the "work" was to be done: unloading ourselves and the bags from the airplane, picking up our bigger bags from baggage claim, and then finding our "relocation expert," Stefanie. Stefanie was to drive us to our new "flat," and acquaint us with the area.
Of course now, looking back on the situation, I can laugh. The babies seated by themselves on a plane? I laugh, thinking about approaching two business men and announcing, "Hallo, err...Guten Tag! This is Mia Gianna. She is your seat mate. Here is her car seat. Please ensure that she is fastened in. Also, she must drink her milk, her "ba-ba," while taking off and landing to avoid ear pain. Vielen Danke!" and then walking off to my seat. Har, har.
Note: I haven't talked to Bob about the Lufthansa flight. But I'm sure that he will have a different recollection. He'll probably say something like, "What do you mean? The businessmen got up immediately for you." He and I always seem to have a different take on things. Writing about the flight is exhausting me. I need to take a break. To be continued.
xo
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