Say Hello To Baby: Down the Rabbit Hole

We've never flown with Continental before... well, at least not as a family. And we never will again.

We left PIT at 5:45pm Friday and when we were about an hour South they served us sandwiches. I briefly considered making Continental our airline of choice. Briefly. And just 2 short hours later we were flying a holding pattern somewhere North West of Houston, going nowhere fast.

We were eventually diverted to Austin, where we had the privilege of sitting on the tarmac for 3 rainy hours. Luckily, the babe fell asleep shortly before we landed in Austin, but woke around hour 2.

After refueling & letting a few hostages off, we headed back to Houston. Obviously, we missed our 8:45pm connection, since we didn't touchdown until 12:30am.

Yeah, 12:30am. 1:30am Eastern. The baby had napped a total of 4 hours since he woke Friday morning @ 5:30am. And he was still up @ 12:30am Saturday waiting in line to re-book a flight to Baton Rouge. Of course, the first confirmed flight out of Houston was Sunday @ 2pm.

If you remember correctly, Leah & Dave's wedding was Saturday... making a Sunday arrival just a little bit late. Perfect predicament for an Alice in Wonderland Wedding. "I'm late, I'm late. For a very important date!"

Anyway, long story longer. We had no choice but to take the Sunday flight & go searching for our luggage and Mama's Thyroid medicine. The Continental agent pointed us toward baggage, but never mentioned that if you leave the secure gate area, there's no way to get back in until the TSA opens the next morning.

We left. Yeah. More on that later.

In comes Charlotte Garcia, Continental Baggage Agent. I loved her. She found us an 8:20am flight to Baton Rouge on Saturday morning. She also found our baggage, but we decided to just meet our 50 pound bag a few short hours later in Baton Rouge.

While I was loving on Charlotte, Papa & Alexander were riding the bus, searching for a rental car. They found the rental building, but the storm had knocked the power out and all Papa got was a little sweaty. Oh, and he lost Alexander's super-cool dinosaur water bottle. But no worries, we had a flight out in the morning, or so we thought.

So we headed back toward our gate, and found out we couldn't re-enter the secure area until 5am.

Yeah, and just so you know, there is NOWHERE to sit or sleep or anything in the insecure area of the Houston Airport. We finally set up camp in the tram station under Terminal C. "Approaching Terminal C. Please hold on to the railing. Next Stop, the Marriott." Every 3 minutes. Every 3 minutes we were rattled awake with the promise of the approaching Terminal C.

Despite the misleading pictures about, the baby refused to sleep. As soon as I got him to doze off & tried to cuddle up next to him on the floor, a tram would rumble him awake. So we walked the subway. Walked, and walked. Not a store was open. Eventually, my lovely Charlotte Garcia gave us a stroller & bought me a Diet Coke from the staff vending machine.

Then Papa's 4:25am alarm rang and we headed up stairs to check in & print our tickets. The end was in sight. Or, so we thought.

The machine neglected to print "infant" on my ticket, so we were once again refused entry into the secure area. Back in line. And an hour later Mama finally lost it.

When we finally got to the front of the Continental line, the horrible lady said, "no problem, easy." And then followed up with, "Your flight has been canceled. But don't worry, we'll get you on the 11:20am flight... Monday." Monday. Monday. Monday. We were supposed to fly back to Pittsburgh Monday.

The horrible Continental ticket counter monster could care less. When I asked for a hotel voucher (since the flight attendant promised us all a hotel room & transportation while we were sitting in Austin), all she coldly said was, "Continental doesn't do that." I left the counter saying the *F* word, and expressing my hatred of Houston. And Continental. And, for some reason, the i-Phone. I had been awake for about 26 hours at that point. For some reason, staying up that long was A LOT more fun in college.

What next? Look for the lovely Charlotte Garcia in the Terminal C baggage claim, of course.

Unfortunately, instead of reuniting with my dear Charlotte, we were greeted with a lazy witch whining, "We don't pick luggage on day shift." I told her my medicine was in there, and all she said was, "Let me give you some advice, honey, carry-on everything you need for at least 48 hours. I carry my nebulizer, blah, blah, blah."

Mama said, "So next time I guess I'll carry-on my pack-n-play so my baby doesn't have to sleep on the airport floor." She didn't get the sarcasm, and replied, "I don't think a pack-n-play is necessary."

And I said, "It is if I don't want my boy sleeping on the floor, again." Yeah, I left the office freely expressing my hatred for Houston, Continental & the i-Phone, again.

Now the whole family was on the bus to the rental car station. Luggage-free. Papa made an interesting connection between the George Bush Houston Airport and the Bush legacy... I'll let you make your own connections.

After about 20 minutes riding, in what I thought was a big circle, the driver finally announced that the rental car building was out of power & that he was going to drop us elsewhere. He drove the wrong way up an exit lane & told us all to get out and that people with reservations could go to the left.

But what about us? We were quickly turned away from Enterprise; existing reservations only. Papa begged at Budget, and while he pleaded and flashed some cash, the boy & I started moving through the large 3 story, dark rental tower in search of any computer life. Finally, Avis got their system working & let us rent a Toyota.

I love Toyota. And Diet Coke.

After a quick stop at the Jack-in-the-Box for some caffinated beverages, we were on our way to Baton Rouge. Alexander passed out before we hit the first speed bump. Poor little guy!

We arrived in the Red Stick around noon, just in time to meet our luggage @ BTR off a flight we were not on...

Anyway. Now on to the good parts...

Nette, Vasya & Galya met us with beer-in-hand. And after a long, hot shower, Papa hit the air mattress while Mama & Nette headed to Mutty's pool. Did I mention I was up for nearly 40 hours at this point? Yeah. I hate Houston, but mostly I hate Continental.

But I do love me some Germans. Mutty & Craig kept Alexander & Galya while we all went to the wedding. At some point during the night a Louisiana thunder storm woke everyone & our little guy, apparently, was comforted by Craig AND spent the rest of the night snuggled up with him in the guest bedroom.

Regardless of if the babe slept or not, no one called to tell Mama different, so off to Dave & Leah's wedding we went.

Despite our best efforts, we were an hour late for the wedding. Luckily, the bride was an hour & a half late. I'm not sure if it was a part of the whole Alice in Wonderland theme, but it worked for us!

Papa & Vasya played a few games of over-sized chess.

And Uncle Will smoked a few Stogies.

I know it was Leah's day, but doesn't Papa Blake look amazing? Too bad he lives in Houston & doesn't return Mama's phone calls these days... :)

How about Papa's top hat? Ah, yeah, he cooks & then he chills!

I just LOVE hanging with the cajuns! While some people go to a wedding & chill, our crew spent the evening quoting just about everyone in the guest book & bribing the "help" for some tea.

Dave made a boat load of Mead, a honey wine, to serve at the wedding. Unfortunately, we drank so much, we only had one bottle to take home to Ronnie...