(November 2, 2011)
She had been warning us for weeks that she wasn't going to California with us. But we just thought Marni was being her kooky self and didn't pay much attention.
That was a mistake.
We were now only a couple of hours away from wheels-up and Marni wasn't changing her tune as we busily finished getting our bags ready to head to the airport. As far as everyone but Marni was concerned, we were heading off to California for 7 days to attend a Bat Mitzvah, go to Disney Land, and visit with friends. Flights, hotels, and car rentals were all booked. All we had to do was get into the car-service mini van to Newark Airport.
And then, all hell broke loose.
As we began to wheel our suitcases out the door, Marni began a meltdown of biblical proportions. Screaming, crying, fighting with me, and refusing to leave the apartment. We let her be as we moved the suitcases to the car. But I eventually had to carry her to the building's front vestibule. This is where she attached herself to anything solid and refused to be moved, all the while screaming and crying in terror in a way that we had never experienced before. She pleaded with me to find someone in the building that would stay with her in the apartment for a week so she wouldn't have to go on the trip.
I eventually detached her from the woodwork and stuffed her into the car where she stiffened her body and refused to get into the car seat. Screaming! Luckily, our driver was understanding... because this pretty much looked like a kidnapping.
The intensity of Marni's terror was shocking. It's something I never want to see again. Where this terror was coming from is anyone's guess. She's flown before. Happily. Something was surely spooking her now.
All that was going through my head was the possibility Marni was somehow prescient about an impending disaster. Maybe she sensed that our plane was going to crash and she was trying to save us. But we weren't listening, and were foolishly dooming the whole family to death. Or, then again, maybe she was just a scared 5 year old.
We drove for a while with a sobbing Marni standing in the car. Eventually she relented and we buckled her into her car seat. I gave her my iPhone and fired up Netflix so she could watch a show and get her mind off her fears.
She was calm when we arrived at Newark. A trip to an overpriced but brilliantly located kids toy store in the terminal resulted in a lighter wallet and a calmer kid.
By the time we reach security, Marni was back to her normal abnormal self. Joking. Dancing. Singing. Playing with the conveyor belt that fed our bags into the x-ray machine.
The girls played happily as we waited to board. I slipped away to the check in desk and had a chat with the lady behind the counter, explaining that we may have a terrorized tot boarding the plane. She understood and agreed to allow us to board early so we could deal with another potential meltdown.
But the meltdown never happened.
Marni skipped down the Jetway and into the plane where the captain invited her and Stella (yes, Stella was with us too) into the cockpit for a tour. Marni in the pilot's seat and Stella as co-pilot. Stella even got to wear the captain's hat.
After the tour, we made our way to our seats, settled in, broke out the iPad, and took off for California. Without further incident.
And, no, we did not crash and die.
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| The smile high club. |
