Why I am Scared to Fly

I haven't always been fearful of flying. No, I haven't always been scared of going up 10,000 feet in the air soaring above the clouds. In fact at one point growing up, I even wanted to become a pilot. I loved the feeling of take off and the control over a big aircraft and everyone on board.

No, now I have a different reason for being scared:


Kids. I shouldn't really blame them. It's just that everything is more complicated, stressful, and cumbersome with them in tow.

When I used to fly with just Landon, it wasn't all that bad. And even when Etame was an infant she would sleep. Then, the flight back to Oregon for Easter '09 happened. The infamous airport story whereby Trisha was nearly handcuffed and locked up (or so I thought would happen) at BWI for having a toy gun in my bag. Ugh. It was horrible, mortifying, and completely without my knowledge. I had been given the bag from a good friend who also has a 5yo son and it had not been completely emptied. Really. Cue to alarms going off, 6-8 transit authority police, supervisors, and all of the lines shut down in security while they held up a toy cap gun in front of my face so everyone could see, telling me that this was not funny and it was a federal offense.

I got through it but not without emotional scaring. Hence the reason I have never written about it on here perhaps. I vowed from then on to search every nook and cranny of every bag I carried. Of course this was all opened again when I received a $250 fee in the mail this week from the TSA. Seriously. As if the public humiliation was not enough.

The last flight we took, we were yelled at as everyone was de-boarding by a slightly "off" man. It was almost equally bad with what he said. I won't repeat it here.

So now you can see my fear. I dread flying. I hope it gets easier. I'm thinking of renting an RV and driving out to Oregon next summer. Really. Seriously. Days in the car may be easier than 10 hours of being in a confined area with strangers.