State of Grace

Several weeks ago, my girlfriend Annie handed me my new year’s resolution in a small silver box wrapped with a bow. Inside was a pendant necklace inscribed with the word “grace.”

I’m sure this subtle hint to live my life with more grace had nothing to do with my behavior during a recent fender bender. After dropping off my kids at pre-school, another mom backed her Volvo station wagon into my brand new mini-van. She hopped out of her car and asked, “Are you okay?” I jumped out of my car and said “What the [expletive]!” Volvo Mom became quite upset that I swore at her. I’m not sure how but at the end of the insurance information exchange, I was the one apologizing.

Thanks to Annie and the Volvo Mom, I had my New Year’s resolution weeks before the year concluded.

This early resolution came in handy when I recently flew home with my two kids. While standing in the security line, we were sent to Lane 1 that was completely empty. I thought to myself, what joy! Finally someone recognizes the agony of the mother traveling alone with two small children and a multitude of carry-ons. Yeah, right! I didn’t realize that I had been flagged as security risk and needed a team of five TSA officials to search my bags and body.

“Ma’m, you cannot have any contact with your children. Please step aside.” The TSA officials took my two little beauties and moved them down a corridor away from me.

I rubbed my grace necklace as I felt the anger rising within. I am happy to take off my shoes and get the occasional wand over. We all want to be safe. But c’mon, were Mommies now being profiled as a security risk? Did I look more anxious than any other person about to embark on a five-hour flight with two kids five and under? Or was I just being punished for my bad fashion choice of a pink sweater with orange stripes?

I flashed back to two years ago, when I single handily shut down the Wichita, Kansas’s airport. My pregnant belly received quite the pat down. They suspected I had some type of drugs in tow and kept swabbing my clothes and diaper bag. Which made perfect sense. We all know that the waddling pregnant mother traveling with a toddler has proven quite successful as a drug smuggling disguise.

“Can you please tell me why I was chosen?” I asked the TSA officer tending to my recent security breach. There was no good answer. Of course, I didn’t buy my ticket the night before, pay cash or make last minute changes. God knows if I were able to live that spontaneously, I wouldn’t be standing in the Cinnicinati airport with baby Belle in one hand and a bottle of extra strength Tylenol in the other.

I looked over at my kids who were being questioned about the origins of their Tinkerbelle suitcase. Fortunately, they thought it was a game. I smiled at them as the TSA official patted me down. When she touched my over-inflated post-holiday belly, I felt an inner grumbling. How dare she remind me of my pooch without fair warning. Does that mean that I now have to wear control top panties when I fly?

After the food bag, the book bag, the in-case-we-get-stranded bag and the bag-that-used-to-be-my-purse had been searched and swabbed, I was released from suspicion. My ticket got the big yellow mark meaning A.O.K for this frazzled mommy. No threat here. My kids ran over to me as we resumed “contact.” And with as much charm as I could muster in my disheveled state, I actually thanked the TSA officials.

There were a few odd stares from other passengers as I reassembled my clothing and threw my bags onto the double stroller. As we walked away from security, I started to giggle. I should be flattered, I thought. Did someone actually think that I could plan something more than whether it’s hot dogs or chicken nuggets for dinner? That I might be able to withhold information and not be bribed by the promise of a full night’s sleep or an afternoon with no whining?

My sordid and exhausted mind decided to take this intrusion as a compliment. Some TSA official had greatly overestimated my capabilities. I decided to celebrate my new graceful and extremely capable self with a large chocolate bar and a People magazine from the airport gift shop.