Stars Truck-Star Struck

Mom was upset because when she asked the AirTran checkin guy if she could go to the gate to help me with the kids, I answered before he could reject her. "I wish you wouldn't do that! I told you I wanted to go back with you." Technically that was not true. She did mention in the car on the way that she wondered if she could go with us to the gate, the way she had with Nafisa my niece a month earlier. I told her that she was probably allowed because Nafisa was a minor. I apologized and explained how I didn't want to get too emotional. It was better to say our goodbyes and not drag it out. Which was half true. I really didn't think he would let her and Reddah come to the gate and I didn't want a battle. Mom, if nothing else, was a fighter. We sat in some chairs outside the security entrance while I fed Ayah. She was ready for her nap but I hoped she'd wait till we got on the plane. We made small talk about the plan once we got to New York, which reminded me I needed change for the luggage trolly. I was worried about how Hamza would react to the plane, then I remembered I wanted to give them gum to help with the pressure change. I bought some gum and got my change. Reddah helped me put all our liquids into baggies that sat on a nearby table. We gave our hugs and two sad little faces watched us as we entered and wound round the zig zagged belts that routed the line up to the security check.

I had briefed the boys on the ballet that is the security check the night before our leaving. It wasnt like this was their first time traveling but it had been a while and I want to be sure we'd move through as efficiently as possible. It was supposed to go like this: Boys take off shoes, place shoes in bin, take off back packs, place back packs on conveyer belt; I take Ayah out of her carrier, Ahmed holds Ayah, I place my shoes in the bin and carryon on the belt, I take Ayah, we walk through the metal detector one at a time. But when we got there the guard informed us that children under twelve didn't need to remove their shoes. So, instead of the boys going onto the next step, this is how it went: Boys stood around looking, I called Ahmed's name, I called hamza's name, told the boys to put bags on conveyer belt, called hamza's name again, told hamza to take off his backpack, picked up hamza's back pack off the ground for him, put it on the belt, put my carryon on the belt, called Ahmed, called Ahmed again, reminded him I need him to hold Ayah, took Ayah out of carrier-gave her to Ahmed, took off carrier and placed it on belt, watched Ahmed and Hamza stand around like they were half sleep, held Ayah as kids walked through metal detector, backed up- let Ahmed walk through again-this time not touching the sides, forgot to take off metal bracelet, began to sweat profusely, placed bracelet in bowl, walk through again, forgot to pack contact solution in checked luggage-get called aside for thorough bag check, told Hamza twice to get his bag, told Ahmed to get the rest of my stuff, had Ahmed hold Ayah, put on carrier, put Ayah back in carrier. Once I'd had all our things, and my wits I told them we would be doing that exact thing at least two more times and they needed to be quicker at it.

Once we were on the plane and in the air, Hamza was fine. I thought he might have an anxiety attack or something like that but he was more interested in Ayah meeting the baby of similar age who was seated in the row diagonal from us with his father. They were clearly New Yorkers. They had two other boys who sat in front of us with the mother who kept saying "that's disgusting" "Look Liam, look at your hands. That's disgusting!" "No, no.. Don't do that.. Are you kidding me? That's disgusting!" "Look honey, look what he's doing. Isn't that disgusting!? That's disgusting isn't it? Tell him that's disgusting!" It made me recall a SNL skit and I figured it was a NY thing to use that word so liberally. The oldest boy wore a yamaka that looked like a basketball that the flight attendant commented on, then he oo'ed and ahh'ed at Ayah and made small talk as he passed out our drinks.

When we landed at LaGuardia and deplaned, Hamza asked me why the flight attendant had been so nice to us. I told him that was his job and he said it seemed liked he liked me or something. I told him that he was just a friendly happy person. It was obvious to me he preferred the other team, but walking through the airport was not the time or place to have a conversation about sexuality.. Or was it? Just as we'd finished that conversation I saw Joshua McKinley from project runway's season 9 and I totally freak out. He was walking towards us and when our eyes met, I go.. 'Hey! Oh! oh my God, I know you.' And he nodded and smiled and said "Hey, hi, how are you?" I was really excited and truly star struck.. which I couldn't believe. So I kept saying wow, I cant believe we saw him, to which my boys kept saying who? Who? Who did we see? I told them I'd explain later. I got our luggage and arranged for the shuttle to JFK which cost $13 freaked dollars a seat! (see gypsy money post). As we sat outside waiting for the shuttle bus, I said 'Man! I should have asked for a picture.. I can't believe I didn't ask for one!' Hamza got upset. "Really mom! really?! Your so excited about some guy who sews? and anyway I don't think Baba would like it if you took a picture with some strange man." Spoken like a true little Gypsy man, and of course he was right. It wasn't THAT kind of a pic, but again, I didn't feel like having that kind of talk. This trip was heavy enough as it were. I had given them both a very basic, age appropriate explanation of homosexuality when Hamza was in Kindergarten and came home to tell me a girl in his class said she was going to marry a girl when she grew up, and he told her, no she couldn't, because her mom married her dad and that's what she had to do. A basic introduction was needed and even though I was sure he had gained a little more information via the neighborhood kids, I wasn't ready.

I really needed to share my excitement with someone. My Reddah!.. Oh, where was Reddah? Reddah would understand! She would have been as excited as I was. I felt sad at the thought of her cute little face beaming at our sighting of Josh and the cute little giggle she would be laughing at that very minute. She would have understood me, had she been there. It would have been a harmless picture. Anyway, I Tweeted and Facebooked it as soon as we got to JFK. I wrote season 10 instead of 9 by mistake, and my spell check thought I wanted to write "stars truck" instead of "star-struck"I hate it when that happens.