Fly guy

It's official; we all survived the flights for vacation. However, that doesn't mean everything went as planned, just that there were few casualties. 

In the days leading up to take-off, I was consumed with how the first flight would go. So much so that I think I forgot about the actual vacation and focused all of my attention on what to do with the G-man for 2.5 hours in an enclosed space. I mean, c'mon, the kid has at best a 15-second attention span. That meant I had to have a lot of tricks up my sleeve to keep a full 5 minutes peaceful and hope that he didn't notice we were going into repeats after that. 

Our bags were stocked. I mean, STOCKED. One bag devoted entirely to snacks. This kid had a full buffet at his disposal - snack bags, puddings, juice, milk, breakfast bars, an apple, granola bars, applesauce. Everything short of an omelet it seemed. And we still bought him a water bottle and a bagel in the waiting area. Thank goodness the TSA pretty much lets a toddler bring anything they want to on to a plane. Smart people.

Another bag was pegged entertainment. Books, stuffed animal, DVD player, an arsenal of DVDs, magnadoodle, enough stickers to completely cover a flight attendant, play-doh, color wonder paper, markers and stamps. Everyone said, oh, you must have a DVD player. That alone will save you! You don't even need anything else. Guess what? No go. We turned it on and the reaction was lukewarm at best. Turns out, G-man could care less. We desperately signaled for his attention to Cars and The Cat in the Hat. Our fail-safe, well, failed. 

The last bag held our extras. Extra clothes for everyone (besides the ones already packed in the other two), extra sippy cups, extra food, extra stickers, more diapers, enough wipes to clean up after a zoo. We've heard the horror stories of being stuck on the tarmac for hours or re-routed to sweden. We're taking no chances.

And yet, the first flight was pretty ok. Despite the lack of interest in watching TV, he did really enjoy the stickers. He played with the markers and stamps (and only lost one under the seat). He was certainly antsy, but then again, so were we. No one likes being in a small space for so long. When he fussed a bit, it was ok. And when he decided to spend 10 minutes simply crawling back and forth on us, stretching out and climbing up to see over the seat, we took it in stride. The tray table amused him and he even ate some snacks without too much of a mess. All in all, a success.

So we were a bit cocky on the flight back. 

We confidently boarded, armed again with our powerful weapons of loaded bags. He was even a little tired so this might go even better. Other babies found laps on the plane and as one started to wail, Scott and I looked at each other with that "thank goodness it's not our kid" gaze. This aircraft was a little roomier, G-man had just had lunch, things were looking up.

A little sticker play, some stuffed animal hugs, stern warnings from mommy and daddy on kicking the seat in front of him and lo and behold, he's asleep. Awesome. Maybe we can read our books, too.

The pilot made an announcement. He stirred. The flight attendant repeated the announcement. And the beast was awake.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, AAAAAAAAAAAAH, AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

At the top of his lungs. For what seemed like a really long time. Writhing in our arms. Pissed at being awake. Pissed at still being in the air. Thrashing, screaming, wailing, calming down only to reload. The seatbelt sign was on so no way to walk him around. It continued. We fought the monster. Here, take anything, take everything! A lollipop! A marker! Our thumbs! A drink! Nothing worked. 

This went on for a while. And through it all, whenever he was quieter, another baby would start up to fill the void. Everyone on that plane deserved a medal, some earplugs and a stiff drink. 

We finally landed, he perked up and we did the reverse walk of shame: sitting in our seats as passengers went by, some stopping to tell us they'd been there, it wasn't all that bad, don't worry about it. I swear, that made it worse.

So to you, fellow travelers, I apologize. Especially to those in seats 5A and 5C who endured the kicking, and to all of those that didn't have the sense to bring earphones and a fifth of vodka when there was a baby on the plane.