Wow, is all I can say. It took me almost a week to recover enough to even be able to write about my first trip with both of my children. But then I remembered how bad it was, regressed, and decided to wait until we got back home to write about the whole travel experience. Still traumatized, I waited even longer, and now, here it is.
For the flights going to Dayton, I did everything good mommys are supposed to do…packed a bunch of my sons favorite snacks, his favorite toys, got him TV on the plane so he could watch cartoons, had Mr. Bluefin (his stuffed fish) ready in case he wanted to take a nap, and NONE of it mattered. He just wanted to do what he wanted to do. The first leg of the trip, he did well during the take-off, watched cartoons for a little while, and I thought, wow, this won’t be as bad as I thought it would/could be. THEN the whining started. He decided that the cartoons bored him, he didn’t want to watch them anymore, so he started to throw the earphones, almost hitting the woman in front of us. So, I thought, well maybe he wants a snack. Pulled out his favorite granola bars, no dice. Cheese and crackers? No thanks, crumbled them up and threw them on the floor. FINALLY got a hit with the fruit snacks, but only had two little packs left. It wasn’t enough. He started to get mad that there weren’t anymore, so he started whining again. Ok, pull out his Bumblebee Transformer, nope, doesn’t want that….okay…maybe the laptop he just got that he loves so much. Nah, not really interested, played with it for about 5 minutes, and threw that too. Then the whining started again.
I’m thinking to myself, thank GOD this is only a one hour 45 minute flight, but then I thought, man, he’s gonna do this the WHOLE rest of the way, then thankfully, the drink cart comes by to save the day. For a little while at least. He’s calm for about 15 minutes while he sips on his little soda. I am thankful to the flight attendant for getting us a re-fill and buying me another 15 or so minutes of whine-free time. So he whines for most of the rest of the flight, but I tune it out for the most part, and just try to keep him quiet enough so that he’s not disturbing all the other passengers.
So then this horrendous smell starts to permeate the air, and im looking around like, “who the HELL is THAT?!?!” Then, to my dismay, I realize its my child, and I had to laugh out loud a little bit. So I take him to the incredibly small bathroom, change his rancid smelling diaper, and think, there’s not much else that can go wrong. BOY, was I wrong. About 20 minutes later, we’re sitting down, well im sitting down, he’s jumping on the seat, squealing, because the man behind us is playing with him. I try to get him to sit down, and then he turns and looks at me, shakes his head, and then throws up ALL OVER himself, me and his sister, who is in a sling. I don’t even have time to say anything but, “Oh!”, the beginning of OH MY GOD! I just sat there and looked at him for about 15 seconds, too stunned to do anything else. The man sitting behind us (who obviously has flown with children before) immediately popped up out of his seat, and got us some paper towels. The flight attendents were also really cool and helped us out. After that leg of the trip, I vowed to never again travel with two small children by myself.
Coming back to California, however, wasn’t so bad. Miles still didn’t want to walk around the terminal or the jetway to get down to the plane, which made things more complicated, but didn’t really phase me. I was SO happy once we completed our trip that I just took a couple of days and didn’t really do much of anything that required me having to get the kids ready and leave the house. Now if I could just get these suitcases unpacked…