Kids and Planes - Tips from "the expert".

So a while ago we decided to go on vacation. Let's take the kids we say, it would be so nice to go somewhere warm as a family! We get the passports, the sunscreen and the towels.

I planned on writing this fantastic blog about plane rides with children and how if you're prepared everything can go smoothly. It was supposed to be an awesome list of tricks and tips from an "expert".


Here is what actually happened...


On our way to paradise

I'm nervous. I have only taken my daughter on a plane but now I also have my son Nolan who is 18 months old, he is one of those "active" children. I love that parents choose the nicest possible way to describe a child who will not stay still for longer 5 seconds at a time. The type that went from rolling over to crawling at 6 months, who just skipped that perfect age between 4 and 8 months where they can sit and play but are completely immobile. You know this kid... he's the 9 month old walker.

So there I was with the "active" child, herding him into a 4 x 1 foot space for 6 hours straight. Most people would think that letting this child peruse the plane and aisle who be a good idea. They are mistaken. If he knows he can get out of his cage of seats there's no turning back. That would be the end of me sitting, although the sitting I'm describing is not kind I'm used, this sitting involves being a toy, stool, and a climbing apparatus.

Although it's no walk in the park this plane thing is pretty easy I think to myself. Just let them play and bring lots of snacks and toys to keep them occupied. As we deboard the plane I'm pretty proud of my plane skills and other than poop explosion with no extra pants we get through the flight without a single tear.

I decide on the way back I'll actually write my fabulous blog because the kids will be sleeping as I know exactly how to keep the content now.

Leaving Paradise for a Mountain of Snow

My confidence is up and I'm feeling pretty good about my plane parenting. I now know to pack extra pants and I've learned to make sure snacks are readily available. Unfortunately this is an evening flight my "active" child has considerably less patience for being stuck in these extremely tight quarters when he's tired. Before we even leave the ground he's laying on the floor planning his escape route under the seats. This is not a good sign.

Take off is rough he will not sit the "burp position" like he did last time. He will not drink the bottle I came prepared with to avoid ear troubles. He doesn't want to sit with us at all actually. I get the snacks and toys out but he is not the least bit interested. Then he starts crying, my son isn't much of a crier so I do the checklist; Hungry, no. Thirsty, no. Tired, no. Poopy, yep that's it. I stand up to take him to the bathroom to do a quick bum change. I'm trapped. I've got a drink cart coming at me from both directions. I normally change my baby wherever and whenever but considering the lack of airflow I didn't think it was appropriate, so the crying continues. After a few minutes the coast is clear. I dart for the bathroom but on my way the seat belt sign turns on. I risk it and keep going it's already been a good 1/2 hour since the poop was discovered. The flight attendant stops me and tells me to sit. They are continuing with the drink service so logic tells me this can't be life or death type of turbulence. I argue with her and tell her I promise I'll be quick. No luck. Back to my seat with the screaming baby. After a quick discussion my hubby and I decide to ignore the seatbelt sign and change the poor kid on the seat, he's had diarrhea a few times on the trip so we don't want a sore bum situation happening. While the fabulous scent reaches my fellow passengers I hear some mild grumbling. As the flight attendant walks by I ask her to take the diaper to the garbage but she refuses so the diaper continues to fill the already stale air for another 10 minutes.

Crisis averted but he's still crying. I sit, I stand, I walk, I bounce, I rock, I sing but the crying continues. A really considerate flight attendant stops and asks if he's hungry. Oh, well that makes sense it's 5:30, he must be hungry. She makes him a supper early but he won't eat a single bite. I wrap him in a mei tei hoping he'll just fall asleep. He doesn't. It's been 1 hour of crying now, since the original poop crisis crisis. People are beginning to get annoyed. I'm surrounded by a group of 20 somethings who look like they've had a few too many margaritas and were hoping for a quiet flight home. For the most part though I get a lot of sympathetic looks from mothers and grandmothers. Another hour goes by of contant crying and their sympathy turns to pity. A dad comes up and asks if I need anything for him medically, he offered tylenol or benadryl, I have no idea whats wrong with him so I take the tylenol in hopes it will at least make him tired (at this point I would have taken a tranquilizer if it was offered).

After another 1/2 hour he finally starts doing the closed eye cry. For all you non parents this means he's on his way out. He goes in and out of sleep and crying. If I stop rocking or if I talk or sit he wakes up. Ok. I give up. I will just sit, my back is acheing and theres no way I can stand for another second. As long as I'm singing he's quiet I can't think of a lullaby long enough so I sing him Adele's Someone like you. It's long enough that he finally falls asleep for good. There is still 2 hours left of this flight and it's going to be quiet.

I ask the flight attendant for a pop. I set it on my daughters tray and it slides off and spills all over her. She's begins screaming and wakes up the "active" child. Seriously. He eats a few bites of cracker and cheese and with some more Adele he lays his head down and goes back to sleep.

Ahhhh....it's quiet for 30 minutes straight. Everyone is sleeping. I begin writing my blog and realize I just happen to get lucky on the ride to Mexico. I've come to the conclusion that you can't predict how children will react to anything. We're lucky if they stick to a routine day to day let alone expect them to behave while we're on a flight 20,000km in the air. I was a fool to think I had any control over the situation. I am still proud of my plane parenting. I don't think I could have handled the situation any better. I ignored all the stares and grumbling and focused on my child and that's about all you can do.

The flight ended with Isla waking up screaming because her bug bites were bothering her and to top it all off a pen exploded all over Jeff as we landed.

We survived. And we'd probably do it again....just not anytime soon : )