So, we’ve all heard about that passenger that hit a toddler on a flight, correct? Ca-RAZY story. If you were under a rock that day, a 60 year old man slapped a 19 month old boy (wait: it gets worse) and told the mom to “shut that N-word baby up.” Before you frantically open a new browser to cancel your spring break flight to visit Grandma and Grandpa in CaliFloridArizona, remind yourself:
You’ve been cooped up all winter. You’ve visited the local free museum so frequently that your toddler could stand in as curator. You’ve sung “Wheels on the Bus” no less than 200 times (maybe in just one week), and you’ve read “Fox and Socks” to the point where you refused to celebrate Dr. Seuss’ bday. (What a tongue twisting A-hole!) You DESERVE this vacation, and you’re going to have fun, damnit!
Let the haters hate: Flying with a kid
1) Unlike Dr. Seuss, the majority of fellow passengers are not A-holes. In fact, I’ve yet to interact with someone who wasn’t extra nice to lil’ man and me. In total, we’ve taken 20 flights in his 20 months of life; about one third of them just he and I. Think of trips to the grocery store: do other people roll their eyes at your kid, or do they tend to make “oh-he’s-so-cute” utterances? I take advantage of fellow passengers’ and/or flight attendants’ kindness, which leads me to my next point.
2) When people offer help, I accept it graciously. Got the peanut in the baby Bjorn and can’t lift the bag to the overhead compartment? Yes, I’d love a hand! Forgot to bring a sippy cup? How thoughtful of you to provide a lid and straw! My baby’s screaming and this huge, burly man with a beard turns around and asks, “Can I hold him?” Be my guest!!
I ask for and accept help all the time; maybe to a fault, according to my husband. I see nothing wrong with sharing the load. Unless it’s a load in the pants, and then I change it myself. There will be no imposing that (literal) shit on anyone but my husband…and maybe my parents…and maybe my best friend, twice in one morning of babysitting. Guess I owe her another bottle of vino.
4) I do NOT bring my diaper bag. Because I am an idiot, I did not register for a diaper bag with backpack straps. My friend has a Petunia Picklebottom, and it’s amazing. I will say that it’s on the pricey side and a bit bulky, and therefore difficult to squeeze under the seat. Heaven knows we can’t actually store the baby bag in the overhead compartment, lest we need more Goldfish crackers.
I just use a regular backpack. This serves two purposes. 1) It limits the amount of crap I can bring. B) I can pretend I’m a junior in college again, backpacking around Europe, instead of about to play with airplane stirrers and coffee cups for the two hour flight to Pennsylvania.
As we make our final descent, know that most people are not haters. Even the TSA agents, whose pearly whites you’d NEVER think you’d see, will crack a smile when you let your little one waddle through the metal detector. Flying with a kid is annoying at worst, and easier-than-I-thought at best. Are you really NOT going to enjoy a much needed vacation because of a few hours of inconvenience? Plus, there is always booze on a flight. Just sit in the back so fewer people will judge you.
Share your flying triumps/defeats below!
Stay social, mom friends.