your air travel guide December 10, 2007

I may have mentioned that we’re going to South Florida after Christmas. On a plane. As we do every year. Does this sound familiar? I’m starting to feel as if this is the only tradition I have because I am CLINGING to it and also reminding everyone about it any chance I get.

Last year, this trip was Sherman’s first plane trip, and my first trip with an infant (he was 8 months old). This year’s will be his fourth trip on a plane.

Last Christmas (“…I gave you my heart”), we flew all the way into Key West with Sherman. We changed planes in Miami. I remember letting him crawl around on the floor at the Miami airport just to give him some wiggle time. Otherwise, the plane trip wasn’t that bad, at least not that I remember. Holding 20 pounds on your lap in coach is not the most comfortable way to spend a flight, but we weren’t delayed so it could have  been worse. On the way home (New Years Day), the flight was fine after an unfortunate incident with the twin toddlers across the aisle whose screaming scared Sherman. Then, instead of Train’s brother picking us up at National, he told us when we landed he didn’t know how to get to the airport, so we had to take the Metro out to meet him, which added about 45 minutes to the trip…with a stroller, car seat, two suitcases, and a very tired toddler who (thankfully) was soothed by the motion of the train.

Train, Sherman, and my dad waiting for our flight out of Key West

In March we went to visit some family in Florida. Sherman still wasn’t walking yet but very wiggly. It was only an hour and a half flight so it wasn’t too difficult to keep him occupied with cheerios or toys. He continued what he had started in December by falling asleep as we landed…almost as soon as the landing gear came down. It’s a little frustrating, but he sleeps through baggage claim.

Then in June we went back to Key West with Ditto, Roadrunner, and Pete. We flew on JetBlue to Fort Lauderdale and rented a minivan to drive the rest of the way. We were across the aisle from them, and it seemed as though we’d get one child calmed down and the other one would crank it up. Sherman was relentlessly wiggly, it was a struggle to keep him from bothering people around us or wanting to get up and walk. Both kids slept through baggage claim so that was a relief. We had two of everything…strollers, high chair covers, diaper bags, car seats, sippy cups, plus we had taken our Pack N Play since my parents only had one at the house. Although I dreaded the flight home, all in all it was a nice trip and we were all speaking at the end, so that was a success. It’s a pain having to coordinate two kids’ nap/eating schedules (Pete was 9 months old so still eating bottles), but it’s also comforting to travel with another family…you’re not quite so self-conscious.

This year (“to save me from tears…”), we’re again flying to Fort Lauderdale. And for the first time, Sherman will have his own seat. We’re taking his Britax car seat (which we need anyway for the rental car) and my hope is that he can/will stay in it the entire time. One of the worst things about the plane is changing a diaper so hopefully we can avoid that. I am looking forward to not having to hold him and constantly switch from Mommy’s lap to Daddy’s and back again. We’re taking a portable DVD player and new books and small (quiet) toys. It will take us longer to drive to Key West from Fort Lauderdale than it will to fly to FLL from Washington, but at least we can go at our own pace and we won’t bother anyone else. I’m optimistic.

I used to be one of those eye-rolling passengers that gave kids ugly looks on the plane. So yes, I deserve every ounce of travel stress and drama that Sherman can dream up. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. In that spirit, I give you these Commandments of Childless Plane Travel.

1. It’s a plane, not a spa. If you’re looking for deep-zen meditation, you haven’t paid enough for your business class seat, sweetie.

2. You have a choice, too. You know there’s a good chance (especially around the holidays) that there will be (gasp!) children on your flight. Some well-behaved, and some maybe not. If it’s that big of a deal-breaker, you could drive to your destination just as easily as we could. I’m not sure where you’re headed, but we’re just trying to get the hell off this plane and get to Grandma’s. I’m sorry if these two hours before you arrive in tropical paradise for a week of vacation aren’t exactly what you expected, but bite me.

3. No matter how badly it sucks for you, it sucks about 100 times more for the parents. It’s easy to assume that parents of loud/active children are oblivious to what their “little angels” are up to, but I find that most parents take every precaution possible in preparation for a smooth flight. Diaper changes, Tylenol dosing, smart selection of travel time (evidence: three million web pages about traveling with a toddler). The bottom line is, when the kid is crying and scared, you get to turn on your iPod and tune it out. That parent has to deal with their child (whom they love, and want to comfort) on top of the ugly looks and muttered comments, and does that sound like a fun way to travel? Especially when she’s paid just as much for her child’s seat as you paid for yours?

4. Just because a child whines or cries, they aren’t necessarily a spoiled brat. Before I had Sherman, I never considered that some children are just too young to even know where they are or what they’re doing. Those are the ones who sometimes handle planes the worst. An infant cries when she’s hungry, wet, scared, tired, etc etc etc. Not deliberately to annoy you. A toddler can’t sit still, and usually doesn’t have to, but you can’t expect a parent to put him in a straightjacket. Yes, an 8-year-old that kicks your seat or screams in your ear is out of control, and you can stew during the entire flight about how terrible his parents are, but you get to get off the plane and go about your business. That child will be a teenager one day, so count your blessings.

5. I didn’t design the plane. Most planes that we fly on have seats in groups of three. So if you have two parents and a lap child, or (horror of horrors) one parent with a child in their own seat, it means a stranger will be sharing intimate space with the little beast. It can’t be helped. That leads us to…

6. If you have a heart in your chest, at least smile at the kid. I was 100% guilty of ignoring children anywhere in my vicinity before Sherman came along. But now, I see my son piling on the charm and cuteness just to be ignored, and it makes me want to punch my seatmate. When a miniature face pops up over the seat in front of you to check out what’s going on, if you make faces or share toys, you will have one grateful parent up there who gets a few seconds of a break. On our first flight with Sherman, the man sitting next to me in our row had a video iPod. He kept leaving it within Sherman’s reach and obviously didn’t want him to touch it (neither did I!). COME ON DUDE, can’t you at least try to get it out of sight so I don’t have to wrestle him away from it every 10 seconds? I’M DOING MY VERY BEST HERE.

7. What goes around comes around. When I was pregnant, I sat next to a woman whose son threw up on her while they were in the cabin bathroom. I was okay until I realized her husband was 5 rows back in the exit row with the extra legroom. Why, exactly, am I sitting here dealing with this? One day, it will be your child or grandchild who loses his shit (literally or figuratively) in the airport or on the plane, and you will be grateful for anyone that either helps you or ignores you, but most of all, refrains from abusing you even more than your child already has.