Flight of the Screaming Baby

I love to travel. I especially love to fly and have flown alone so many times that I have a little routine. Get there early, get a People Magazine, some cashews, water, and sit in my seat and enjoy the flight with an occasional nap. Of course there are many things that I don't like about travel, but I think this love developed out of a sense of adventure. I know that after a few hours I'll be somewhere new and exciting where I can explore, enjoy, and experience something fresh and different. It is the anticipation of a new adventure.



I hope to instill this anticipation for a new adventure in my children, and I decided to start out with a small adventure. We moved and I decided that there is no time like the present to start flying with my 11 week old. We check our bags, took the stroller, and headed immediately to purchase my magazine, cashews, and water. We got on the plane and had minimal difficulty. I had the sling and pillow for baby travel ease. I held off nursing so he would be swallowing when we took off and minimize uncomfortable baby ear popping. Then the pilot came over the intercom and announced that we were going to have to sit on the runway for an hour. I turned to my mom to make sure that is really what I heard. So much for the plan. We finally took off 2 hours later and I was starting to get claustrophobic. I had pick a simple one hour flight to slowly build to longer flights with a baby and this was going all awry. My love of travel was ebbing away and I was starting to panic.



We fly, land, and start to taxi toward the gate. We stop. The voice comes over the intercom again and announces there is more delays and we have to wait again on the runway. Disaster starts to strike. The little one starts to get cranky and nothing can stop it. I try to get up to walk with him as his wails get louder and get slapped down by a very cranky stewardess. He gets a dirty diaper but they have locked the bathrooms since we are "on an active runway" and cannot possibly let anyone move. An hour and 1/2 later the screams of my poor child I am sure are getting on everyone nerves. I now hate traveling and start to profusely apologize to everyone around me. The man next to me tells me that he is sure that when a baby is colicky it is a good sign that the baby is going to be of superior intelligence. The man behind me informs me that it is okay because the baby is just expressing how we all feel. I almost cry out of gratefulness that strangers who should be angry at me and my child instead turn around and bless us. The love of travel starts to slightly resurface.



We finally get off the cursed plane and gather our luggage. We made an hour flight in a mere 6 hours. We get in the car and head out into a new city with new adventures waiting for me. The child is still screaming so the adventurous spirit is only treading water, but it is in full force after a good nights sleep.

I want to take a trip with the babe in the fall. I might just be brave enough or crazy enough, I am not sure.