I stepped on an airplane yesterday and immediately saw the fear on my fellow passenger’s faces. I had a 1-year-old in one arm who was already covered in granola crumbs and chocolate smears at 6 a.m. My 4-year-old toted her bright pink princess backpack, jammed full of small toys and crayons that those passengers knew would be dive-bombing into seat crevices for the next four hours.
Anyone with an open seat anywhere near them suddenly tensed up, watching me closely to see if I would stop by them and say those fateful words, “This is us, kids.”
Oh, the power I wielded.
Little did they know, I was just as scared as they were. This was my first trip without my husband since our second daughter was born, and I was a little nervous about going it alone. When the pilot announced we’d be sitting on the tarmac for at least 30 minutes, I thought all was lost.
Before we even left the ground, we had gone through our food, littered the floor with Memory pieces and discovered that the princess backpack of endless entertainment “didn’t have anything fun.”
But I survived with relatively little collateral damage. I did have to confess to a flight attendant that the window and tray table in seat 14A were now decorated in magenta crayon. And I had to repeatedly pry my baby’s deathgrip off the woman’s hair in front of us. But overall, I think I did pretty well and I may even be brave enough to take the return flight home … maybe.
What are your best airplane stories with your children? Any tips for flying alone with kids?
Erin Stewart is a regular blogger for Deseret News. From stretch marks to the latest news for moms, Stewart discusses it all while her 4-year-old daughter crams Mr. Potato Head pieces in her little sister’s nose.