We flew to Utah as a family a couple weeks ago. Unfortunately, we also had to fly back a few days later. It was unfortunate because, duh--Utah, mountains, aspen trees in the fall, time with my sister, swimming in a crater... Isaiah even had a meltdown the entire car ride back to the airport (at 4:00 AM) because he didn't want to leave Utah unless we promised we were going somewhere else with mountains. But really it was unfortunate, because after the flights to get there, we were about ready to settle out West just to avoid the flights back East.
Flying with kids is hard. Traveling with kids is hard. Let's be real, life with kids is hard. This morning, I'm sitting in an airport alone on my way back out West, but this time I'm flying solo, and realizing just how simple EVERYTHING is. TSA was a breeze, going to the bathroom is a non-issue, and being on the actual plane was a relaxing peaceful oasis in my otherwise crazy life.
I should clarify though. Angie (16) is easy, she packs for herself, carries her own bag, and listens to headphones like the rest of the teenagers. Isaiah (3) isn't even too bad. He can be readily entertained for long stretches with games, books, or just by sucking his thumb and taking it all in. Paul (1), on the other hand, is a wild man in constant motion, challenged by the prospect of the cramped quarters to skip an entire nap at naptime in the vibrating white noise of the flying machine that even few adults can resist. His attention span is approximately 1 minute 45 seconds, and a 3 hour flight is made up of a LOT of 1 minute 45 second intervals. Also, under Paul's influence, Isaiah is convinced he should not be outdone by his brother in the shenanigans department. So, the competition of crazy ensues.
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If only airplanes had moving sidewalks like airports,
the boys could be entertained for hours, or at least 10s of minutes.
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I'm sharing all this to say that if you sit near a well behaved child on a plane, or even a mediocrely behaved child, their parents likely worked their tails off to make that happen for you. When people told me that our kids were so good on the flights, I'm sure I should have taken it as a compliment, and I probably did say the appropriate "Thank You," but what I meant was "You're Welcome!"
On one of our 4 flights, I think Paul and I were the only 2 people (other than the pilots I suppose) not to nap at all. You're welcome. What I wanted to do was let Paul run up and down the aisle squealing with delight, rummaging through your belongings to see if you brought him any candy while I closed my eyes too, because I had also been up since 2:30am like the rest of you passengers.
But what I did instead was contain him for an interminable amount of time in a 2' x 2' space on my lap/at my feet like keeping a baby velociraptor in a cage meant for a parakeet.
If you don't even notice there's a child on the plane near you till you deplane, or if you do notice, but you don't mind, you should give that parent a medal, or at least a hug. In order to be considerate to you those parents have (1) timed their child's sleep to optimize naps and crankiness, (2) packed enough snacks for a tiny army to keep the hooligans full, occupied, and their ears comfortable at the changing altitudes, (3) brought sufficient unique toys, games, videos, and books to hold them still for the duration of the flight, (4) planned for the novelty factor and made trips to Dollar Tree, Wal-Mart, and/or Amazon to have trinkets that will actually catch their toddler's attention, (5) visited the plane's bathroom possibly multiple times, so you wouldn't have to smell a poopy diaper or hear the consequent fussing, (6) restrained their slippery octopus in such a way to minimize kicking the back of your seat, pulling your hair, banging the tray table, and invading your personal space, (7) sacrificed their own personal space, rest, and a large portion of their sanity to stay on high alert lest their vandal escape their grasp and disturb your peace. (If said child is an infant, add 'nursing in a cramped public setting with strangers' to this list of extravagant endeavors.) So instead of giving parents the side eye when your seat gets bumped or a baby screams for a moment, maybe try giving them a break or an empathetic smile.
This morning, there was a family traveling with a 2 year-old and a 4 year-old in the row in front of me. After our short flight, I thanked the mom for working so hard to keep her daughter in good spirits. She told me this was the easy flight; their next leg was a 16-hour trip to Delhi!
I felt slightly called to abandon my own plans and join them in order to begin my new in-flight ministry of helping parents with their wild children. Instead, I guess I'll just start by encouraging the extra sleep-deprived, extra stressed-out parents I fly with, and offering to help whenever I can. I hope we can all become better neighbors to flying families. The least we can do is thank parents for their heroic efforts to maintain tranquility in the air. Actually, what I could do to launch my ministry is take my maniacs on random flights around the world and close my eyes for that coveted nap, demonstrating how toddlers would naturally behave unsupervised. Then we all might appreciate how unappreciated these super hardworking parents really are!
