Tag Archives: Babies

Becoming ‘That Family’: Adventures in Parenting and Flying

06 Friday Feb 2015

Posted by in Un-fun Up in the Air

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Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: BDL – MSP

Ah, the many joys of flying with a child. Where to begin? The ridiculous amount of items you have to pack? Standing in a never-ending line to check said items? Knowing that no matter what time your flight, you’ll disrupt at least a nap or a meal, if not both?

The biggest joy of flying with a child, of course, is the actual flying. We’ve flown with H basically every six months of his life: 6mos., 11mos., 1.5, and soon at just about 2 years. The wonderful thing about children this age is that they are continually changing, growing, and surprising you. Something that seemed insurmountable, unpronounceable, or simply unfathomable the day before is suddenly something executed with such practiced ease, you can scarcely remember a time you didn’t have a tiny person standing on your coffee table throwing crackers to the dog.

This also means that their demeanor, triggers, cheerfulness, and everything else can change in an instant, too. My child who was an absolute dream to fly with at 6mos. was a holy terror at 1.5…and this is our story.

En route back to Minneapolis from Hartford, we learned what it was to be “those people”. H had missed both a normal meal as well as nap time and things went downhill very quickly. It’s hard to comfort a child when you’re in a three-seat row and only have two seats. And when the seatbelt sign is on and you can’t get up. And when there is just no consoling to be had.

Basically, he cried for nearly an hour with nary a pause save to gulp air for more crying. We tried food, water, distraction, comfort, singing, iPads, a new diaper, pacing (once the light went off)…everything we could think of. I knew he was tired and I knew there was nothing I could do but wait him out: he’d either fall asleep from exhaustion or make me permanently deaf.

Luckily, the former won out. But not before I caught a few nasty looks from other travelers as well as overheard the woman in front of us ask the flight attendant if there was “any sign of it quieting down back there”.

Now, I’d like to pause here by saying that naturally, I have been annoyed by a child on an airplane. Who hasn’t? Particularly as I’ve aged and gotten closer to having a child of my own, I’ve tried to be charitable about it, especially when it’s a crying child (versus an under-supervised misbehaving child). That said, it grates on you. I get it. I’ve been there. I once flew from Amsterdam on a flight with a child who – I kid you not – cried the entire 8+ hour flight.

But here’s the simple truth I now know for a fact to be true: No matter how annoyed you are, the parent(s) with the child would do anything they possibly could to make it stop. The next time you’re annoyed by a child losing his tiny mind on your flight, please remember the following:

  • The parents know that it’s loud–it’s loudest next to their eardrum. Your exaggerated sighing is not helpful.
  • The parents know that it’s been going on forever–they are counting the seconds until the flight lands and they can escape your glare. Your reproach is not helpful.
  • The parents know that “some kids like X”–they have tried every trick up their sleeve and then some. Your suggestion is not helpful.

Here’s the thing about flying–it’s public transportation of a more expensive, annoying variety. You never know who’s going to sit next to you or what you’re going to encounter (this blog is testament enough to that). Like life, however, you have to try and make the best of it.

And for heaven’s sake, be nice to that poor parent. She wishes it was over, too.

At last.

At last.

A first time for everything

26 Tuesday Nov 2013

Posted by in Baby on board, It's not always so bad

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Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-LAX

Well, it finally happened; I flew with a baby and lived to tell the tale.

My very dear friend, Maren, got married in LA last weekend and faced with the option to leave the baby at home or schlep him halfway across the country, my inability to part with my firstborn won out and we hauled H to California.

how to fly with a baby

Three checked pieces, one stroller base, one carseat, one carseat base, two carry-on bags…and a kid

Now, I knew there would be a lot of stuff to take with him but I don’t think I really realized the extent to which I’d have to completely recalibrate how I packed and prepared. Instead of streamlining to have all carry-ons, I accepted we’d be checking luggage and packed enough diapers for a month (because clearly there aren’t stores at which one can procure diapers in California). Rather than double-checking I had headphones for my iPad, I checked and re-checked that we had Penzey the Pirate (a beloved pirate rattle – yes, he’s named for The Pirates of Penzance). In lieu of ‘vulturing’ the boarding queue, we frantically packed up the stroller and carseat in their carrier bags before getting on the plane. In short, it was a completely new experience for more than just the baby in tow.

We set out nice and early for the airport and were shocked and pleasantly surprised to nab a front-row parking spot in the Gold ramp which made unloading all the easier. Once in the terminal, we were off to the Delta check-in counter where we were again surprised by how smoothly everything went. We felt somewhat lighter once we had checked our three suitcases but there was still plenty of baggage on hand.

gate-checking stroller

Gate-checking

At the MSP airport, the big Delta checkpoint by door six has a family lane through which we were expedited. The best part of this was that it meant we got to go through the pre-check scanner and thus not remove our liquids or shoes. I typically pride myself on how few baskets I need to get through the security conveyor (one in summer, two if I have a heavy coat), but it was almost laughable how much conveyor space we needed this time. E was a football field away by the time we got everything loaded.

Baby H was then introduced to the wonders of the Delta lounge where we had a nice long break before we had to board for LA. He enjoyed looking at the lights and people as we walked him around and even nodded off for a brief catnap.

Finally, it was time to see if H would continue the good-naturedness he typically displays once up in the air. I’m thrilled to report that he did great. The flight had enough empty seats that they were able to give us all three seats in our row which gave us a lot of extra space and comfort. I must say, overall I was incredibly impressed with Delta and their accommodations for flying babies–they definitely made a tough situation much easier.

After this maiden voyage with the bebe, I feel I’ve gained some pearls of wisdom, including:

  • Check what you can. In retrospect, I think I would have opted to check the stroller/carseat mess rather than gate-checking them. On the one hand, it’s nice to not have the baby in a carrier or sling the whole time you’re in the terminal, but gate-checking all those items was a real pain (especially upon arrival when everything has to be re-assembled).
  • Go early. This one we did right. Although we were three hours early for our flight to LA, I’m glad that we weren’t trying to rush through security. Accommodating as everyone was, I can’t imagine how anxiety-ridden the experience could have been.
  • Fly direct. I know it’s not always an option, but getting on and off the plane was ridiculous enough without having to do it all twice. It’s worth the cost to fly from point A to B in the middle of the day. When you’re sitting in front of a computer booking the flight, it’s easy to debate the merits of saving a couple hundred dollars by taking a 6 a.m. flight or connecting through Chicago but it is NOT worth it.

All in all, it went a lot better than I expected. Once I gave in to the situation and realized this would not be the efficient travel to which I’ve grown accustomed, everything was great. ‘Let go and let [travel]gods’: Words to live by.

Plus, little H earned his wings:

Wings!

Wings!

Pumps on a Plane

30 Monday Sep 2013

Posted by in Seatmate Shenanigans, Un-fun Up in the Air

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Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: SNA-MSP

Apparently very confident after last week’s trip to Detroit, I was back in the air Wednesday morning and off for a quick trip to California.

Although the trip itself was short, a flight to Southern CA is no joke. As I knew I’d arrive and have to get moving right away (on both legs), I broke it to myself that I would have to pump en route. In an airplane bathroom. I did not take it well. If you find yourself in a similar situation, here are my tips:

  1. Plan ahead. Although I was pleasantly surprised to find the plane had an outlet in the bathroom (how have I missed so many opportunities to re-straighten my hair in flight?!), this is not a guarantee. Thus, I purchased a battery pack for the pump as well as eight rechargeable batteries and a battery charger. I also brought a small cooler bag with frozen gel packs. (TSA will check and they must be frozen solid at security.)
  2. Get over it. As I realized in my trip to Detroit last week, you gotta just suck it up and roll with it. I don’t like talking about bodily functions with strangers any more than the next person, but I forced myself to get over it. I told the flight attendants what I was doing so that they wouldn’t beat down the door wondering why I was taking so long or try to make me take my seat if there was turbulence. (I also told them as I hoped they might let me pump in their flight attendant area in the back of the plane but no such luck.)
  3. Make others get over it. On my flight back, I caused quite a back-up of people trying to use the bathroom. Of course I felt bad that I had made them wait so long but I don’t have a lot of options here (see #2 above about hoping to use the flight attendant’s space). I walked out to find about 10 men glaring at me so I just held up the little bottles and said, “Sorry, baby business.” A few turned red. A couple gave nervous chuckles. I think we were all friends after that but you know what? I don’t care. A plane is a flying bus and we’re all doing our best to cohabit and get to point B.  Sorry that you have to fly with other humans.

Aside from pumping adventures, there was some other flying fun as well. First was the head flight attendant, Steve, who gave a very funny little diatribe about shutting off devices at the start of my flight home: “Ok people, I need them turned all the way off. You’re not clever just turning it to airplane mode. Let me tell you a little story about a guy who didn’t turn off his phone last week. His seat neighbor turned him in and now he’s on the FAA watch list for two years. So let this be your cautionary tale because today is my Friday and I don’t want to fill out that much paperwork. Just turn ’em off.” Message: Received.

Also on the way home, I sat next to a very old woman. Very. Old. She was nice enough but probably shouldn’t have been left alone in a middle seat (graciously, her son and daughter-in-law were sitting up in first class. The son sort of offered to switch seats with her when we were about an hour away from Minneapolis. She declined.). She spent most of the flight reading tabloids (favorite headline: “I’m the real life Tin Man”) and loudly hacking and sneezing into tissues which she methodically shoved under her legs until the end of the flight when she carefully drew them out from under her and stuffed in an air-sick bag. It was amazing.

Our pilot told us several times that we were going to arrive early in Minneapolis which could only mean that something would happen to ensure we didn’t arrive early after all. Just when I was thinking he might be right, literally seconds before we were going to land (the engines had been cut and everything), we abruptly aborted the landing and pulled back up into the air. There was some nervous chatter as we quickly climbed back up into the air before the pilot came on to tell us there was a plane that took too long taking off and was still on the runway when we were supposed to land. Neat. He also told us (once we were safely on the ground 10 minutes later) that it was only the second time in his 35-year career that had happened. Double neat. Please bookmark this under “Things I never want to hear from my pilot.”

At any rate, home once again, I’m looking forward to staying put. At least until next month. Which is tomorrow.

Back in the saddle

26 Thursday Sep 2013

Posted by in Fun with Security, With love from the Tarmac

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Trip type: Personal-ish

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-DTW

Hi. I’m back.

Isn’t it cute how I thought I’d post some old stories while I was out on maternity leave? Six months and one baby later, I’m back–and back in the air!

Concrete jungle

Concrete jungle

Last weekend found me getting my travel sea legs back under me by jetting off to Detroit for a Junior League conference (how thoughtful of them to have it so close to home for my maiden voyage!). I had been looking forward to the trip and dreading it in equal measure for a while so I was surprised to find it finally upon me last Thursday.

Compounding my anxiety about being away from H for three nights was the added stress of figuring out how to transport breast milk back [If this is not your cup of tea, you might want to cut out of this post now. Sorry, dudes.] Consider this post a how-to for moms who pump and fly.

Packing Tips

  1. In preparation for coming home again, I bought a soft-side can cooler which said it held about nine aluminum cans. I figured this should accommodate three days’ worth of milk stored in plastic bags. I also bought two Medela hard-sided bottle cold packs. I figured these would give some structure to the many bags and not get condensation like a standard cold pack.
  2. Made it home with the whole stash!

    Made it home with the whole stash!

    At the hotel, I made sure there was a refrigerator in the room. There actually wasn’t supposed to be one when I called ahead to ask, so I requested it. (Don’t worry if you don’t remember to request it, however; they sent me a nice little confirmation and everything only to forget to actually do it and had to send one up post check-in.)

  3. I packed my pump bag in a larger bag. I figured when I came back, this larger bag would hold the pump and the cooler bag. This greatly confused the TSA agent:
    “A big in a bag, eh? What’s in here?”
    – “A breast pump.”
    “A what now?”
    – “It’s a breast. Pump.”
    “Oh.” And then he dropped it like it was hot and he was Snoop.
  4. Obviously, you’ll also need plenty of bags, a pen for marking, and a Ziploc bag to transport pump pieces to and fro. Oh, and I wish I’d remembered a cover but a scarf worked just fine.

I actually had a very nice time pre-flight at the airport and especially appreciated the woman with whom I bonded at Surdyk’s who told me “Motherhood is a sisterhood–all my love to you on this first trip away” when I got a little bleary eyed looking at her five-and-a-half month old.

A view from Saturday's booze cruise

A view from Saturday’s booze cruise

Naturally, the flight out did not go smoothly. Due to a fast-moving storm, we were grounded for about a half hour and then pulled out of line to re-route. Twice. It was not awesome. Just when I was starting to wonder if I’d be testing out the pump’s battery-powered abilities in the airport bathroom, we were off. Crisis averted.

Although I knew TSA policies would be on my side, I wasn’t sure if all the agents would be fully accommodating. At DTW on Sunday, I went to the Pre-Check lane and was delighted to find myself all alone with three TSA agents. I wasted no time announcing to the first agent that I had precious cargo and he loudly relayed the message to his two counterparts. The agent working the conveyor did go through my bag (“Wow, it’s labeled and everything!”) and swab it for explosives but it was smooth sailing other than that. I was very relieved to get everything transferred home successfully.

It was a little weird to be back in the air. Everything felt familiar but oddly surreal. It was like using an arm that’s fallen asleep to brush your teeth. You know you’re doing it right but it feels really strange. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it again soon.