Traveling South on a stormy Spring morning is never fun. But with a 13-month old it can be downright exhausting!

The alarm clock got me out of bed at 4:00 for my early morning flight. I hustled through check-in and security with a backpack, stroller and Boo-Boo tucked into my spiffy new Ergo carrier. Hubby couldn’t come on this visit to see my family so it was just me and my babe.

The first delay came after everyone had boarded the plane but before we left the gate. There were lightening strikes in the area. As the minutes ticked away I could feel my blood pressure rise. How long before he lost it and started crying? I could feel the sighs and worried glances from my neighbors. The women next to me shared their flight-with-children horror stories. But just when I thought I could entertain him with snacks and my cell phone no more, he decided to nurse to sleep. Thank you, Boo-Boo.

We got to our layover just as my next flight was supposed to be boarding. I waited for my stroller, cursing myself for even bothering to bring it. I raced to the adjoining terminal to my next gate. Breathless, I walked up to hear the weather delay announced. I could hardly hear over my own panting.

In a way I was a little relieved for the delay. It was one of those “check back in 30 minutes” kind of delays. There were storms blowing through our destination. I got myself together, ate breakfast, changed the diaper and got a coffee. We entertained ourselves with mechanical dogs, stuffed bears and an ostentatious staircase. He made it up and down twice.

By the time our flight was ready Boo-Boo was tired and cranky. I suspect a molar coming in. I waited to be one of the last people to board because i didn’t want to get him more upset. I pulled out his snacks, toys and books from the backpack so I wouldn’t be digging around like a fool after I boarded. Here’s what I brought in a little treasure bag; he likes to mystery of pulling stuff out. Next time I’ll bring one with a zipper, though.

Armed with distractions, I found my seat. Except that it was occupied by a small boy. Apparently his assigned seat was not next to his dad so he got my seat and I got the middle seat. The one next to the large man. And behind the reclining lady. Awesome.

After what felt like the longest flight ever, I finally made it home. Home, that is, to my parents’ house. I’ll be here for the next 10 days. Boo-Boo has already traumatized some cats and thrown everything on the tile floor to see if it bounces. He’s having a blast!


So how have your travel experiences been with children? What’s in your bag of tricks? have you ever felt the urge to lay down in the middle of the floor and cry (like they do)?

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