I’ve Never Wanted to Jump Out of a Plane Before

Let me just start by saying that traveling with children can be an interesting experience.  We took Wyatt on his first plane ride when he was about six months old.  Our pediatrician had recommended giving him a little Benadryl before the flight, so we did.  It was great. He fell asleep each time the airplane took off and woke up as we were landing. All four flights.  Brooklyn and I went on our first plane ride this last weekend.  You know that nursery rhyme that goes “….and when she was good, she was very, very good.  But when she was bad, she was horrid”?  Yeah, that kind of applies here.  Brooklyn has been a much healthier baby than Wyatt, which may explain why I am not so liberal with the medicine-giving with her.  Wyatt had sinus infection after sinus infection when he was little, so Benadryl was kind of a staple in our house.  Brooklyn has had one cold so far, and it lasted like 2 days.  I didn’t even think about the whole Benadryl idea this time around.

On the way to our destination (Green Bay-more on the trip later), Brooklyn was an angel.  The plane took off and she was asleep in my arms, bottle in her mouth.  She woke up as we pulled up to the gate, fully refreshed.  Sweaty, but refreshed.  She traveled via Baby Bjorn through the Minneapolis airport, we found our connecting flight and were on our way to Packer Land.  Although she did not sleep on this next flight, she smiled and flirted with everyone in her sight. What a good baby! people proclaimed Is she always this good?

Then there was the trip home….

September 15, 2009. Flight #1.  Green Bay to Minneapolis.  Time of flight: 45 minutes.  Time to torture all passengers and crew: 1 hour 20 minutes.

As soon as we were seated on flight 3910, Brooklyn was PISSED OFF.  It was past nap time and we both knew it.  Let’s go let’s go let’s go! I kept muttering as the flight door remained open well past our scheduled departure time.  At this point Brooklyn was wailing at 5 million decibels, arching her back, failing all of her limbs, and refusing a bottle.  Planes get so hot and sticky just sitting on the runway before the air comes on, and she wasn’t having it.

**I should probably apologize to passenger 6D for my baby kicking her seat repeatedly the entire flight.  Sorry about that. I really tried to control her little kicking feet, but I was more concerned about her head continuously ramming into the side of the plane.  This made her scream louder than kicking your seat. I needed to prioritize.

Finally, when I thought I could take no more, the final passenger comes through the door of the plane, finds her seat (directly behind us) and screams loudly “SORRY WE ARE LATE EVERYONE! IT’S MY FAULT!”  She paid for her lateness the entire flight being seated behind us.  She smelled like Italian salami, which on most days would make me throw up in my mouth a little, but on this day all I could think was Maybe everyone will be so disgusted by her stinkiness they will forget about the screaming baby in my lap.

When we finally were on the runway preparing for takeoff, I thought for sure Brooke would pass out.  She was obviously exhausted and NEEDED A NAP.  She started drinking her bottle and I felt a wave of relief come over me.  That is, until she finished her bottle and WAS STILL WIDE AWAKE.  Only now, she was more pissed off than before.  The screaming and thrashing continued.  She refused to take any more milk, and the closer I held her to me, the more she fought me off.  She clawed at my face, attempted to rip the book out of the hands of the man next to us, and shook her head from side to side like a wet, rabid dog.  I considered hitting the call light for the flight attendant and begging her to take this strange child away from me.  If you can imagine being trapped in a 2′x3′ box with a screaming banshee, you might begin to understand how I felt.  Oh yeah, and you are naked and everyone is staring at you.  That’s how bad it was.

When we were finally getting ready to land in Minneapolis and I was holding her so tight to my chest so she didn’t hurt herself from all the thrashing, I kept thinking WHY ARE ALL THE CARS STILL SO SMALL DOWN BELOW?  CAN’T HE LAND THIS AIRCRAFT ANY FASTER?  WHERE’S A PARACHUTE WHEN YOU NEED ONE? I tried squeezing my eyes shut as tight as they would go to try and block out the nightmare I was living.  I felt the wheels touch down and I looked down at Brooklyn and watched her pass out.  From sheer exhaustion.

As we pulled into the gate, the man next to me says, She finally fell asleep, huh? My first words spoken to him the entire flight were, I am so so sorry. She really needs a nap! He smiled politely and replied, That’s OK.  I just turned my hearing aids off.

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