After the flurry of hugs and kisses and greetings from loved ones, the burning question everyone asked was: How was The Babe on the flight? The truth is he was lovely. OK. Yes. The first 20 minutes sitting on the plane were less than perfect. My guess is that The Babe was aware he was about to endure anywhere from 2 to 10 hours of sitting pretty much in the same place and he wasn't thrilled about it. We tried everything we could think of to distract him. Toys, books, snacks. I even tried explaining to him that all these people didn't know how wonderful he was and that he was scaring them to bits, but this did nothing to stop the tears. I'm sure that in those 20 minutes of crying every single passenger within earshot rolled their eyes and, with a sigh or a groan, did there best to resign themselves to a noisy kid on the flight.
Then the plane would take off and he became a whole different kiddo. I'd snuggle him close and breastfeed him and in no time at all he was asleep. On the shorter flights he'd sleep the whole time. On the longer flights The Babe would wake up, we'd walk around for a bit, and he would charm the pants off of everyone with smiles and waves.
We have a habit of being the last off a plane if we have the time and several people commented on how good he had been. I couldn't help but hear relief in their voices and see gratitude in their eyes.
sitting on the plane at Heathrow waiting for
The Babe's very first flight ever
movie time with Daddy
right before takeoff, which he slept right through