One week ago, I was frantically running about the house in hopes of making that day's flight out. With some extra babysitting by my folks and cutting a few corners (to where now my mom is mailing us a box of forgotten tidbits), we made it to the airport. I was one of those dreaded non-rev passengers who shows up at the very last minute with too heavy of luggage, has to repack at the counter, forgets to tell them about the baby, and has to run back to the car and get the car seat to check. I remember those inconsiderate passengers when I worked for the airline.
Mostly, Zoralee did great flying. She nursed contentedly on take offs and landings for both flights. While they were revving the big jet’s engines for take off from Seattle, her eyes got round and confused, but she kept drinking. And when we our tires hit the ground in Anchorage, everything started shaking, including her head and my boob in her mouth. Very funny. I would've shouted for everybody to come see, but for the darned seat belt sign.
She was a ball of energy the entire time, other than a small nap in the Ergo that started in the Seattle airport while we waited to board and ended while we were on the taxiway. Otherwise, she needed to be entertained. We went from one activity to another, and it was great when something lasted on the order of minutes. I was utterly exhausted and my neck and back really tight by the time we hit Anchorage, from the combination of keeping her busy and worrying she’d be a nuisance to people.
Two best parts:
David met me at the Seattle airport! He drove there from Portland, on his out-of-the-way back to Montana, just to hang for our 2 hour layover. The guard, of course, wouldn’t let me hand Z off to him while I went back for food, so we talked on cell phones from opposite sides of the security hallway, looking at each other, the guard between us, making our meal plans, because we wanted something from inside of security while I was there. When we did meet up, David chased Zoralee around while I scarfed a fish taco and fries. We wondered what could be going through Zoralee’s mind, to all of a sudden see Uncle Dave in a totally bizarre environment, and then we get on another machine and fly away.
Zoralee was the most attentive passenger during the flight attendants’ presentation. She sat on my lap, facing forward, and her little head poked out into the aisle to watch this strange lady pointing and waiving and carrying on. She must've thought, “Now this is some sign language, Mom. You need to get with the program.”
In closing, here are some great tips for flying with a kidlet that Sonja had sent me ahead of time. She had just made a long flight herself with their first baby. I followed all of them except the night flight thing, since Zoralee is - - cough, cough, ha ha ha ha ha, ohhhh man - - NOT a good sleeper.
- Beg, plead and bat your eyelashes so you can get an open seat next to you - otherwise, plan to make quick friends with the person next to you because she'll probably kick them, grab them, or pull their hair if she's anything like Tate!
- Unveil a brand new toy on the plane.
- If possible and Zora's a good sleeper, schedule a night flight - I did that and Tate slept through most of it.
- If you're still nursing, dress so you can easily nurse for comfort from ear pain and/or bring her favorite sippy.
- Don't bring much - it's a pain to haul everything around.
- Bring lots of snacks for you - you'll be exhausted!