I’m not sure why, but I’m dreading our upcoming flight to
Dallas for Christmas.
Okay, I might know a few reasons beginning with my past
experiences witnessing others flying with babies. They are mostly not positive
ones with wailing children and their horrified, exhausted parents who are the
first to board, take the longest to get settled, and are the last to drag
themselves out of the plane like haggard old pirates emerging from a dark cave that never found the hidden treasure.
I avoided them as much as possible before I became a parent. Now I’m about to
become one of them.
So there’s that. And, since I’ve worked so hard at
establishing and maintaining my sweet son’s sleep schedule, I’m sure this trip
will blow it out of the water. What with relatives, airplanes, security, big
liquid containers, a makeshift crib-type bed in the same room as us along with
a white noise machine, relatives, visiting and eating and drinking and sleeping…
and relatives. What could go wrong? (insert hysterical, buggy-eyed,
strait-jacketed laughter)
I think the babe will be wide-eyed with joyous wonder at the
airport and on the airplane, since he’s such a social bee and loves people so
much. On the advice of my sister in law, I booked our flights near his naptime
in the hopes that he’ll comply and nap on the plane. No, it’s not the worst
thing that could happen if he doesn’t sleep. But the minute we land he’ll be on
his tippy toes playing with Grandma and being loved, cuddled, and pampered as
any baby should be – which will be wonderful as long as I can get him down at a
reasonable time.
The makeshift sleeping arrangements have me wondering which I’d
rather pack – Benadryl (for him) or earplugs (for me)? I’ve been looking at
those travel cribs (not the recalled ones) and wondering if that’s the way to
go – mostly because we’re planning at least one more flight before he turns 2. Or maybe it's not worth it, and I don't give my baby credit for being adaptable.
To allay my fears, I’ve started trolling baby travel
websites to see what I can do to prepare and avoid the worst. Now that I’m
feeling a bit more mentally prepared, I’m fairly confident we can ride it out
and I’m probably making it worse in
my head.
Probably.
Then again, maybe he won’t sleep on the plane, won’t settle
in a foreign house, will be overstimulated by relatives, and will be cranky as hell
which means we sure as hell won’t get any sleep for the four nights we’ll be
there which will pretty much mean the end of all sanity.
Probably.
