Ever had the pleasure of being on a road trip with a toddler? No? Let me fill you in.
You start off by playing games, any game will do, as long as said toddler is occupied. Half an hour in, he doesn’t really want to play games anymore, so you move on to books – reciting the words “kitty, shoesies and nana” (that’s a banana for all of you not schooled in baby talk), over and over again. Soon, the books become boring and you resort to pointing out the window at random strangers in cars saying very eloquently, “look man drive car.’
Before you know it two hours have passed and you’re patting yourself on the back for a job well done.
And then you smell it. Yes, it’s the ever dreaded ‘stinky.’
Most responsible, well-adjusted parents would mark this as cause for a pit-stop and a nappy change. Oh no, not me. Why stop? Rather, I decide that it really couldn’t be that difficult to change an uncommonly tall toddler, in a moving vehicle, on the tiny half of the seat you have left.
It’s not pretty and your hands will never feel quite as clean again – that’s all I’m saying.
So finally, after six hours of being on the road, you arrive at your destination, exhausted, flustered and with various snacks down your shirt. You made it. Mental high five.
Now, imagine that experience multiplied by 500. Yep – that’s what I’m in store for. Come Friday evening, we’re leaving on a jet plane – hubby, baby and I… we’re flying for eight hours, stopping over somewhere for two and then completing a whopping 15 hour flight. That’s 23 hours of flying. With a toddler. In a plane. A closed plane. There is no escape.
Excuse me while I step out and panic for a second. Sure, I’ve done the research – ‘flying with toddlers is easy peasy’ they say, no stress, no hassle. Right. Sure. Of course, why wouldn’t it be? I mean, a highly pressurized cabin, very little leg room, no space to walk and a hundred annoyed passengers who just want you to go away – why wouldn’t that be easy?
Nervous? You bet you.
Advice? Please, I’ll take anything.
Ready? Not a chance.
Wish me luck…I’m pretty sure I’m going to need it.
Deanna spends her days buried in a jumble of words and her nights trying to balance family life and everything in between, all while doodling the name Grohl on her notepad and watching reruns of Supernatural. If it’s on TV, she’s seen it. If it’s the latest fad diet… she’s tried it. She’s got a lot to say.