Written by: Mindy July 19 2011 Well, Chloe has officially starting racking up frequent flier miles. Or not, I guess, since she didn’t technically have a ticket for our recent flights. We took a family […]
Written by: Mindy July 19 2011
Well, Chloe has officially starting racking up frequent flier miles. Or not, I guess, since she didn’t technically have a ticket for our recent flights.
We took a family trip to Iowa last week. My close friend, Anna, who’s like a sister to me, married her partner in a relaxed, hippie-ish, lovely summer wedding.
I’m glad I went. Really, I am.
I’m not glad I was a bridesmaid, though.( I’ll tell you more about that in a future post, but I have one word as a preview: Floppy.)
But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me back up to the airport.
Since Caden is still under 2, Cam and I were able to bring both kids for free. We were stoked because friends had told us we were essentially guaranteed a whole row to ourselves (we flew Southwest, so seating wasn’t reserved).
The guarantee was because each row only has four oxygen masks. If you have two parents who each have a lap child and sit beside one another, you’re calling dibs on all the masks. Meaning, nobody can sit with you.
Awesome! Or, so we thought.
As it turned out, our entire flight was completely booked by actual, paying customers. Because of that, the flight attendants told us we couldn’t sit next to each other. Darn them for figuring out that if you separate the two parents with the two lap children, you can get two more customers in each row!
Luckily, this arrangement worked fine—at least, for the flight there. Fortunately, my parents were on the same flight, so they sat behind us and we passed the kids back and forth depending on who needed attention and who needed to eat.
For the flight back though, we were on our own. Sans my parents. “No problem,” we thought. No way we’d have a full flight on a slow Monday afternoon!
Were we wrong? Yup. Did we have to sit separately? Yup. Did Chloe poop as soon as the plane took off? Yup. Did I leave her in her massively poopy diaper for the entire three-hour flight? Yup.
Cut me some slack—there was no way I could have changed her on my lap. It was a blowout. And the plane didn’t have a changing table. And it’s not like there was a vacant seat next to me.
It wasn’t a problem, though. She and I both slept like—er—babies the whole flight!