This summer has started off with a big bang! We had our first family vacation when we went on our Alaskan cruising adventure, then we went on our first family road trip to central California to visit with family. As we rushed around packing and stressed out at the airport, it occurred to me how much more complicated it is to travel with a little one. It adds a whole new element of worry that I didn't anticipate. Anyone who has had the unfortunate experience of flying with me knows what a horrible traveler I am. For some reason, as soon as the automatic doors spread open at LAX (or Heathrow, San Diego, SFO, Atlanta, etc.) and I walk in, I lose my mind. I become this confused/stressed whirlwind who mutters his gate number over and over as I pace around the terminal waiting for my row to be called to board. Then when I get on the plane, I am not much better as my palms begin to sweat and I question the pilot's training and whether the plane is properly maintained. Then, as the plane's engines power up, I wait to hear the clunk of an engine falling off the wing. So you think its better when I'm airborne? Wrong. Instead, I spend the duration of the flight tense and sweaty waiting for the pilot to announce some kind of emergency landing all the while staring at the guy in the row in front of me that is asleep and has been since he sat down and I think about kicking his seat until he wakes up partly from jealousy and partly because he should be awake since he is sitting next to the emergency exit and should remain vigilant in case we should need his services. Then... the landing. The sounds make me wish I was deaf and all I can do is contemplate my quickest escape route should the wheel fall off the plane as we land and come to a sliding stop on the runway. For the most part, the whole experience I described occurs internally and people around me are unaware that they are seated next to the worst plane passenger in the air. So you can imagine what adding Jaycee to the mix did to me. As if pacing around the terminal wasn't enough, now I had to push a stroller in circles with me. My escape plans became more elaborate and I was forced to plan who I would have to push out of the way should the inflatable slides pop out of the sides of the plane. The funny thing is, for the most part, the 20 some flights I have been on have been basically difficulty free (knocking on the biggest piece of wood in the room repeatedly) and safe. I am aware that my thought process is irrational and unnecessary, but I really can't help it. I wish I could.
With all that behind me, I can proudly report that Jaycee is the ultimate traveler. It took her all of 5 minutes to figure out that the plane was awesome and that she could flop around like a monkey while staring out the window that gives her a view from 37,000 feet. Then it hit me like only a lesson from Jaycee can. This is what being a parent is about. Inside you could be a wreck on the brink of meltdown, but on the outside your kids would think it is business as usual. Don't mean to toot my horn, but I think I accomplished that much. I guess I am happy once we land at our destination and should try to focus on that, right? Here's to the sleeping guy in the emergency row and anyone else who reads this story and laughs. For those of you not laughing... we should start a support group...
Seriously...
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