So I took the baby on holiday. Yup, I did it. I've done it before, don't get me wrong, but I swore I wouldn't do it again until he could:
- be reasonable
- understand consequences
- have his own seat
- speak
Alas, he can do none of the above, but a holiday is a holiday so we went. It was an amazing few days away, and the two hour flight out was a joy. He wanted to be everybody's friend, and thank you to all the passengers who waved, smiled and nodded as he wanted to pat them (latest fad).
But the flight back... oh no.
So we go on the plane. So far so good. Then the pilot announces we will have a 90 min delay due to 'air traffic congestion'. The doors are closed, we have left the stand and now we have to wait. You know this moment, when every person with a child on the plane thinks 'get me the f**k off this plane'. You run through in your head:
- do I have enough nappies
- do I have enough snacks
- what if he poos all over his clothes
Cue 90 mins later and we are in the sky. Half way through the flight, he's tired and the whinge fest begins. A kindly Dad two rows behind comes over and offers some kind of dried fruit snack pack. I thank him whilst in my head thinking 'do you think he is crying because I got onto this flight with no food for him, are you insane?'. I smile and we carry on.
But then... oh no. We begin our descent and the combination of exhaustion and probably sore ears sends him into a rage. And I mean a RAGE. Said kindly Dad then pops back, just as the seat belt sign comes on offering more snacks. I decline.
Now as a WoMo, and under pressure of a raging screaming small person, I had to use all my self control not to say to him "reeeeeealllly?". Then the final straw. As we disembark his wife says to me. "I know how hard it is, when you are with them all day every day, then you take them on holiday and they scream. You feel like it's not fair don't you? Let's hope tomorrow when he's at home in his own routine, it'll be much better". I respond and say "I'll be back at work but it's been a great week". Her face falls and she looks at me and says "oh, you work".
I don't want sympathy for working, I love being a WoMo and just to be clear, it bears no reflection on how well behaved your child is on a plane. Hers screamed too by the way.
Maybe mine ate all her kid's snacks. Oops.