{"id":2411,"date":"2016-09-28T20:22:55","date_gmt":"2016-09-29T00:22:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/solbeam.com\/?p=2411"},"modified":"2016-10-18T19:36:13","modified_gmt":"2016-10-18T23:36:13","slug":"the-dualistic-nature-of-plane-travel-with-toddler-plus-pro-tips","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/seekingsol.com\/the-dualistic-nature-of-plane-travel-with-toddler-plus-pro-tips\/","title":{"rendered":"The Dualistic Nature of Plane Travel with Toddler (plus pro-tips)"},"content":{"rendered":"

There’s no less than 9 literary journals in my suitcase, but not even my thin and beloved litmag<\/a> made the top-10 for my carry-on on this family trip. Occupying that precious space, instead, is an arsenal of sly snacks meant to pacify, occupy, and null-cry. \u00a0These treats are meant to inspire curiosity and copious amounts of chewing, otherwise known as not-whining, not-biting, and not-screaming. Because the world of travelling-with-toddler IS purely dualistic, where almost every minute falls into the category of okay or evil. If I find a micro-minute of buoyant, observant, equilibrium, it will sound a bit like this in my head:<\/p>\n

“Oh my god. The baby has been successfully constrained in a semi-reclining position and is almost closing her eyes. The toddler is hidden, and quiet, in the “tent” underneath our legs. This is it! A moment of peace, descending upon me this very second! Is it truly happening? Has it happened already? Oh no, it’s almost gone! Wait, it’s still here….”\u00a0\"img_2546\"<\/em><\/p>\n

Then the piercing screech of a near-sleep baby as the toddler pushes the baby’s errant leg out of his way. Needless to say, peace has fleeted.<\/p>\n

When the stewardess passes, she dares ask me if I’d like something to drink. I briefly wonder what about my situation looks like it should have a top-heavy, precariously placed, plastic cup (with spiky spinning instrument) on top of it. And then I catch myself being impatient and rude, and politely decline.<\/p>\n

There’s a balding man in front of my husband’s seat who clearly has no children, nephews, nieces, neighbor families, or pets. While I’m not the type to pass out prim packages of ear plugs with thank you notes, I am exceptionally aware of and sensitive to the discomfort of those around me and am quick to put on my extra friendly and apologetic game. But this man has turned his head around ten times before the plane has even departed, in suggestion of his disgust with the not-silent and not-still children behind him. My children are standard-bad, but not more than that. \u00a0“Yes!” I want to shout at him. “They are caged beasts desperately in need of free-range play! That’s the very reason we’re going to an island for six weeks: to unleash them!”<\/p>\n

Rant ranted. Let’s get practical:<\/p>\n

Airplane Toddler + Baby Pro Tips:<\/strong><\/p>\n