Bab-E Brother Takes Flight

So last week Bab-E Brother made his maiden airplane voyage.

Given how things went with Little Brother's inaugural flight, I'll admit Mom-E and I were a little apprehensive.

And the fact that that the ~3 hour flight didn't leave until pretty darn close to Bab-E Brother's bedtime, well that nudged us from "a little apprehensive" to "downright panicky".

I'm sure some of you are saying "give him some Benadryl". That's just something we're not comfortable with. Plus, knowing our luck, the Benadryl would have the opposite effect and he'd be wired.

Turns out, he was wired anyway.

And being pretty new to ambulation, he wanted to walk.

Down the middle aisle of the plane.

For the entire flight.

He didn't care about the snacks we brought, the toys, the crayons, or the barf bag. Apparently our laps have invisible "don't sit here" tattoos.

And if we didn't walk with him, he pretty much screamed. (And it probably wasn't his ears, because we did give him some motrin to help with that.)

I know this seems like I'm picking on Delta, but I promise I'm not trying to single them out. I'm sure the same applies to other airlines. And I promise I'll end with a compliment.

But the flight attendants didn't help.

Apparently they need a little more education about children.

Like how to tell the difference between boys and girls.

The flight attendant kept asking us (multiple times), "Does SHE take a pacifier?"

Okay, 2 things here:

1. In case you need a refresher, if the child is wearing these, they're probably a boy


And if the child is wearing these, they're probably a girl


Not to mention that as a boy, Bab-E Brother, well, looks like a boy.

2. Don't you think that if he did take a pacifier, that we would've already given him one. (Everything we did try to give him was thrown at 23B. Sorry, sir.)

3. Okay, three things. Maybe it's just me, but if you park the snack cart in front of a 15 month-old and hand out cookies and drinks to everybody BUT him, he MIGHT get a little fussy and protest. Maybe. I'm just sayin'.

And if we weren't already a little perturbed that the flight attendant kept calling him a girl, she then proceeded to ask us "Wow, is he the most hyperactive of your boys."

"Umm...No. Actually he is the most easy going. He's happy that we remember to feed him."

"And apparently there's a whole world of people who must be unmedicated for ADHD because they...I don't know...LIKE TO WALK, or something."

Time to put ritalin in the water, apparently.

Needless to say, I was quite relieved when we de-planed, so that the steam pouring from my ears could evaporate more easily. Even if that meant having to install 3 car seats at 11:00 pm in the dark, being "cheered on" by tired, screaming small men. (Fortunately, no one learned any new words.)

And despite the challenges of the return flight home, we had a much better experience.

Apparently these flight attendants had taken the course.

It's amazing, but some eye contact, a smile, and a few kind words make a HUGE difference with children on the plane. And no questions about if "she needs a pacifier" make a huge difference for Dad-E's. For that, thank you.

And an A+ on your gender-specific jammie recognition skills.

At the end of the flight, the boys were presented with "pilot wings" that they promptly pinned on their shirts (and have yet to remove).

So, congrats to Bab-E Brother on earning your wings. We'll fly with you again (so long as you're buying.)

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Busy-Dad-E