Thursday, August 9, 2012

Flying Babies and Flying Pickles

We've traveled with The Kid on a few occasions. He's been to the beach and his grandparents' homes a few times.  At first, it was easy.  Notice the "at first".  That's called foreshadowing folks.  We'll get there.

Our first trip was to my parents house and it was smooth sailing.  The Kid slept peacefully in his carseat, we arrived, we visited, we ate, we drank, we were merry.  He even slept 6 hours straight at night for the first time ever.  I was thrilled.

I didn't understand why parents complained about traveling with kids.  I said the same thing about going out to eat with him. He slept the whole time.  The loud background buzz of the restaurant lulled my sweet angel child to sleep.  Passersby would coo at the rosy cheeked sleeping cherub, then wink at us in admiration of our awesomeness.  Waitresses would comment how "lucky" we were to have such a good child.  We beamed.  We ARE awesome parents we said.  Such naturals.

 "No, you are just such a good mother," my husband gushed.  "Aw, honey, I can't take all the credit, you are the best dad," I said.  Other parents are just weak we agreed.

Then it happened.  I'm not sure what "it" is.  But it happened.

My sleeping child awoke. He now must be entertained at all times. He now loves to imitate velociraptors in the middle of a restaurant. And gnaw on tables and bounce in his high chair and throw sippy cups and grab at forks and eat menus and rub food in his hair.

"Pick. Up. His. Damn. Sippy. Cup, " I say through clenched teeth. "Can you finish your meal so you can hold him so I can shove this burger down my throat and we can get the hell outta here, please?"

"He just threw advocado on their table.  No, no, don't look. Maybe they won't notice, " my husband whispers.

I wouldn't call what passersby do now as winking...more like wincing.   Maybe in pity. Maybe in annoyance.  I can't tell. I'm too busy trying to stop my kid from grabbing the pickle off my plate and chucking it at the old lady at the next table.  Don't worry, we clean up our messes and leave the waitresses huge tips. They could pay off their college loans with the guilt tips we leave.

And for the car trips? Now he screams in the back seat or when he does sleep the whole trip, he's awake most of the night.

We've tried traveling in the morning...then he's awake most of the night. We've tried traveling during the afternoon...then he's awake most of the night.  We've tried traveling at night...then he's awake most of the night. Are you seeing a pattern here?

Our last "vacation" not only included a 6 hour drive and a time change, but darling son also decided to throw teething in the mix just for the fun of it.  He refused to sleep in his pack n' play.  He refused to go to bed before midnight.  He demanded to wake up at 6 am every morning. The Kid's dad slept on the couch for 5 nights and when I say "couch" I mean loveseat with a lump in the middle.  And when I say "slept" I mean napped between shooting pains in his lumbar. Vacationing has taken on an entirely new definition.

In 3 weeks we fly 4 hours to New Hampshire. Tips and prayers for sanity always appreciated.

Snakes on a plane my ass.  Babies on a plane...I'll have nightmares about this one for weeks.

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