Before becoming a mom, you dreaded sitting near a mom with kids on an airplane; it made you want to walk the plank. It was worse than being placed near the bathroom. At least with the bathroom you could bury your face in your shirt and use it as a filter to block out the toxic molecules that tainted the air. Having a child near or behind you was a different story. Internally, you wanted to have a breakdown and cry. It wasn’t fair; why did you have to be the one to get that seat? Your heart would race so fast, almost having a mini panic attack.
You would look around trying to find an open seat far away, ready to pounce on it like a lion jumping on a gazelle. If you weren’t lucky enough to move, you would give a mean side-eye to the child. It was to let the child know, don’t cut up, I have my eye on you. No, the side-eye wouldn’t work, but in your mind, you figured hey, at least the child won’t look in my direction. You had one goal in mind: make it through this flight without snatching your brain out of your skull. Oh, how the tides turn when you have your own child.
I talk about The Airport Flight Warrior in my book. Confessions of a Rock-Mom: The One With the Messy Hair and Smudged Lipstick. If you spot another mom with their child waiting for their flight, you automatically want to do a fist pump. Your eyes connect and it’s that silent I know how you feel moment. With this being Carters first flight, he did great! Cheers to sir Carters introduction to flying the friendly skies...So far so good.