Geesh, is it the look of baby's stuffed bunny that has him so tightly wound? I haul baby into my arms and we walk through the metal detector, only to hear the distinct sound of the alarms going off. Gah! Why am I flying solo??
Very large security dude at Pearson Airport, Toronto: Ma'am, please stand back and remove your belt.
Groan. It's bad enough that he insists on calling me "ma'am." Now I have to place baby on the floor, remove my tightly woven leather belt from my too tight skinny jeans, and in addition, this process takes so long that the woman behind me actually asks if she can go ahead of me. Very large security dude was not impressed. Suddenly, my very short two hour plane ride to Halifax seemed like a huge endeavor.
My husband occasionally has to fly out west or out east for business. I thought when we got married I would benefit from said business trips and dine on the company's dime. We have been married for nearly three years now and I haven't gotten so much as a free brunch yet. When my husband came home a month ago and announced he was headed to Halifax at the end of the month, I insisted on going. With baby, of course. Our east coast friends wouldn't mind if I crashed at their house instead of my husband's hotel; we all have babies now.
I have never flown with baby. In fact, our once long, but relaxing car rides to the cottage have become tortuousness events because baby insists on staying awake the ENTIRE ride. How many verses of "Wheels on the Bus," must we be forced to belt out? "The grumpy old men take over the whole seat, take over the whole seat, take over the whole seat....."
I was sure I would need every available provision to make the flight as painless as possible. I researched on the internet (and by "research" I mean I put out an all-call to the moms and dads of facebook and asked for advice). I got some interesting answers: drug the baby, give the baby new books and activities to do, bring an ipod, bring a DVD player, take loads of snacks, and drink lots of vodka before the flight (for me, not baby). I decided to pack a small pink gym bag with goodies from the Dollarama. Baby went wild. We played stickers, drew with markers, read two new books, and ate a ton of snacks (not from the Dollarama-that would be gross). And I did it all completely sober. *breathes on knuckles and rubs on shoulder.
Baby and I had a great flight. He made friends with a sweet little 9 month old baby behind us and continually would reach his little hand in between the seats and reach for her. It was cuteness overload and the people seated around us thought I had the best little baby. I was beaming, baby was smiling (with his tooth sparkling like an all-star in a cheesy American movie) and we were even early when we landed. It was going to be a great trip. Take that very large security dude at Pearson Airport, Toronto.
