Don’t Be “That Guy”: Lessons Learned from Flying Cross Country with an Infant
It’s a weekday afternoon and I’m walking at a glacial pace. The little hand I’m holding/dragging has decided that she will walk herself to Terminal B from Terminal D in the Charlotte Douglas International Airport.
I’ve got my bag on my back, her bag on my arm, & a line of sweat dripping down my back. With her size 5 feet in sneakers she insisted on putting on herself, I know it will be miles to go before we sleep. As I pick her up & she shrieks, drawing glances or glares from everyone we pass, I think I better settle in-this journey is just beginning.
Except it isn’t just beginning. We’ve been at this since 3am.
Hours later, as I’m scarfing Bojangles & trying to convince my little tyrant toddler to eat some scraps for Momma, I start to reminisce like Clark Griswold in the attic on simpler times.
As a single gal, I loved to travel. What was not to love?
Airplane mode brought that unique satisfaction of being unreachable.
Solo travel allowed uninterrupted time to dive into that book you’ve been wanting to read.
Who doesn’t savor the crackle snap of the Diet Coke being poured over ice 30,000 feet in the sky?
Let’s not ignore the socially acceptable practice of resting your eyes at 10am.
Got a layover? No problem. You can sit at a bar and have a drink. Because it’s 5:00 somewhere and there’s no rules of etiquette here.
I awake from my misty eyed longing as Maddie flings biscuit pieces across the terminal.
Traveling with kids is a whole different animal. It’s a unique kind of hell to fly in the sky with a child that doesn’t want to listen to reason. And to be fair to my Maddie, it’s hard for kids too. Nobody’s having a good time here.
Hindsight is 20/20. If I had to limit my perspective to one piece of advice, it’d be simple. Don’t do it. That’s it, that’s the advice.
But sometimes life happens & you have to fly with your kiddo & your partner can’t be there.
Or you don’t have a partner.
Or you’re just thinking “How bad can it be?”
Be forewarned & take heed…you don’t want to be “that guy”.
”That guy” looks like a jackass (& feels like one too). Allow me to introduce you.
1. Don’t be that guy that brings a car seat on the plane.
Car seats are heavy.
Carrying them from a far spot in the parking lot is hard.
Carrying one down 35 rows above your head is worse.
The plane waiting to taxi to the runway until you figure out how to buckle in said car seat is as anxiety-inducing as parallel parking in front of a crowd.
Let your kid feel big for a day & buckle them up tight.
2. Don’t be that guy that thinks “We are above screen time.”
When your kid is wiggling out of your lap, dealing with time zone changes, throwing their snacks, & saying no to every toy you strategically packed, you’re going to be praying for Miss Rachel or Bluey to pinch hit for you as a parent.
Don’t be a hero. Be a friend.
Do everyone a favor and have some good content locked and loaded.
3. Don’t be that guy that doesn’t appropriately consider meal times.
Ever been caught on a runway?
Ever faced turbulence or snow?
Ever had a delay?
That’s part of the flying experience. Plan for it.
Ever been hangry?
When a 16 month old gets hangry? They go blind with rage.
Protect yourself at all costs. Carry snacks up your sleeves & milks in your pockets.
4. Don’t be that guy that thinks they’ll save money bringing everything themselves.
You won’t. We did the math.
Bag fees add up.
Shipping stuff home is worse.
Leaving it on the side of the road so you don’t have to deal with it anymore is the biggest waste.
You’ll be a spectacle. And always in the way.
Rent what you need & forget the rest.
The good news is, we arrived home safely.
Nana saved the day with hot food, a helping hand, & a calming presence for both Mom & baby.
Was the experience hell? Yeah.
Would I do it again so Maddie can see the world? Of course I would <3
