Before we commence with our regularly scheduled programming today, please go read this post and take your moment of reflection for Memorial Day. You back? Okay, on with the show . . .
I must tell you, my friends, that Cubby? STELLAR traveler. He probably whined less than I did during all the flying and switching planes and running around hither and yon in New Orleans.
Of course, he was being carried or pushed in his chariot all the time, as well as being fed on demand, so what did the kid have to cry about, right?
For real, though, the child exceeded all my expectations for good behavior. My expectations actually included the foregone conclusion that he would scream the whole time we were on the planes, as well as fuss day and night the entire trip because we were away from home. But apparently, I'm the only one who fusses when away from home.
He seemed to like the chaos and noise of the airports, adrenaline junkie that he is. He slept most of our in-air time, and when he wasn't sleeping, he was cooing and playing. Or rather, watching while I played with toys on his behalf. There were a few shrieking episodes, mostly when I wasn't getting him to his milk supply fast enough (he didn't care that I was wedged into a minuscule airplane seat as well as trying to cover myself with a blanket so as to preserve my modesty). But overall, two big thumbs up.
He slept pretty well the whole trip. I woke up a lot to listen and make sure HE wasn't waking up, but that was my problem. He smiled and cooed and played nicely with all the new people who wanted to hold him. He mostly cried when we were inside air conditioned places--which is EVERYWHERE in New Orleans. But bring the child outside into the sticky heat and he was oh so happy. I, on the other hand, was a sweaty mess the entire time, but as long as Cubby was content, what did that matter? My mother, who may be the person genetically responsible for Cubby's love of disgusting heat, took many a lap around the hotel with the little dictator in his chariot, bless her heat-loving heart.
And then, when we got home, he actually slept the ENTIRE NIGHT. Which meant that I slept from 9:30 p.m. until 5:30 a.m. And good LORD, did I need that. He must love his mother after all.
I'm not saying I'm raring to go anywhere far away with Cubby anytime soon, but I have to give him props for just going with the frantic flow around him the whole trip. So thanks, Cubby. You're aces, kid.
7 comments:
I remember our first airplane trip with Kate so well, even though it was 17 years ago. She did great on the plane, but she screamed non-stop at our friends' house because she was unaccustomed to being in a play pen. At one point, our host pointed at her and said "How long is she going to keep doing THAT?" Yeah. Never take an infant for an overnight stay to the home of a couple with no children.
By the way, the same couple adopted two kids a few years later and I was TOTALLY VINDICATED. So there.
I'm so glad to hear that he was a trooper! What a relief. And letting you sleep the whole night when you got home? Awesome.
The first flight is always an unknown. I'm glad he was so good for you. I'm even happier that he slept through the night! Go Cubby.
Good to know he will behave whilst out in public. :)
I guess all the awake time during the day helped him sleep the night through along with being exhausted by all the new people holding him and all the adoration. :) Beth
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You have no idea how lucky you are. I took my older daughter, then 1-1/2, to Pakistan to meet her relatives on her father's side. More than 8 hours crammed into a charter airline with no room to breathe. Then in Pakistan, Farida refused to go to anyone but her father and me. It was a long, long, long, long 3 months.
May Cubby continue to be a world-class traveler.
Thank goodness for you. I know that in my never-ending internal debate about whether or not to have children this issue weighs heavily on my mind.
I travel frequently and even though I try to be as gracious as possible when it comes to people traveling with small children, there's only so many hours you can listen to someone's child scream without seriously considering smothering them with a pillow and punching the parents in the face.
Meanwhile, I sat directly in front of Cubby's polar opposite on my flight home from Arkansas. Why can't more kids be good travelers? Or, more specifically, why can't more kids be good travelers on the flights *I* take?
Good boy.
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