Hi, Non-Parents on My Flight!
Well, here we go again, I'm afraid.
I see you over there, ready to board, checking your email with one hand, sipping your Venti Caramel Macchiato with the other, looking bored. My god, what I wouldn't give right now for a free hand at this moment... just ten seconds of a free hand to cup that magnificent, caffeinated deliciousness...
Oops! You've just noticed me leering at your beverage. That relaxed look of yours (lemme guess -- you've got an aisle seat, am I right?) is beginning to tighten. Your eyes are filled with concern now, taking stock of the situation.
Double stroller. Two toddlers. Me looking stressed, weighed down with enough mismatched bags that I look like I should be pushing an overladen shopping cart down the street, muttering to myself.
I play it cool, of course. I wipe the stress from my visage, smile serenely, zen-like, and feign complete control.
My face, I hope, conveys the kind of reassuring lies that we've grown so accustomed to as parents trying to stave off fear in others: That my toddlers are actually just life-like animatrons which I will be powering down upon take-off. That my double stroller has the ability to fold itself neatly and quickly into a briefcase at the end of the jet way, allowing for your unobstructed entry into the cabin. That each of my bags can be compressed down to the size of a small tree nut and fit comfortably into my pocket, leaving the overhead bins free for other passengers.
I try to pretend, in other words, that I am just like you, my non-parent friend. You've got nothing to fear! Not a thing in the wor-- no, Lucy! Don't eat that -- Lucy! What is that thing, anyway?... Oh, jeez... Where did you even find tha... Well. Never mind. Everything is going to be just fine. False alarm, my non-parent friend! False alarm!
But it's too late. I can already see the look on your face. It's the look of sudden disorientation, like when you're having a grand old time at the circus and you accidentally wander into the tent where the tattooed fellow is trying to swallow his own arm.
My non-parent friend, let me assure you of this: I get it. I understand.
This may come as a surprise, but for 35 years, I, too, was a non-parent. (Wait for gasp.) And having been on both sides now, let me assure you that as much as you are dreading this flight, it's nothing compared to how much I'm dreading it.
Consider this: If there was a way to magically whisk my children back to Connecticut for Thanksgiving, I would do it. I would magic the heck out of those kids. But my choices were limited to leaving them in California with the dog (who tends to prioritize eating trash) or driving three thousand miles.
That leaves us with air travel, alas.
So I am going to do my best to get seated and situated on the plane with my 1 1/2-year-old Lucy on my lap and my 3-year-old Finn next to my wife, and begin the marathon of keeping our children from disturbing others.
Okay, I can see you have just boarded the plane, non-parent friend -- you've just made a joke to the air hostess. She laughs. (How happy you look right now! Cherish this moment!) Maybe you're with your girlfriend or boyfriend. A lovely couple, you make! You lead the way, glancing down at the boarding pass and up at the seat numbers, chatting happily to eachother like the carefree lovers you are.
Then you see us, ten rows away.
You see Lucy on my lap, trying to see how many of my eye-lashes she can pluck out, and next to me is my wife and next to her is Finn.
You pause to check your boarding pass, more panicked this time. You look up. Your lips move and you make tiny nods as you count the seats ahead. Your eyes widen as you realize you are going to be sitting right in front of us. Out of the corner of your mouth you'll whisper something, and your girlfriend's head pops over your shoulder, looking at our family, fearful.
You'll store their bags above us, and then you'll hesitate, presumably to work out who will sit in front of me and Lucy. You'll do that couple communication, where no words are needed, just intense stares and a slight fluttering of the lips and a dart of the eyes. Then you, nice young woman, will take the seat in front of me, smiling at me nervously the way that Scooby Doo does when he's run into the Swamp Monster and all he wants is to back out of there without any trouble.
Lucy will notice you, and lift up her hands and say "Bap!" in greeting, and you'll force a smile as you take your seat. I'll immediately notice that a few strands of your hair are hanging over the chair, and I know that for the next five hours I will be obsessing about keeping Lucy from grabbing those strands. Seriously. Obsessing about it.
And while my attention is on your hair, I won't notice that Lucy has kicked your seat.
Trust me -- I know exactly how annoying that is, let alone on an airplane, where every encroachment into your personal space feels like a human rights violation.
I'll quickly shove my mouth between the seat and say "I'm so sorry!" which probably freaks you out more because you're trying to talk to your boyfriend and suddenly these lips pop out between the seats, and you jump, and I'll sit back and try another apology and a friendly wave, praying that Lucy gives you a sweet smile or something. Usually she does. Usually that helps. And I try to distract her by encouraging her to jab her fingernails into my eyeballs.
And that's pretty much how the huge majority of parents are, my non-parent friends.
Parents dread these flights -- not because we don't want to be with our children, mind you. And not because we can't eat or drink. (We are unable to lower our trays, and trying to hold an open drink with a toddler on your lap or next to you is about as reliable as giving a Diet Coke to a Jack-in-the-Box, gently placing it on the lid and hoping against hope that the puppet can somehow avoid spilling it when he emerges from his tin box).
No, we dread it because we hate the idea that on a five-hour flight with two little ones, chances are at some point they're going to do something that frustrates you. I dread the feeling of being judged, and of my children being judged as bad kids because they kick the seat or they start crying out of sheer frustration at not being able to move for five hours.
Thus, here is my pledge to you, my non-parent friends on this flight.
I will spend the entirety of the five hours trying to keep my children utterly happy and occupied. Please understand that while I am quite a strict disciplinarian at home, there are times when young children simply act out. Five hours of sitting in the same spot for a young child who is used to hurling herself around the house like she has springs instead of legs, well, that's a challenge. Finn tends to step up to the plate in these times and be a pretty good boy, but he is far from perfect and may get frustrated himself and act out.
The fact is that we are willing to give our children ANYTHING they ask for if it buys some quiet time. Want some candy bars? Take 'em! More TV? By all means! I'd shave my own head if it meant Lucy was entertained and quiet.
We parents are on the highest possible alert. Every ligament in our body is tensed. Every game is tried, every snack is offered, every bribe is on the table. We truly want nothing more than to get off this flight without a melt-down, without disturbing everybody else, without the mortifying embarrassment that is always just a moment away.
That's what's happening in the seat behind you.
And if I may be so bold -- perhaps someday you, too, will have children, my non-parent friend. And you, too, will understand that whatever happens on that flight, no matter how good your children were or how frustrating they were, that at the end of the day, you'll still love them more than life itself.
And then, when your own children grow up and fly home to visit you for Thanksgiving, you'll listen to their complaints on the way back to the car about the screaming children on the plane, and you'll stop and give them a big hug them and tell them that you know exactly what they're talking about.
Follow Conor Grennan on Twitter: www.twitter.com/conorgrennan
The other piece of advice from the same friend was "let people help you". Because changing a diaper with a wriggly 2 year old while holding a baby at the same time in that tiny tiny bathroom is simply not possible. So my baby got to know a few of the other passengers and no-one was the worse for ware. In fact I think they all rather enjoyed his company - breaks the monotony of a 14 hour flight to have a smiley little face gooing at you.
Nonetheless, when I arrived in Sydney, I felt like the rocky soundtrack should have been playing.
The only downer was knowing I would have to come back again.
I did it with my own... Here's how. When your kids are tiny, you strap them in a car seat and take them for a few 8 hour drives. Trust me, these drives will be utter torture. They will fuss, they will scream, they will cry... But you simply ignore them. I mean you don't even Look at them when they are acting out. Somewhere in the middle of the second or third long distance drive, they will suddenly clue into the fact that, once they are strapped in that seat, that NOTHING they can think of will even remotely affect the situation. That all their hysterics are just a waste of energy and they will literally just check out... Fall asleep, or sit quietly watching the world go by.
From that moment forward, putting them in a car seat will result in their just checking out until the car stops. Even thru their teens, riding in the car will become nap time.
This is why native Americans used cradle boards.... Why Europeans of another age tightly swaddled infants... Once they learn that fussing won't get them anywhere, these measure Calm them.
Its essentially the same kind of thing parents often have to do to get kids to sleep thru the night.
It works.
There is a difference between a child in genuine distress, and a child engaging in willful manipulation to get what they want.
Children are not 'innocent'. They are optimized by evolution to figure out how to get what they want from their environment, and they will try ANY strategy, and will keep doing whatever works.
As a parent your Only power is that, during their formative years, you get to choose Which of their strategies you will allow to succeed.
Making sure they comprehend that histrionics get them Nowhere in life does't harm them, it matures them.
I said you ignore them when they misbehave. When they are calm and well mannered you can engage them all you please.
As to your comment about one or two year olds being unable to sit still for two hours or more... You are simply incorrect. mine could sit still for 10 hour or more if they were in their car seats. They never again cried or even fussed about it.
Your job as a parent is to Socialize your children, not so they will please others, but so they will move thru society competently.
Be it the power to sleep thru the night because, no, mommy or daddy won't come bounce you at any hour of the night just because you're bored....
Or the power to understand that sitting calmly and pleasantly gets you more of what you want than pitching a fit. ( and understand, children don't always want to be happy or pleased... Quite often they just want to have an effect on their surroundings, even if that effect is negative. )
When parents have your attitude, that they can't help it cause they are children, that's when children become experts at manipulating their parents.
And they learn to find entertainment in causing you emotional distress.
Parents need to be aware that children can feel empowered by making you Cry as much as they can by making you laugh. It still feels like controlling their world, to them.
You must be aware as a parent. Aware that Every behavior is your child trying to effect the world.
Then ask yourself... Is this a behavior that is admirable? Do I want to reward it, even by scolding? ( kids are rewarded to see parents go off...as long as They made it happen.)
Children crying in real distress should find out that that gets your attention. Children crying out if frustration or boredom should find out that doesn't even get a glance.
It doesn't mean you don't feed them as usual, it doesn't mean you don't interact with them when they behave. It means you don't reward misbehavior in any way.
And frankly, you are wrong... Children can sleep thru the night for ten hours without food, drink or a diaper change and live to see the sunrise.
My kids learned to sleep when they were in a car seat... Then later, whenever they were in the car...all the way thru their teens, because fussing got them nowhere.
And, don't feel sorry for them.. They are 29 and 31 now, and two of the most well adjusted people I know...
And, btw, all thru school I heard nothing but compliments on how well socialized and how mature they were for their age...
But, that's okay... You keep on indulging your own kids' every whim and whine... See where that gets you.
But my expectation is that you know your children, know their attention span, and understand their ability to be a reasonable companion for me for the next X hours. If your child isn't capable of that, then (barring, we're going to see the baby's dying grandmother so that she can hold her only child one time before she walks into the light, or a similar huge issue) don't take your child on the plane.
Simple as that.
Parents - do your best and forget the rest. Don't ever stay home because you're afraid to upset these types. It's more important that you are able to get where you need to go than it is for jk1865 to get his nice little controlled environment perfectly tailored for his own enjoyment (it is coach afterall). Anyway, these types will still get to where they need to be, and a little dose of reality may be needed to let them know that the world does not revolve around them. If they don't like it, then they can stay home.
Simple as that.
http://www.deathmetalmommy.blogspot.com
http://mileageofameanmama.blogspot.com/2012/09/from-mom-of-screaming-toddler-in-back.html
To other parents who are flying soon - take heart! We just flew for the first time in five years, and with four little kids. We only went because it was a family reunion. My kids are 7, 6, 4, and 2. The older three I knew I could count on, but I was very worried about the two year old. It went sooo well though. We ended up having a crazy trip, full of bad weather, cancelled flights, and missed connections. Depsite all that the kids behaved very well, and my two year ended up finding planes to be a good place to nap. We were on seven flights all together and everyone was really nice. All in all a pretty good trip!
P.S. Jet Blue was my favorite! Each chair has it's own private tv and remote...a big hit with my older two kids!
"I've been bumped off my flight home to see my sick grandmother twice because I'm single & easily bumpable. I just hope I get there in time to say goodbye."
"Great. I just had a miscarriage & here's a happy family sitting right behind me."
"I just spent the past 26 hours working a double-shift. I just want to get to {xyz} in peace."
"That's a cute family. (looks at mom) Oh honey, I feel ya. (sincere not at all obligatory smile)"
"Crap. I forgot to take my baby aspirin before the flight. Please God don't let me get a blood clot in my legs that travels up to my heart and kills me instantly."
"I love you I love you I love you. What a bunch of kids? Who ca- I love you I love you I love you."
So know that not all of us non-parents are judging you. Like you, we have our things going on & while, no, we don't have these with the added grrr of toting around tiny people, some of us have REALLY tried to join your exclusive club, some of us purposefully have done everything we can NOT to join your exclusive club, & some of us, quite frankly, didn't even notice you.