Don’t Stress, Your Flight With Kids Won’t Be As Bad As Our Chaotic Airborne Adventure

self insemination kit

As our plane began to roll down the runway, I felt a swell of pride. We had arrived at the airport with time to spare, I had only forgotten a couple of items, and I managed to keep my carry-on items to a minimum at security. My 5-year-old son was engrossed in his tablet, and my 8-year-old daughter was settling in for a movie. Turning to my husband, I confidently mouthed, “Could this get any better?” I was ready to dive into the in-flight entertainment.

Just as I was getting comfortable, the seatbelt sign lit up, and the flight attendant warned us of potential turbulence. “Turbulence,” I thought, chuckling to myself. “That’ll surely lull the kids to sleep!” Little did I know, my lightheartedness would soon dissolve.

The plane started to sway and dip, as if it were a puppet on strings being controlled by a careless puppeteer. I glanced over at my husband, who was checking to see if I was alright. I must have had a death grip on the armrests because sheer panic washed over me.

Trying not to alarm our children, I attempted to send my husband a silent “Help!” through my frantic eyes. He just shrugged, looking as helpless as I felt.

Then, the flight attendant made another announcement: due to air traffic issues, we were cleared to continue flying despite the turbulence. As the family’s designated crisis manager, I swallowed hard and turned to my son, who was still blissfully playing. Surely, he needed some comfort! I offered him a pack of organic gummy snacks because who wouldn’t want to adhere to a “no artificial” diet while in the midst of chaos?

“I’m not hungry,” he said, his voice shaky.

“You’re…not hungry?” I echoed incredulously. My typically ravenous child’s face had turned a ghostly shade of white. Then, he shoved his tablet into my lap and uttered the three dreaded words: “My tummy hurts!”

In approximately 3.5 milliseconds, all hell broke loose—by hell, I mean an eruption of vomit. It streamed out of him, soaking his clothes and pooling in his lap. If I hadn’t felt nauseous before, I certainly did now. My instinct was to leap from my seat and escape the splash zone.

Oh, did I mention that my son has a tendency to pass out when he throws up? He was there, covered in his breakfast, unconscious in his car seat, while I found myself awkwardly perched on my 8-year-old daughter’s lap, attempting to avoid the mess.

My daughter, bless her heart, uses a wheelchair, so there I was, a full-grown woman on the lap of my disabled child to escape my other child’s unfortunate situation. Truly, a shining moment in my parenting career, witnessed by an entire plane full of passengers.

Meanwhile, my husband—also a first-time dad—sprang into action, unbuckling our son and trying to clean him up before I could even regain my composure. Rallying myself, I rubbed my son’s back and blew gently on his face to wake him. Miraculously, it worked. He opened his eyes, turned slightly, and promptly threw up all over my husband, who then began to retch himself, prompting thoughts of skydiving to escape this nightmare.

Eventually, my son recovered and declared he felt “all better now.” Thankfully, there was an abundance of space to clean up all the mess. Oh wait, that’s not true. We had barely enough room to maneuver, and the floor was littered with the gluten-free pretzels I had thrown down during my earlier panic.

As my husband tried to peel his vomit-stained shirt off, I helped my son out of his clothes. The only spare outfit we had in our carry-on was a winter coat and a Pull-Up that barely contained my potty-trained 5-year-old.

By the time we landed, any semblance of travel competence had evaporated, replaced by the tears of a defeated mom. My now shirtless husband grabbed the puke-soaked car seat while I dressed my son in the only clean items available: mismatched winter wear and wet shoes that had been rinsed in the sink.

Together, we made our way down the jet bridge, where the Pull-Up promptly tore, leaving our son’s backside exposed. We then had to dash to baggage claim for a new pair of pants.

Best flight. Ever.

For more parenting tips and entertaining stories, check out our other blogs, like the one on home insemination and learn about how to boost fertility at Make a Mom. Also, for excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination, visit WebMD.

In summary, while flying with kids can be a daunting experience, it rarely gets as chaotic as my flight filled with vomit and panic. Embrace the chaos, and remember that you’re not alone in your parenting adventures!