Don't Give Me That Look: yes, I am giving my kid Benadryl for the plane ride
My sister is about to deliver her third child in a third world country and I was not about to miss the momentous event. I didn't dare ask my husband to travel with me; we're grateful he has a job in these tough times. So I packed up my two kids, cashed in my miles and booked a business class ticket to Colombia. When I checked in at the gate, I was told that if my bag weighed more than 50 pounds I would have to pay an additional 50 dollars, and the total bag weight could not exceed 70 pounds given an embargo with Colombia which apparently does not affect travelers leaving from JFK. My suitcase topped the scales at 75 pounds so I quickly shoved five more pounds into my already heavy carry-on.
Both of my perfect angels were melting down when we boarded the first leg, screaming and kicking. I could see every passenger in the front of the plane role his eyes. They did not cash in all of *their* miles to hear two kids exercise their vocal chords for three hours. So I drugged them. I slipped a little Benadryl into each of their mouths and asked everyone to give me five minutes. It took less than sixty seconds for the drug to kick in.
Then I felt guilty that perhaps I offered them too much. But everyone's heart was beating normally and pumping their stomachs would be more of an inconvenience than the few tears I was escaping. A grandmother sitting across the aisle asked for my secret and immediately texted it to her daughter for future reference. I did not factor that my exhausted toddler would only be able to fall asleep on my lap which was difficult because her infant brother was latched to me in a Baby Bjorn.
Soon I was left with a tired i:e cranky daughter who wanted to roam the aisles. She befriended a man in the last row of our section and next thing I knew, he had scooped her up and she was napping soundly in his lap. Each time I leaned back his wife gave me the okay sign. I was fired up. The first leg was not awful and the second flight is the same length which I could certainly handle. I did have an new bottle of Benadryl. Despite being delayed in Miami and boarding the plane in the nick of time, I remained confident. The kids had their moments of tears on the plane and one woman in the front row turned her head and gave me the look. Every mom knows what I am talking about.
That look from people who either do not have kids or whose children have grown so much that they have completely forgotten that kids sometimes scream. Loudly. Of course I heard my son crying. Did she think I was ignoring him to watch the lame movie? Sorry Dustin Hoffman, even on a plane Last Chance Harvey looks lame. Those daggers in the eyes silently telling me to control my children or at least silence them. I shrugged my shoulders. The gags i had packed were confiscated by security. The tray tables were down and seats were not in an upright position leaving the Benadryl unaccessible. The crying eventually waned. I don't think it lasted as long as my son's wailing at his bris which people assured me was short even though it felt like an eternity.
Eventually the plane landed. I hustled off, one kid strapped to my chest, our the same carry on backpack that I used on my post collegiate travels on my shoulders, the toddler scooped in my arms. Any advantage I had in getting on the long immigration line was lost waiting for the gate checked stroller to be retrieved. By then the line filled with tired passengers from *two* flights waited in a single file. After clearing immigration with an exceedingly tired daughter who only wanted to be carried except when I put her brother in *her* stroller, we looked for my bag. Certainly it's mammoth size, overweight status and priority label ensured it would be waiting for me. Alas, I had to wait until all of the bags were unloaded to confirm that it was lost, along with many other people who were waiting in the customer relations line before me. What once felt manageable was now beginning to resemble the last .2 miles of a marathon. Eventually we emerged without another Benadryl emergency.
When I arrived at my sister's I passed the infant to a thrilled baby nurse and my niece and nephew began entertaining my daughter. Since we've been here, I have changed two diapers in as many days and am taking advantage of my sister's help. I need to rest up for the return flight home.
Original NYC Moms Blog post. When Helen P is not attempting lengthy travels with her children she blogs at Milf Alert and I Want a Book Deal
