There are a few things in life that I dread: a looming root canal from my dentist, the squeaking sound of styrofoam being rubbed together, a suspicious looking piece of sushi from the take out counter…  And now I have one more thing to add to my list: long plane rides with my toddler son, Jasper.

Plane travel with Jasper actually used to be relatively easy. Other than the copious amounts of baggage I could not (and still can’t) seem to leave the house without – huge bags packed to the gills, “essential” baby items, (yes, at 3 months, lugging the bouncy chair EVERYWHERE we went was a necessity) – flying with Jasper never stressed me out that much.  He would inevitably just eat his way through the flight and then conk out in my arms.  Even a solo trip to San Francisco when he was 5 months old (with a transfer in Denver no less) went relatively smoothly, aside from the discovery that many US airlines do not have changing tables on board (not good!)

Now, however, it’s a whole new ball game in the world of plane travel.  At 14 months, Jasper is the definition of a ball of energy.  Trying to get that kid to sit still for more than 5 seconds is a stretch, so you can imagine that a 5 hour flight to Vancouver looming on the horizon for us came with some anxiety. When I decided to accompany my husband, Jeremy, on his business trip to the Whistler Hatley store, and bring the baby, it seemed like a great idea.  I had not been to Vancouver since Expo ’86 (LONG time ago!), so it seemed like a great chance to visit with some family and friends, see the sights and catch a little of the Olympic fever that is sweeping the city.  I considered the long flight, but thought, I’m sure it will be fine…  If we leave around his bedtime, he’ll just sleep.  As the departure day grew closer though, I started having second thoughts about the whole thing: the long flight, time change, trying to pack for a week away, it all just seemed like a risky prospect, but alas, tickets were booked, so we were going.

With all the tight security at airports lately, we arrived sufficiently early for our flight and sailed through security (traveling with babies does come with some perks) and having my husband with me made a huge difference.  By myself, I have often had to hand Jasper off to complete strangers or bewildered security agents as I wrestle to unfold the stroller or rescue the lone squeaky Sophie doll wedged into the car seat.  There is definitely strength in numbers, so traveling with Jeremy makes navigating the airport significantly easier.  As we settled into our seats onboard the flight, I thought, this won’t be so bad…  It’s already 6 P.M., Jas is exhausted after skipping his afternoon nap, so he will for sure fall asleep soon after take off.  I brought out all the board books I had packed for entertainment so we could start flipping through the pictures, ignoring the wary stares of fellow travelers who could only foresee a very long flight with a screaming baby in their future.  No need to worry, I wanted to tell them, look how tired this kid is, he will sleep I promise!  Funny thing about my son, however, is that sometimes the more tired he is, the more riled up he gets.

We thought the flight was leaving on time, but after 15 minutes of no motion whatsoever, the pilot finally came on to say they were still waiting for some passengers, and if they didn’t arrive soon they would have to remove their baggage, shouldn’t be too long.  Oh crap, delayed.  Not good for my cause of getting Jasper to fall asleep.  With blaring lights and no motion to lull him into slumber, this was a recipe for disaster.  Lots of wiggling started to ensue, then board books hurled on the floor and over seats.  Jeremy started to walk him up and down the aisles, as more passengers looked on with trepidation.  A half hour later, the pilot came on to say we are ready for take off, but now they needed to de-ice the plane.  All of a sudden our 5 hour flight is turning to 6, and we hadn’t even left yet.

Finally, lift off.  An hour plus behind schedule, but at least we were airborne.  Please Jas, I whisper, settle down, time for sleeping.  Fat chance!  He was so full of energy at this point, crawling all over me like a Mexican jumping bean, trying to get the glasses off of the face of the poor man trying to read his paper behind us.  High pitched giggles turned to inexplicable wails for no reason, milk bottles were hurled down the aisles.  The stewardess came by for drink service and looked at me with pity and slight annoyance.  “Having trouble falling asleep, huh?”  Ya, you think?  Got any tranquilizers on that drink cart, I want to ask?  Jeremy and I do five minute turns with the wiggling wonder, handing off to each other in exasperation after each shift.  Finally, about an hour and a half after take off, the eyes flutter, the wiggling begins to subside, then, could it be possible?  Yes, he is asleep.  I don’t even want to breathe with fear of disturbing the sacred slumber.  My fellow travelers offer congratulatory looks that barely hide their own relief.  This is a big victory for everyone.

So, we made it in one piece.  It wasn’t a great flight, but sure could have been a lot worse.  Jeremy gave Jasper a B for his performance.  We are still here in Vancouver having a great time, this truly is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever been to.   The Whistler store looks amazing, and what a fun town.  And aside from the rain, the balmy weather feels positively tropical compared to the sub-zero nonsense back home in Montreal.  But with two days left, and all I can think about is the trip home…!  Wish us luck!

Tagged: Travel