For anyone considering flying with a baby and a barely-two-year old, or one or the other, I’ve come up with some handy hints to help eliminate episodes of humiliation or desperation*. Having travelled in consecutive weeks to France and back to see my family and then to Spain and back to visit DaddyM’s family, I feel something of a seasoned veteran in easyJet flying with tots. In no particular order, here are some of my top tips, complete with anecdotal insight:
*Please note there is no guarantee you will neither despair nor be humiliated…
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Take a sticker book
One of my best uni friends, B, gave MiniM#1 a dinosaur sticker book when she came down for MiniM#2’s baptism and this quite literally kept her occupied the entire outbound leg of the journey to France and most of the way back home again. Ok so Mummy and DaddyM had to assist with dinosaur-sticking (helping detach each individual sticker and then making sure they weren’t stuck in the sky/ upside down/ or in the wrong section of the book) but it was well worth the effort. A happy MiniM#1 = happy easyJet passengers + happy Mummy and DaddyM.
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Explain the order of events carefully
Similarly to older generations, very young children are not so good at expecting the unexpected. They like routine and knowing what is going to happen when. But this is where the similarities with elderly relatives end. We’ve learnt the hard way that if you combine an overexcited, overtired two year old with an unexpected event – like having to fasten your seat belt when the plane starts its descent – they may put on a rather spectacular display of resistance. Even if they’ve been immaculately behaved thus far with afore-mentioned sticker book.
In our case MiniM#1 began screaming at the top of her lungs when we insisted she needed to strap in. Since she’d only turned two the week before, we asked the friendly air steward if she could be strapped to a parent like her younger sister. He dismissed this idea, calling in reinforcement in the form of another male member of the cabin crew.
All the while I was discretely trying to breastfeed MiniM#2: bearing in mind it is tricky to discretely do anything when you have a two year old screaming at the top of her lungs right next to you. It kind of attracts attention.
“I’m sorry but we will not be able to land the plane unless she is strapped in.” The friendly air steward was looking a little less friendly.
By now there were three grown men – DaddyM and the two air stewards – trying to restrain MiniM#1. Every time she kicked or let out an anguished wail, MiniM#2 would come off my breast and whirl her head around in wide-eyed wonderment to see what was going on. As would the people in the row in front. And those in the rows in front of them…
By this stage I was beyond feeling mortified. Instead, I began to find the whole thing hysterically funny. I just sat there laughing and trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to hide my face and breast from the astonished stares in our direction.
The air stewards decided it would be a good idea to give MiniM#1 a chance to calm down or the plane would need to start circling. As she sat there, puce in the face and shuddering from all her screaming, DaddyM gently leant across and strapped her in. Just like that. She barely moved; exhausted from all her exertion.
Before the return journey took place, we calmly explained the order of events that would take place right from handing in her luggage, with which she would be reunited upon arrival at Gatwick airport, through to folding up her tray table – and other such events – prior to landing. As such there was no more inconsolable anguish at seeing her beloved Bee Trunki disappear along the luggage belt at check-in, nor was there any more airborne resistance at inflight safety procedure. Everything went like clockwork once we’d told her what was going to happen. Give or take…
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Give timely feeds
You’ve probably heard that it’s advisable to feed babies (and give a drink to small children) when the plane is taking off and landing. Unlike adults, they are unable to make their ears pop by themselves when there is a change in cabin air pressure. The right time to feed a baby is meant to be when you can feel the pressure start to change in your own ears. However, I’ve now made a mental note to try to avoid pilot announcements during breastfeeds. Or rather wait until an announcement has just taken place before beginning a breastfeed, thus reducing the likelihood of one occurring mid-feed as happened when we were flying to Barcelona. Tucked away discretely (or so I thought) by a window on the left-hand side of the plane, MiniM#2 had just started to feed on my left breast when the pilot’s voice came over the tannoy; “We are now cruising at a height of 45,000 feet and are about to begin our descent towards Barcelona. If you look towards your left now you will see a stunning view of the French Pyrenees.”
The noise of the tannoy prompted MiniM#2 to jerk her head clean off my breast just as the entire two rows to the right of me began craning their heads around to stare through the window that my now bare breast was silhouetted against. I didn’t know whether to be amused or horrified as I watched the expression on people’s faces change from curiosity to embarrassment. -
Keep a close eye on your little darlings at all times
This may sound too obvious for me even to mention. Of course you’ll keep a watchful eye on them. Who would be dumb enough to lose their own children? *clears throat awkwardly*. Well we managed to lose MiniM#1 going through security at Barcelona airport…
At Gatwick security check we were spoilt. We each had an airport official helping us load our paraphernalia onto the conveyer belt. We managed to leave a large nappy bag and baby sling squashed under the buggy I was wheeling through the metal detector, but the kind official took apart the buggy to retrieve them and placed them on the conveyer belt, while I just stood there cuddling MiniM#2.
In stark contrast we were left to fend for ourselves at Barcelona. I was told to dismantle the entire buggy and actually place it on the conveyer belt. This is easier said than done whilst carrying a weighty baby in a sling. DaddyM, who was up ahead with MiniM#1, had put the other suitcases onto the conveyer belt and was being told to empty the coins out of his pocket and place them in a tray. As the larger pieces of buggy were carried into the scanner they began to cause an almighty blockage. More people kept piling on trays so that when the blockage was eventually released, objects began to shoot out the other side at high velocity. The tray with DaddyM’s loose change was tipped up vertically and our last remaining euros were sent showering everywhere.
DaddyM let out an uncharacteristically loud expletive and began scrambling around on his hands and knees to pick up the coins and other items that had fallen. I meanwhile, was trying to heave heavy luggage off the conveyer belt as delicately as possible given I was carrying a young baby in a sling.
When I’d finished putting the buggy back together, DaddyM had got up from the floor and was picking up the last suitcase. And MiniM#1…. Was nowhere to be seen. “Where is she?” I said very loudly. “She’s gone!” even louder. DaddyM looked as startled as I did and sprinted off towards the DutyFree shop.
“La meva figlia! Mi hija!” I shouted, glued to the spot with powerless panic. “Don’t worry,” a Spanish official said, “she can’t have gone far.” Time seemed to stand still and I felt sick, staring around stupidly but not seeing her. Then a rush of relief as I heard the words “we’ve found her, Señora, here she is.” But I was being presented with the wrong child. A bemused dark-haired girl was shoved in my direction, her parents looking even more bewildered. “That’s not her! Where is she?!” I wailed. Then suddenly, as if from no where ,MiniM#1 appeared. There she was at my feet, looking a bit scared. I scooped her up and gave her the biggest ever hug. She clung on tightly too. She was probably only missing all of 60 seconds but it was the longest 60 seconds of my life.
Now to find her missing daddy… -
Exhaust them so they sleep
On the return legs of each set of flights, both babies slept for a considerable chunk of the journey. It was bliss. DaddyM had a coffee and I had a tea and a kitkat and we flicked through the easyJet flight magazine. And looked at each other in jubilant disbelief.
Staying away for a few nights and breaking from their usual routine naturally exhausts very young children. In an ideal world I’d recommend exhausting them before the outbound flight too, but in practice this is harder to achieve. Travelling in the afternoon definitely guarantees they are more tired, but there’s a fine line between slightly tiring them – enough to be fractious and disruptive – and totally knackering them enough to sleep. -
Watch them as you pull along the Trunki
Trunki suitcases are a great invention for not only keeping small children entertained at airports, but also for transporting the child – and the suitcase itself – as you pull it along. However, if, like us, you chose to ignore the product warning of not being suitable for children under 36 months, I would advise you to turn your head 180 degrees to watch the child in question being trundled along. Even if it means that you yourself walk smack into someone. And not to be simultaneously pushing your other baby in a buggy, given the impossibility of looking backwards and forwards at the same time.
So it was that DaddyM was striding out of the luggage claim area with a trolley literally groaning with our luggage (baby paraphernalia combined with Christmas presents), while muggins here was pulling along MiniM#1 on her beloved Bee Trunki, whilst pushing MiniM#2 in front of me in the carrycot. The airport was heaving. I managed to negotiate the thongs of people and headed towards the exit doors. As I passed through them I heard a thunk and a wail. I turned around just in time to see MiniM#1 bounce off a metal pole and come tumbling off her Bee. I had pulled my poor daughter into a metal pole! Luckily we were traveling extremely slowly but I would strongly recommend exercising extreme caution when using a Trunki. - Travel at Christmas
Not only are the cabin crew full of festive cheer, but we were regaled with easyJet orange Father Christmas hats (had to end of a positive note after Trunkigate… )
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Calamitous Mummy 