A Horror Story.

You guessed it. It really was that bad.
I mean awful. Here is the play by play.

  • 4:20- We get to airport and smoothly check in. We make it to the gate with more than enough time to spare.
  • 5:15- We are having an impromptu picnic at the gate with a Starbucks fruit cup and Cheerios. Smiles all around.
  • 5:30- We are on board reading books, watching cartoons in the back of the seat.
  • 6:30- We split a turkey sandwich, get in are jammies and have a big bottle. Time for night night right? Wrong!
  • 7:00- 20 minutes of screaming. Blood curling screaming. Red faced, OMG I can't believe this is my child screaming.
  • 7:01- Projectile vomit. Everywhere. 10 ounces of bottle up. Turkey sandwich up. Fruit cup and Cheerios, you get the picture.
  • 7:10- Quite the scene. Me tearing apart the car seat and cleaning vomit from every corner of the airplane with some paper towels and antibacterial wipes. Liam being held naked by angel/mother of a 3 year old who is thanking god she is not me. Man sitting next to me having disappeared into thin air to a "special" no baby seat.
  • 7:30- Liam changed back into his clothes, and having another bottle. Screaming has subsided.
  • 8:00- Crying again. Man in front of me comments on what I horrible mother I am to subject my child to such torture. Me biting my tongue so not to get arrested after I verbally and physically assault the asshole who clearly does not have children.
  • 9:00- Still crying, both of us. Luckily his is not that loud.
  • 9:30- He finally passes out.
  • 9:31- Push call button and ask attendant to sit with sleeping child while I "pee."
  • 9:32- Lock bathroom door. Sit on seat and cry. Loudly.
  • 9:36- Back to seat = order strong drink.
  • 10:00- Drink in hand watch the Hills.
  • 10:30- Holy shit he's awake and crying. Pick him up and hold him like a baby.
  • 10:31- He's out again.
  • 11:30- We land, he wakes up smiling. Begins to smile and clap and flirt with everyone around. I continue to give stink eye to the asshole in the row in front of me.
  • 1am- Arrive home. Liam is smiling and acting like nothing ever happened.
  • 2am- We are both passed out. Me trying to forget the horror that had just taken place.
  • 7am- Liam wakes up, smiling. Damn these kids are resilient I think to myself.
I think traveling with an infant is like labor. It really really really sucks, and a week later it is a distant memory. The only difference? In a week we have to do this all over again. On a red eye.

I'm going to need a Valium and a big bottle of vodka for that one.