I took my first flight on an airplane today. Mom and I flew up to Alaska for the holidays. Despite being warned, my mother still failed to leave the house much earlier than she would have pre-me (she is notorious for her close calls). As a result, we made it to the gate just in time to board. At least she didn’t have to run with me in the stroller. Thankfully, Dad got a gate pass and was able to help us get through security. There was a lot of stuff to send through the X-ray (stroller, Bjorn, diaper bag/backpack, laptop, breast milk)--thankfully not me; I walked through the metal detector in Dad’s arms. Otherwise, it turned out to be a breeze. No one so much as looked at us twice. I guess I don’t much look the part of a terrorist. Once at the gate, Mom said a reluctant goodbye to Dad and we headed down the jetway. Mom had me in the Bjorn and was also pushing the stroller. Of course, when Mom tried to close the stroller at the end of the jetway it conveniently jammed, something it has never done before. It took her several minutes and the kindness of a stranger to get it closed. Luckily we had upgraded to first class (I would have expected nothing less for my first flight), so we had a nice big seat to ourselves. All snuggled in the Bjorn, I fell asleep before we even pulled away from the gate. When the flight attendant came by, rather than commenting on my cuteness, she told my mom that I had to be removed from the Bjorn for take-off. When Mom asked why, the flight attendant told her that Mom could crush me if the plane crashed. I’m not sure how I would be safer, unsecured and flying around the cabin, but Mom partially unstrapped me to appease the flight attendant (Like me, Mom was skeptical of her “safety” reasoning). I slept right through take-off and for about the first hour of the flight. But, as soon as breakfast was on Mom’s tray and she was part way into a movie, I chose to make my presence known with progressively louder screams. Between trying to hold onto my wriggling form and all the stuff on her tray, Mom couldn’t reach the bottle in the diaper bag, so she put modesty aside, tossed a blanket over her shoulder, tucked me underneath and nursed me back to sleep. The rest of the flight was pretty uneventful. I slept through all of the bumps and descent. All in all, I’d say my first flight went pretty well. I can’t imagine why Mom and Dad were so nervous about it.
When I first started posting, I was a highly intelligent and exceptionally cute infant and the milestones were coming fast and furious.. These days, I'm a precocious nearly 5-year-old and my babybook blog has been retired to serve as a window to my early years..