Flying Alone With 2 Babies

I am finally ready to talk about my experience flying to Tennessee and back by myself with both girls. I was pretty terrified of the whole ordeal before I actually boarded any planes and let's just say, my fears were realized. It was a pretty terrible experience. One that I will never encounter again if I can help it. I have an intense fear of flying so even without all of the crying and not-pooping and drunk guy, flying is never fun for me. But add the crying, not-pooping, and drunk guy and my experience went from bad to really freakin awful.

The Crying

The flight to Tennessee was less bad than the flight returning home. Beatrice was a perfect angel and played happily with Barbies, my laptop, and everyone around her. Penelope was not so happy. She cried nearly the entire time. Thankfully, there were a few other families with babies on the plane so I got a lot of sympathetic looks. The returning flight however, everybody cried. And by everybody, I mean Beatrice and Penelope and no one else on the completely full flight. I was the only traveler onboard with small children so I received no sympathetic looks. Just looks of be-quiet and please-make-that-baby-stop-crying.

Not-Pooping

Beatrice poops like twice a week. She waits until the very last minute, gives me a look and whispers, "I need to go." She gave me the look at the Nashville airport 30 minutes before we boarded our flight. I was so relieved since she hadn't gone in a couple of days and really didn't want to deal with taking her to the tiny plane bathroom. We went to the airport bathroom 3 times with no luck. I bribed her with everything to no avail. Once we boarded, she gave me the look and whispered she had to go. 5 tries, all false alarms. I was a nervous wreck thinking she was going to have an accident on the plane. Not to mention, it was a huge ordeal getting in and out of our seats.

Drunk Guy


On the returning flight, a tall, quiet guy sat next to us. He made small talk, talked to the girls, and read his book. Then he started to drink wine. Lots and lots of wine. He very quickly went from nice, quiet guy to belligerent, drunk guy. I wouldn't have minded so much if he didn't cross personal space boundaries by touching all over Penelope, hollering incoherent things at Beatrice, and finally passing out on me. For 2 hours, his heavy, lifeless body flopped onto mine. He had the aisle seat so we were trapped. By the time we landed, I was certain he was dead. It took several minutes and a few people to rouse him.

I was never so relieved to de-board a plane. My nerves were shattered, my body sore, and I was exhausted. I vowed to never fly alone with the girls again. I don't think they are too eager to fly anytime soon either.