Flying with the wee one

As you may know, I have been on my holidays for the past week…hence the radio silence!

In order to get to our holiday my mother, myself and Isaac flew. It was only a short flight (About 45 Minutes to be exact) but boy was I nervous. I have not done any real traveling with Isaac since he was about 4 months old and considerably less mobile than he is now!

I started thinking about the logistics of this flight months before it happened. The whole issue was that the whole family were going to Balmoral for our holiday, staying in a little cottage in the grounds of the castle, lots of land and walks tyo enjoy ourselves on (no the Queen was not there…this year), Balmoral is however a 9 hour drive from where we live and my  brother-in-laws 30th Birthday coincided with this too!

After much discussion it was decided that Roy would take the car to Sheffield on the Friday and then meet us in Glasgow on the Sunday, giving me some time to see my family. As I had no car my mother and I decided to fly…it was that or a really long train journey…no thanks!

It was decided that it would be best to fly around Isaacs bed time so that he would be a bit sleepy and more relaxed which meant arriving at the airport with enough time to give him his dinner before boarding. Sounds easy doesn’t it?! As I was not gpoing to have a car and we were able to take two baby related hold items it was decided the best items to bring would be the buggy and car seat (my wonderful Aunt, Uncle and cousin had sourced a travel crib). My mother and I were able to bring a cabin bags (Isaac was not allowed one despite me having paid for him to sit on my knee). I therefore needed to fit all of mine and Isaacs items for the Friday night, all day Saturday and Sunday into one cabin sized bag…goodness me what a struggle this was. No only did it all need to fit but his formula, snacks, nappies and toys all needed to be easy to access and prefrable in aother bag that could be removed and stashed under our seat for the flight. This was an epic battle for me, it was a real sit on the bag and get some one else to zip it.

Was the struggle over? Was it heck?!

We arrive at the airport for check in a couple of hours before our flight, join a queue…said queue moves at asnails pace and it dawns on me in a fit of panic…I’m not going to be able to give Isaac dinner at this rate and he will lose the plot! Daddy has to run off to M&S to get an emergency dinner for Isaac before going back to the car to drive to Sheffield from Luton Airport. One giant samosa and massive mess later we were still no closer to the fromt of the queue, at this rate I’ll be missing my flight, thanks Easy Jet! 

Finally, we’re at the front of the queue. We have our car seat and buggy tagged and are in such a fluster about getting through checks that we agree to haul the buggy, car seat and two heavy bags all the way to the plane…what a huge mistake! I ended up with the car seat perched on the hood of the buggy, one hand below it to steer and one above. No time for food, had to buy sandwiches then power it to the gate.

A flight of stairs to get down to the gate…are you kidding me, no lift….seriously?! Does the airport never expect to reciweve passengers in buggys or something?! I can help you down with the buggy if you like….um yes I would like, I can hardly just push him and hope for the best now can I (I was pretty fraught by this point) so yes I would like you to help! Thankfully a nice man took pity on us and our mountain of luggage and carried the car seat down for us. I was suprised at how few people were willing to help, or get out of the way for that matter.

By the time we boarded my mother and I were close to nervous break downs, Isaac was still pretty chipper!

He sat on my knee, stared out of the window, pointed at various things and babled away. I gave him a bottle on the way up. Snacks during (inbetween him peering out of the window and showing off his winning smile and dance moves to the guy sitting behind us) and by the time that we landed he was pooped and lying on my knee with his tiger.

What a little trooper he is, makes everything easy, what a blessed mummy I am.

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