When we returned from Boston, we brought our grandchildren back to San Diego with us…two active children on a six hour flight. The youngest turned two last month and his older sister turned four last week. We juggled three carry-on suitcases, three backpacks, a diaper bag, a double stroller, a car seat, two children…and a partridge in a pear tree. We considered checking the bags but figured that playing sherpa was the lesser of the evils. Chasing cranky kids around a moving baggage carousel after a long flight sounded like a recipe for disaster.
We added the grandkids to our flight at the last minute, so the available seating was limited. To sit with them, we had to give up our reserved seats and move to the back of the plane…the very last row with seats that didn’t recline…and TV screens that didn’t work. I was sandwiched in the middle of the kids and my husband was across the aisle. We couldn’t find two sets of two open seats so this was the only viable option. I think my husband was secretly relieved. We strapped the little guy into his car seat for his safety and our sanity. Then, we buckled up for the ride.
The kids were excited to fly on an airplane, watch movies, and eat snacks. Luckily, my son had sent along a tablet preloaded with kids shows…or else the broken TV screen would have made me their sole entertainment. Their screen time is limited at home, so they were excited to watch back-to-back episodes of Bluey. And they maintain a healthy diet at home, so they loved the special stash of treats my husband brought along to help time (and us) fly.
The kids fell asleep midway through the flight and woke up as the plane descended, thrilled by the clouds and city lights they saw out the window. Neighboring passengers smiled, charmed by their wide-eyed wonder. It was fun to see life through the lens of a child…and a good reminder to slow down and see the lights.
