Don't carry me too far away Big ol' jet airliner Cause it's here that I've got to stay
So, this weekend was Jay's first big trip ... an airplane ride! Oh, where to begin? Let's start with the day before we left... When I went to pick up Jay from daycare, there was a big sign on the door about a "nasty stomach bug" going around the class and reminding parents that sick kids must be out 24 hours before returning to the center. Uh oh. That's never a good sign the day before you get on an airplane. But Jay wasn't showing any signs of feeling bad, so we decided to go with it.
We've already mentioned the vast amounts of "stuff" that we have brought along on prior trips with him. Experienced mountaineers have climbed Mt. Everest w/ less gear than we typically travel with. We made a real effort to minimize for this particular adventure, managing to get it all into only 5 bags. (Seriously. And that's with no carseat or stroller.) So off to the airport we go...
It actually went pretty well to start with. We got checked in, through security, and to our gate at RDU without incident. We even got up in the air without incident. I nursed him on the way up (Thanks, M, for the use of your "hooter hider"!) and mostly kept the hooters out of view of the poor guy beside me.
But then, there was the mid-air poop. The folks at daycare weren't kidding about the "nasty" stomach bug. This was a seriously foul-smelling poo. I would have just let him sit in it until we landed except that the poor guy in the window seat beside me was starting to turn green. If it had been only 2 seats on our side of the plane, I might have even changed him in my lap. Or Derek's. But I didn't want to risk airing out the sprinkler on our row 13 neighbor, so I headed back to the lavatory. Where there is no changing table.
So, how does one accomplish a diaper change at 30,000 feet? Why, with your son's head on the toilet seat, of course! There's really no describing the acrobatic feat of holding your squirming 6 month old's feet out of the smelliest poo on the planet while trying to open a pack of wipes. Isn't that an Olympic sport? I deserve a medal.
But we eventually did get clean britches and make it safely down in Denver. We had a marvelous trip, and I'll tell you all about it in the next installment of Torquil's News. But the fun airplane stories aren't over yet!
On the way home on Monday, Jay didn't get his morning nap because we were packing up our 5 bags to get back home. So he was pretty tired and cranky by the time we got to the airport. Derek carried him around in the Baby Bjorn carrier for a while, but it just wasn't making him sleepy. So I took over, strapping him to my chest and singing "You are My Sunshine" until he finally fell asleep. We were doing great - Jay was relaxed and we were ready to get on the plane. We thought we had it easy, as we chatted with a couple who were toting not one but two kids under age 5 AND a cat. We were in line headed down the jetway, in fact, when I felt the unmistakable stream of warm baby pee running down my leg. Apparently the Baby Bjorn had rearranged the diaper to allow for a side escape. We ran back to change him before we got onto the airplane, but the damage was done. And if you thought it was fun to change a dirty diaper on a plane, you should try wearing wet blue jeans for 3 hours and 24 minutes.