1. I’m more nervous about my baby crying than you are.
Every mother is familiar with the look of panic from passengers as we walk down the aisle carrying an infant. We know what you’re thinking because we thought it too. But here’s a secret: The first six months of parenthood is a never-ending process of “Let’s keep the baby from crying.” We will shush, swaddle, bounce, make up idiotic songs…every moment is spent anticipating what will keep our baby quiet. In a closed environment, that sense of urgency is even stronger. For you, a crying baby means a disrupted snooze. For us, it means spending the next hour doing acrobatics down the aisle to appease the baby while you give us dirty looks. In light of that lesson, parents, it’s OK to take the stress down a notch or you’ll make yourself crazy; other passengers, sorry, but we’re boarding whether you like it or not and we’re doing our best.
2. When in doubt, throw money at the problem.
Traveling with an infant is simply cumbersome. On a transcontinental Virgin America with a 4-month-old, I opted for a $129 upgrade to Premium Economy. For that price tag, I got bulkhead seats legroom, premium in-flight entertainment, and unlimited food and drinks (alcohol included). First class offered similar perks, but the $300 price tag for an upgrade was off-putting. (And while the first-class hot meal versus a boxed lunch may sound appealing, you try putting down a tray table while holding an infant in your lap). The same money-throwing philosophy held up when it came to choosing valet service over self parking, and taxis instead of shuttles.
Mommy tip: No matter how much free alcohol is thrown at you, don’t overdo it. Not just because it’s unclassy to be the drunk lady with a baby, but because you’ll have to use the bathroom again…and again…while holding a baby. Same goes for anything with caffeine.
3. Do your research before throwing money at the problem.
I thought the paid upgrade was the smartest thing I could have done, so on another trip, when flying MIA-LAX on American Airlines, I did the same thing. Big mistake. Huge. Those so-called preferred seats cost $39 plus a $25
administration fee and it got me a middle seat in row 10. No free food, no additional legroom. Just the comfort of knowing I had a better view of first class.
Often when babies scream on planes it’s because they can’t pop their ears in response to the changing altitude. To help them adjust, simply feed them on takeoff and landing. Makes perfect sense, right? I was in such a pre-panic (see above “Keep the baby from crying” mantra) that I began feeding him the moment the plane began moving. You don’t have to be a seasoned traveler to realize that taxiing on the runway is far different than actually leaving the ground. When the captain announces, “We’re fifth in line for takeoff” and there’s no more food to give your overly stuffed baby, that window of opportunity is long gone. Same goes for landing. Just because the pilot has announced the descent, there’s still a good 30 minutes before touching the ground.
5. There’s no such thing as too many antibacterial wipes.
I’ll never consider myself a helicopter mom. I grew up rarely washing my hands and I hardly ever get sick. But after months of watching tiny baby hands grasp everything in sight and then go into his little mouth, I’ve come to the unofficial conclusion that airplanes are gross. So are public bathrooms, hotel bedspreads, and strangers who touch my baby (even the Santa impersonator on the flight!). The last thing I want to deal with is a sick kid on the road, so those wipes are within easy reach at all times.