don’t let this cute foto fool you.
the last time b and i few solo on a plane together,
he was 3 months.
i swaddled him and laid him on a seat where he slept.
and once i got over my momdom fears of strangers,
that flight was cake.
this time, we got up early,
had milk in the car,
and we checked our bags at the curb.
so far so good.
security was a breeze,
and he held my hand as we walked through the airport.
moments after i was thinking,
“oh, this is fun, just me and the B-ster, on a painless ride home…”
he decided to open his mouth as wide as humanly possible,
and let breakfast fly.
and boy did it.
the mess and smell were abhorrent.
and yes, this is the first time my child had truly vommited.
spit up, sure, but vomit? this was new.
nice timing kid.
he blew some more milk chunks on our way to the nearest shop to grab napkins.
the man looked a little less than caring as i put down my child, my two bags, and started pretending to wipe the mess enough to walk away without guilt…
once on the plane,
i sat little man next to me on a chair so no one would sit there,
and after many people walking passed us,
it was a young-ish woman who finally chose to sit next to B.
{elementary school kickball draft all over again…}
the very moment after we were told we were taking off,
vomit.
milk chunks all over B, his chair, the nice lady next to us…
this is when i happily learned that she was already a mom,
cause she immediately stood him up as i grabbed the wipes,
and helped clean up.
she didn’t even flinch.
the flight attendant came after we called for him,
but said he couldn’t do anything,
and left us to deal with our own vomit…
my row-mate had words for him.
the FA came back and offered some sparkling water.
“oh i think he would like that actually. maybe with some apple juice in it?”
“no, i meant to clean up the mess.”
of course.
i’m sure that poor guy went back to his other lady flight attendants and was appropriately yelled at for leaving us stranded… he must be new or something…
after about 15 minutes of clean, pantsless fun on the plane,
B blew chunks again.
again, my row-mate was a champ and helped clean and assured me she was fine.
she even went to the bathroom to clean out his sippy for us,
{after the young man had put the sparkling apple juice in WITH the milk.}
and busted her travel-sized perfume to rub on our hands to keep US from vommiting…
of course the one and only time my little man is sick enough to vomit,
he does so in the most inconvenient place.
i guess it wasn’t on a 5-hour drive in my car…
and i guess it meant, i got to cuddle with my little man.
i guess, i could call that a win-win.
