I was freaking out about travelling on my own with V – but I had a feeling everything would be ok.

So this is what happened…

I started packing on Monday, for myself and V.  It didn’t take long and was, I thought, a little too easy.  There was a lot of stuff I couldn’t put in until the last minute.

The morning we left (Wednesday), I got up at 5am.  Yes, 5.  I was sure there was a lot to do before leaving at 7am, but as it turns out – there wasn’t.  I was quite organised!

There was no traffic and the airport was quite quiet.  Check-in and security was fine.  And V was really well behaved and happy to be in his stroller, which I took up to the gate.  The guy who checked us in said I’d get it straight off the plane.  Yaye!  His changing bag was *so* heavy and I wanted to avoid carrying it.

10.20am: Take-off.  V sleeping.

11.20am: V wakes.  I put him in the seat and gave him a biscuit.  He spent 10 minutes offering it to the guy next to us and then snatching it back and laughing.  I needed a wee, but knew I’d have to wait.

12pm: Lunch served.  V had already had enough of staying in one place.  I stood and carried him.  Put tray on seat.  Ate salad very quickly and shared bread roll with V.

12.15pm: Put V back in seat.  Knelt in front of him and fed him a Petits Filous.  He refused to eat anything else.

12.20pm: Time has NEVER gone so slowly.  Nappy change.  Thank goodness there was no poo.  At all.  The WC on our side of the aisle wasn’t working.  So we had to go over to the other side.  This meant having to go through the galley.  Which was very busy.  I had to squeeze past carts.  It was not fun and I still needed to wee.

12.30pm: Try and sit back in seat, V had other ideas.  He didn’t want to look at his books or play with the toys.  He wanted to crawl on the floor.  So I put him down and he was very happy.  But then he started picking up all sorts of crap off the floor.  And then he tried to climb over our neighbour’s feet and get into the aisle.  It was time for a walk.  We walked up the length of the plane and back.  People stared.  So then I decided to stick to our own cabin!  We lost a pacifier.  He spat it out somewhere.  

1pm: V sleeps.  Mama sleeps.

2.20pm: V wakes and is ready to move around.  Mama has very bad headache. Tried to get him to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, but couldn’t get to the right channel because he was so squirmy.  Gave up on that idea. 

The rest of the flight involved walking, squirming, trying to crawl around and eating more Petits Filous.  He particularly enjoyed the walk to the bathroom, where he banged on the door and laughed.  Then we had such fun pulling back the curtain that separated us from the galley and laughing.  I wanted to lie down and cry.

Back in our seat – he whinged and whined.  But stopped all his nonsense to smile at anyone who walked past him.  We lost another pacifier – he threw it down the side of the seat.  And finally – it was time to land.  V had the last pacifier, which he threw down the side of the seat.  I knew I was screwed.  He was going to scream blue murder at landing.  I distracted him by giving him water and playing ‘open’ ‘close’ with the arm-rest.  Ffs.  The things we do.  And then we had landed!  And he didn’t cry!  

Oh – and during the flight, there was an announcement.  ‘If you had a stroller and brought it up to the gate, you will get it at the luggage carousel.’  Just brilliant.

But it took 30 minutes for the plane to reach the gate.  And that’s when he cried and was inconsolable (and I still needed to wee).

This was, by no means, the end of the drama…