Flight of the Disconcordants

Just to inform the masses I will give details about our latest journey across the great Atlantic. I was definitely more tired before this flight than on the way over. Partially this was from shouldering the childcare solo (though I did get LOTS of help along the way) for 5 weeks, and also probably from the pregnancy progression.

We needed to arrive at the airport right about naptime (1:45PM), but I hoped James would just be tired by flight time (4:45 PM). This kind of strategy is hard to play, because you can only do so much, and hope that the balance is not pushed past "tired" to the dreaded "overtired" stage. Or as our favorite sleep doctor calls it, upcited-- the combination of upset and excited.

I climbed into the long KLM line behind a mission trip of about 35 people. There are often missionaries on these flights, because I think you have to go through Europe to get to Africa. They just don't do a lot of direct flights. After standing in line for about 45 minutes a very kind Australian guy told me I should not be in the regular line in my state. In Amsterdam, where we usually depart, they will pull you out of line if you have a kid or are pregnant, etc.-- but I really don't know the policy, and I didn't want to lose my place in line. I also didn't want to make too big a deal out of my situation-- because this was also my first time flying so close to the cut off date for pregnancy. I knew I was completely within their published guidelines, but I didn't want to make such a big deal out of it that they questioned my abilities to take the flight. This gentleman was so kind though, and he went forward to speak with the staff and they immediately put me in the 1st class line with no waiting. Then I was funneled into the first class/military/special needs security check as well. The counter assistant told me I had a bulkhead seat again, which was very exciting to me. I made it through security with no problems, then James and I proceeded via the train to our gate. We went to the bathroom, we ate a sandwich, we strolled around and then waited and waited for our flight. In the meantime it began to storm outside, and the crew mentioned this may cause delays. I was able to keep James occupied by looking out of the window as airplanes took off and they loaded our plane with food, luggage, etc. Then a nice but seemingly semi-neglected kid sort of glommed onto us and played with James for at least an hour. Finally when it was time to board I convinced him it really was time he found his family (who were just sort of staring into space nearby and eating McDonalds). This kid was basically nice, and it was a good distraction-- he also offered me helpful input about James' Dora watch from Target-- which he said was definitely not a boy watch (it was blue, how should I know?)
Anyway we boarded and James wanted to get down and explore, and he began to fuss and cry. Now he is not immune to a meltdown, and often when he hits that stage-- he does not want anything I have to offer. No teething gel, no milk, no snack, no mamma, no nothin'. When not on an airplane and he gets this way, I simply put him down, let him get upset solo, and then he always hits a point where he soon wants to be picked up and held. Unfortunately on the airplane I could not put him down because people were loading themselves and heavy bags all around us. I tried to remain calm and happy, and told my fellow passengers that he would fall asleep soon. But James became more and more upset, and soon it was time for him to be buckled onto my seatbelt. He was just crying out hoarsely "no no no" over and over again. He was getting hotter and more red and sweaty with each passing moment. I tried taking him to the bathroom, but he was just too far gone to settle down. When I emerged from the bathroom the flight attendant said-- we have another idea! They cleared a center row for us and gave us four seats together so that he could lie down. We had to get through the takeoff first-- you have to be all buckled then-- but then he totally crashed out for four hours of decent sleep. All told he only cried for about 1.5 hours, and it could have been much worse. In the beginning you could see panic in the faces of everyone around us-- they were definitely thinking "is this kid going to cry for 8 hours", but it was fine in the end.
Thankfully another kind Australian, Kylie, met us at the airport to drive us home. James is pretty much back on the proper sleeping schedule-- mom is not too far behind I hope...