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The Joys of Flying with an Infant

I get to the airport with as little time left as possible before they tell me it’s too late to board. I don’t wanna sit around any longer than I have to with an infant. My bag is KILLING me as I walk to my terminal, it’s so heavy. I swear, I’m pretty sure I have the ENTIRE house packed in that small carry-on:
  • Four baby bottles full of water
  • 2 formula carry compartments
  • Diapers
  • Wipeys
  • A rattle
  • 1 burp rag
  • 4 pacifiers
  • My wallet, filled with a million meaningless business cards
  • Hand sanitizer
  • Chapstick
  • A pack of gum
  • My water bottle that I bought at the airport for about $8
  • A baby blanket
  • And don’t forget my People magazine!

I finally reach my terminal and what do I find? A big fat sign that reads,

“Flight 325 to Charlotte, NC - DELAYED 1 HOUR!”

Are you kidding me?

I look down at Gus and he peers up at me and smiles.

This is gonna be fun.

I decide to waste some time by heading to the bathroom. I go straight for the handicapped stall hoping the changing table is located INSIDE. Of course, it isn’t. I manage to use my arm as a hook while my hands are free to take care of business. Wow, easier than I thought! Oh wait, now I have to pull UP my pants and button them?! I glance down at the floor, should I? I DO have a blanket I could keep under him. The thoughts of parasites with slimy wormy bodies and big round mouths filled with fangs crawling on my baby haunt me. No, I can’t. I give Gus a kiss and I pin him between my knees and wiggle my jeans up. WHY did I wear the tight ones today? Oh well, wedgie and all, I gotta do what I gotta do!

I kill an hour by riding on the airport length treadmills. Gus likes the wind in his hair. When I finally get on the plane, I notice my seat is on a row of three and I’m the very middle one. I smile sweetly at both passengers on my row hoping ONE of them will offer up their window or aisle seat for the poor mother with a baby who is now crying because the plane is about 125 degrees and he’s starving and tired. Nope. They both try not to make eye contact, hoping I’ll keep walking past them. Sorry friends, that’s my seat.

Once I get comfortable, and that’s an overstatement, Gus needs to be fed. I’ve held off for as long as possible hoping to use his bottle for the take-off but I’ve given up. I’m feeling around in my bag trying to grab a bottle and formula as Gus screams his brains out. The man in front of me is on the phone saying, “Yea, you hear that? This is gonna make for one LONG flight.” He peers between the seats at me and I give him the look of death. The mother lioness inside of me is ready to tear his head off.

I’m finally able to get the bottle made and as soon as I give it to Gus, he passes out and ends up sleeping for the entire flight! I'm glad he's asleep but my armpit starts to cramp since I don't have a place to rest my elbows because both armrests are being taken by the people beside me. I just wanna look at my People magazine, but I can't reach it and I'm not about to attempt to reach for it for fear I may wake Gus up. I can't even enjoy the complimentary beverage because my tray doesn't have enough room to lay flat!! As we land, sweet Gus squirms a little and starts to whimper. He’s awake now and ready to start all over again for our connecting flight home. Good times…


Jessica is a TEXAN. BUT…she’s also a mother of 5 (4 boys and 1 girl) who has been married for 11 years to a super hot US Marine that she likes to call, “Lover.” She and her family live aboard Camp Lejeune in NC and they fantasize about the day they can move back home to the great state of Texas and build their dream home. She writes on her personal blog about other crazy adventures at

Enjoy shopping for quality baby clothing at

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