Dear Fellow Traveler,
I see you looking at myself and my baby in fear as we board the plane. As we sit next to someone other than you I hear you make a big sigh of relief. As I rush to get my bags into the overhead compartments and install my car seat I get so nervous and take a little longer than everyone boarding the plane would like. Don’t blame me it’s not my fault airlines don’t let families board first anymore!
My baby must sense that I am stressed because she starts to cry. The second she starts to cry you shake your head and think, “I better not have to listen to this the whole flight.” I can feel your blood pressure rising with every shriek my baby makes. I try my best to calm my baby but it’s just not working. I stand up to ask the flight attendant for some water and I see you give me the glare of death. Like it’s somehow my fault that my kid is crying? Like I enjoy listening to my daughter cry? Like I am your neighbor throwing a wild party on a Thursday night and my loud music is keeping you up.
Contrary to popular belief I do not enjoy the sound of my child crying. I find it way more annoying than you because when this plane lands you never have to see my kid again. But I have to get in the car with my crying baby and deal with her for the next 18 years. So stop feeling sorry for yourself.
I did not board this plane with my baby to ruin your life. I need to get somewhere that I probably don’t want to go to and unless you know how to teleport me with your judgmental side eyes just stop.
If you don’t want to listen to children crying on a plane either buy some Bose headphones or become a billionaire and buy your own plane.
I really am doing the best that I can. I have no idea what my child wants. It’s like I am dealing with this drunk alien who is out to destroy planet earth and bring us back to her planet so we can spoon feed her cupcakes all day.
Yes, the sound of a child crying for 6 hours is not fun. But during this time I will most likely get puked on, have crushed up animal crackers stuffed down my bra, get peed on in the tiny lavatory, get poop thrown at me while cleaning up the pee, get sneezed on, get bitten by my baby so hard even Mike Tyson would hide in fear, and finally loose what little sanity I have left and end up looking like this…
Still feeling sorry for yourself?
Instead of rolling your eyes at me do something productive. Like ordering me a margarita so we can toast to an on time arrival and sleeping babies. Because fellow traveler we are more a like than you think. We both want to get to our destination without having to listen to a crying hyena for 6 hours and use the emergency exit to jump out of the plane to escape the insanity.
Enjoy Your Flight,
The Hysterical Mom in 22C