an aussie in austria

I’d read a lot of stories online of people who travelled with kids. And there was one general consensus. The difficult age is between 1 and 3. Before one, kids are more flexible, sleep a lot, and their bodies don’t react as much to things like jet lag and so on. After 3 they are old enough to understand what’s going on and old enough to be reasoned with (to some extent).

The bottom line was… when I looked into the question of ‘should we do a long plane trip with an 18 month old’ the answer was… DON’T.

It can’t be that bad, I thought. And in any case, we don’t have a choice – I want my friends and family to meet the little dude before he’s not so little any more.

It WAS that bad.

So, if you’re thinking about it. My advice is… DON’T. lol. But read on. Enjoy my pain.

After finally making it to the airport, slightly traumatised but otherwise unscathed, the one silver lining we clung to was that at least we were flying business.

Now, there’s a lot of debate out there that kids shouldn’t be allowed in business, but in the end, money talks, right? If you can afford it, you can do it.

Though there is something to be said for the alternative of flying in economy and paying for an extra seat for your child. This way, they can be safely secured in their car seat, somewhere they are used to sleeping, and you can be safely secured in yours.

At 18 months, Sam was too big for the bassinet, but too young to lie down happily himself and go to sleep. Flying with Emirates, in an A380, we knew what we were in for, and because having a lie down seat is much better for my back, we decided to take advantage of the ‘child under 2 flies free’ (of course it’s not completely free… but that’s just details).

So how did it go? Well, it was hell. It was 21 or so hours in the air plus transit times. Amounting to something ridiculous like 36 hours. And here’s why:

Way too much going on for sleep
We thought that flying in the evening would be perfect because Sam would already be tired. We stupidly thought we would be able to get him to sleep in the business lounge before the flight took off. The bright lights and excitement of the airport was just too much. Check in, security and all that goes along with it means an over-excited, over-tired child. And even when we finally got on the plane, a lap child must be on your lap for take-off and landing, so there’s a lot of juggling until you’ve reached cruising speed and can start bedtime preparations.

Way too much going on for sleep – now severely overtired
I’d brought his sleep sack and the usual bedtime book as per the recommendations, but by this point it was more of a lie down with the little guy and hold on while he screams bloody murder until he conks out!

Papa, papa, papa!
On the aeroplane, Sam decided that he only wanted to be looked after by his dad. Cue strangled cries anytime I tried to take MY OWN SON. The cries of Papa, Papa, when Papa had to inevitably let go of him to do something like… eat… or go to the toilet… rang throughout the plane while he was awake. The end result was next to no sleep for Papa, and anxiety for me.

That weird episode I had in the first hour
I guess it was an anxiety attack or something. Since I wasn’t able to do much for my son, hubby told me to relax and eat my amazing business class meal. Which for whatever reason cued an intense episode of anxiety that caught me out of the blue. After some pacing, a vomit, some drugs, rejecting the smoked salmon meal that was definitely not what I wanted, and sipping on a double gin-tonic things did improve.

Still overtired
From the get-go of Sam’s overtiredness, we never caught up. Even though he had his own space to lie in and slept ok once he was down, he certainly didn’t sleep close to what one would normally expect.

So now we’re all grumpy and tired
So, after a 3-hour stopover chasing around a toddler instead of lounging around sipping a wine and getting a feed, I think hubby and I were wondering how we were going to survive, and why on earth we’d thought to embark on this journey in the first place.

And nappy changes are hell
Sam’s butt was already red after flight one and nappy changes on an aeroplane are THE WORST. Business class bathrooms don’t seem any bigger, especially when you put down the change table. And of course poop comes at the most inconvenient of times (right in the middle of turbulence, we kind of braced and just finished as best we could). It seemed that we either changed nappies that were empty, or had to change clothes because he’d had a blowout.

And I had no idea how much to feed him or when
What time is it? Where are we? Is he hungry? What should he eat anyway? Oh God I hope he doesn’t vomit (he didn’t). He definitely ate enough but it’s a bit unnerving when you go from a predictable routine to… oh screw it give him some more snacks!

And all the stuff is in the wrong place
We packed way too much stuff, but I really didn’t want to be caught unprepared on such a long flight. My main mistake was having my bag handy, instead of Sam’s. So every time I needed snacks, toys, clothes etc. I had to delve into the overhead locker. The backpack at my feet containing iPod, noise cancelling headphones, moisturiser and everything else I usually use, just sat untouched. On the way back I was much smarter and packed the other way around!

But there were some reasons why business class was great

The bar
And not because it was always easy to get a drink, but because there was space, away from the rest of the passengers who were trying to sleep, or just watch movies in peace. In the off-peak times, Sam had a bit of space to run around in without getting in everyone’s way, and hey… being close to the bar was no problem for us either!

Extra service
From the flight attendants to the food and seating configurations, it’s just better in business class. You get more time and attention, and that goes a long way with a toddler. Hubby and I always had our meals served staggered, so one of us could eat and the other could look after Sam.

The fellow passengers
One of the things I was worried about was judgement from other passengers. I thought that going in business would generate more judgement as opposed to economy. I was surprised. It helped that we were in the back part of the plane, so it was a much smaller compartment (less people less complaints), but no one (that I noticed, at least) looked sideways at us. I mean, I’m sure they grumbled to themselves but hey, what can you do? And there were a number of other parents on the plane (with and without kids) who gave us support when it was most needed.

Thankfully the return flight, partly through being more organised, and partly through just steeling ourselves for what was coming, was much smoother. But it’ll be a while before I tackle that one again with a little one!