Don’t say I didn’t warn you, because I’m about to.
Tomorrow, I will be flying with two children under 2. Alone.
I am not carrying cutesy goody bags with ear plugs to give to you, in case one of them starts wailing.
I am not buying an extra seat for the baby, which means we are cramming a whole lotta person into two tiny seats.
I didn’t even book the flight to coincide with naptime, which means the little stinkers will be awake and alert for the whole flight.
In fact, I have no tricks up my sleeve, save for a couple of iPads loaded up with Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, a bag full of snacks and a heart full of blind, dumb hope.
So when you see El Toddler running up and down the aisle, tearing holes in the carpet; or the baby rips off the glasses of our unsuspecting seat mate; or me, clawing past passengers to lock myself alone in the bathroom, just remind me, it’s only a couple hours.
And if I endured 34 hours of labor, this, surely, pales in comparison.
See you tomorrow. 🙂