Tuesday, January 7, 2014

The Big Flight

The flight from Tasmania to Chicago is something between 20 and 23 hours, depending on wind speed and all that. The long flight ranges from 13.5 to 16 hours. Add layovers in and you have upwards of 30 hours of travel time.

It's awful when you have to do it on your own, as an adult. Imagine taking a baby on it.

Honestly, on your own, after the first 5 hours or so on the long flight, your body just gives in to the discomfort, relaxes a bit, and it's not so bad until you get to the last 4 hours, when you want to climb out of your skin. You chill out, watch movies, read, maybe even manage some sleep. There is no relaxing and tuning out to a movie when you have a baby with you. Thankfully the plane had a bassinet we could use that pulled out of the wall, so Simon was able to lay down to sleep a little, and we could get a bit of a break from holding him. Still, the trip was hard. And that's a bit of an understatement.

It was made somewhat nicer by Simon being remarkably well behaved and very interested in all the new people. And being complimented by fellow passengers on how cute and well behaved Simon was. Compliments on your child help make lots of situations better.

I've been asked if, after all that, the flight, the sleepless nights because of lack of routine for Simon
, the tired aching body from carrying a child all the time, the drop dead fatigue, would I recommend traveling with a baby, or would I do it again. My answer?


It was worth every bit of discomfort and pain to see my family and friends again. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.

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