Here's a picture of us from June!
And now, for the real flight story.
Just before our flight, we went to a restaurant for dinner (for us) and dessert (for my folks). It was like 4:30, so we were getting dinner out of the way and they were there for a snack. Word to the wise, though: At Cheddars, the desserts are absurdly large. My father ordered apple pie and received a quarter of a pie. My mom ordered chocolate cake and received an enormous piece of very yummy cake.
For some reason, we thought nothing of giving Quint 3 little bites of chocolate cake before getting on a two hour flight in close quarters. WHAT THE SCHMO IS WRONG WITH US!!!
So 11 month old Quint slept for like 20 minutes total on the plane and at least nursed to release his ears while we were climbing. That is the end of the positive things I have to say about that flight.
Quint wiggled and wiggled and wiggled and beat his head against me and his papa for the duration of the flight. He was tired but wired. I could not nurse him back to sleep once we had reached cruising altitude. I tried though, and the guy across the aisle from us probably got flashed way to much. He just stopped looking after a while. Quint at least realized that there was nowhere to go down to and wasn't squirming to get down. He played with the seatback tables for probably half an hour. Luckily no one was in that seat in front of us. He didn't cry or fuss, really, he just never stopped moving.
Whenever he would start to make noise, or entertain himself by making noises, we would give him food to eat. Hubby says this sets a bad president - you make noise, you get food - and I have to agree with him. But the noise bugs Hubby more than me, so I'd just say, "I'm resisting the urge to give him a cheerio," and after about 60 seconds, he would give him a cheerio.
Goldfish were also a factor. Quint has started putting a fist full of snacks into his mouth all at once if I don't watch him. I try to only offer him three fish at a time now, but I obviously wasn't paying attention at one point.
Quint choked on a goldfish.
Scared me half to death! His little body was doing the vomit motion with nothing coming out. At first I thought he was going to vomit straight into the baby bag (which is not without positive aspects while on a plane). I picked him up to face me and he was obviously not getting air. Thankfully, I had asked the pediatrician on some regular visit what you do for a choking baby, since the Heimlich isn't possible on their tiny little bodies, so I had a clue about what to do. And of course he managed to choke during the 2 minutes that Hubby was in the bathroom. So Hubby gets back to our seat and I'm systematically beating our son on the back with his head down, rolling him to his other side and beating him on the back again. Hubby is frantically looking around the seat and finds a soggy goldfish. Maybe that was the stuck one and I can stop beating him! So I sit him upright and he's coughing (THAT MEANS HE'S GETTING AIR!) and has very red in the face. We both relax a bit and I cuddle Quint to my chest and nearly cry. He clings to me and whimpers and continues to cough. He spit up parts to several more goldfish all over me, but thankfully, his enormous dinner didn't come back up.
So maybe we should only give him like one or two goldfish at a time.
Soon, he was back to wiggling constantly and we nearly swore off cake for life.
When the plane landed, we had a much easier time getting everything to the car because we only had one suitcase and one stroller. That means that I could move everything by myself while Hubby went to get the car out of long term parking. We got home and fell into bed, including Quint, who after all, skipped his evening nap.
Soooooo glad that was a direct flight!
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