For not writing for 2 weeks, I apologize. We've been traveling, celebrating the holidays, etc. During this time away, we took the 3rd and 4th flights of Lily and Felix's young lives. One leaving home to vacation, one returning. The flight out was 5 hours long, and the return flight was 4-- the difference due to wind streams.
Those of you who know me well know that we're fairly restrictive with our kids. We generally followed the TV/screen guidelines that pediatricians provide; we tend to limit snacks to small portions and reasonable foods.
But for the flight? All bets were off. We loaded ipads with Curious George and filled our backpacks with GORP (with a lot of dried fruit), goldfish, pretzels, apple juice, and all the plane-worthy toys we could find. As soon as the wheels were off the ground, we had our technology out and our hands in our snack-traps. Lily and Felix were angels in the air-- enjoying the brief, limit free environment. Ironically, this occurred in the most limited environment that they've ever been in-- but they surely did not notice. Our parents' generation rubbed infant gums with whisky for air travel-- we overdosed on cheese-its and Curious George.
I got my first reward on the plane. We had awoken before 5:00am to make the flight, and obviously the kids were off kilter. They were doing great-- no tantrums, generally cool as cucumbers. Halfway through the flight, Felix turns to me, mid-episode of George, and says, "Dada, it's nap time." He closes the pad, pulls up a blanket, and sleeps on my lap for 2 hours, unsolicited. Boom.
I got my second "reward" off the plane. The dried fruit did its job, and Felix's war on diaper limitations has been raging ever since. I thought "elevator poops" were reserved for infants, but Felix is proving that theory wrong on a consistent basis. Here's to hoping a "cease fire" can be signed...and soon.
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