Toddler takes flight, bathes in airport sink and meets extended family

WARNING: Very long post, might want to read in multiple sittings!

This is an account of Gavin's first time flying in an airplane.It's necessary that I begin with a bit of background information. Two days prior to fateful first flight experience we attempted to switch our son from formula to whole milk. Gavin had a terrible reaction to the five ounces of whole milk. He rejected the whole milk from "both ends" from about 4:00 pm to 11:00 pm. None of us got much sleep. We decided perhaps, like his mother, he may be a bit lactose intolerant. After a day of Pedialyte we switched him back to formula and awaited consultation from our family physician. The following day our little Mann was feeling much better, with only an occasional blowout. Luckily these blowouts were becoming increasingly more solid, though quite messy. He was tolerating his meals and back to his usual happy self. We decided he was on the mend and would go with me to San Antonio later that evening. By leaving Thursday evening I didn't have to miss more than one day of work and this gave us all of Friday to explore San Antonio and visit with my parents and brothers before my grandmother's memorial on Saturday. This would also be Gavin's first time meeting some of his aunts, uncles and cousins. As well as his first time to visit Papa Don and Abuela Kathy's home, where his mama grew up and danced on the back patio with his daddy on their wedding day.

Back to airport/flying part of the story.

I was nervous about navigating the airports by myself with a one-year old in tow. I had nightmares of being that mother on the plane with the inconsolable crying and screaming baby. I prayed, "Oh God, please do not let that be me." In hopes of preventing this I did two things: scheduled a late night flight for our arrival and a wee-hours-in-the-morning flight for our departure. My logic was that hopefully by scheduling flights during sleeping hours Gavin would do mostly that - sleep. Both flights had an approximate two hour layover in DFW.

Upon arrival at the airport, my dutiful and sympathizing husband parked in short term parking and helped get our luggage to the check-in counter, etc. He then walked us to security and watched to make sure we got through without incident. The TSA folks were very helpful and polite. "Whew," I thought to myself. "Getting through security really wasn't that bad at all." The lines were short, I wore slip on shoes, had the bottles of formula (not vomit and poop inducing whole milk!) easily accessible for inspection and was even able to take off my belt and fold up my umbrella stroller with one hand, all while balancing Gavin on my hip. Check-in and security was complete, without incident.

My flight was delayed almost an hour. Luckily I was armed with toys, snacks and back up supplies of patience. Gavin and I made it to our gate and settled in for our long wait. My plan was to postpone his dinnertime bottle until take off. Everyone and their grandmother had already advised me to make sure Gavin was sucking on something during take off so that his ears would pop, otherwise the change in pressure might be painful and then I would become that mom. Unfortunately due to the delay Gavin's dinner time came before we could get on the plane. After about 45 minutes of crawling around the gate and staring at all the airplanes out the window my young son was hungry and getting sleepy. As he should be. So I gave him his bottle. About 20 minutes before boarding I started to smell that familiar aroma of baby poop. I scooped him up, sniffed his behind (just to be sure) and made our way to the public bathroom. I felt bad having to change such a messy diaper in full view of any woman who walked into the restroom. Gavin's britches were soiled. This event marks the first change in clothing of the evening.

Back at the gate we prepare for boarding. My heart begins to race. Here comes the part of the evening I have been dreading. The kind attendant checking our tickets graciously assisted with gate checking the stroller. Down the tunnel we go. Gavin is consumed with curiosity. He swings his head from left to right, not wanting to miss one minute detail. We find our seat, the one next to us is empty. Awesomeness. I sat Gavin down on the empty seat while I jammed the carry on/everything-I-could-possibly-need-for-a-baby diaper bag under the seats in front of us. Gavin screams. He does not want to be sat down in this strange new place. He wants me to hold him until he feels comfortable with his new surroundings. Fair enough. Red-faced and wincing in embarrassment I quickly scoop up my baby, take my seat and awkwardly maneuver underneath him to buckle my seat belt. Locked and loaded. He feels better now and starts to squirm. He must inspect all objects within reach. He checks out the window, bangs on it a few times to test the integrity of the glass. "Yep mama, it's strong enough. Look I can even bang it with your sunglasses. It makes a fun new sound." He settles down, rubs his eyes, lets out the first of several yawns and leans back on my chest. This is my cue to give him his blanket so he can suck his thumb and go to sleep. By now we're taxing down the runway. I give him his blanket, thumb is in the mouth, sucking has commenced, we ascend into the air and I am now the proud mama of a sleeping one-year old. Again, I think to myself, "It's official, my child is perfect. This flying with a baby thing is a snap."

Gavin slept soundly on my chest for about 15 minutes when he started to stir and grew fitful because he couldn't stretch out. Super mom came to the rescue and created a comfy big "bed" in the empty seat next to us. He squirmed a bit, noted that this weird place was not his crib, nor his parents' bed, but I guess it would do for the time being - assuming mom stayed very close by, which of course I did. Some time goes by, we are now about an hour into the one hour and forty minute flight between Knoxville and Dallas. We're probably somewhere over Little Rock. Gavin wakes up and starts to whimper. So I pick him up. It's almost 8:00pm Central time, which means it's 9:00pm Eastern time and about 1.5 hours past his actual bedtime. He is enjoying his new surroundings, starts to talk to the flight attendants and flirt with the other passengers. I give him one of his green trucks to play with. He likes this. Originally I intended to change him into his PJs once we arrived at DFW, but the night was going so well, and I had all this extra room with no one sitting next to us so I decided to get ahead of schedule and change him on the plane. Easy enough. About 15 minutes after getting Gavin into his PJs our luck begin to change.

It first began when we hit turbulence, which triggers my motion sickness. So now I am nauseated, willing myself not to vomit and getting sleepy. Then I heard gurgling. No, not the cute kind that babies do when they are trying to speak. It was the kind that comes from the diaper. Gavin looks at me with his big blue eyes, its a look of concentration, then he grunts, his diaper gurgles some more and then he smiles. "Goodness gracious," I think. "This couldn't have waited 30 minutes from now when we will be off the plane and inside the airport?" "No Mommy, I wait for no one." I should be accustomed to this by now. I try to balance Gavin on my lap while digging through the side pockets of my carry on for wipes, a diaper and a changing pad. At this point I'm not even sure there are changing tables inside an airplane bathroom. I start to sweat, the familiar anxiety creeps in, my heart races. The flight attendant is sitting in the back of the plane near the bathroom. I ask her if people change diapers on planes. She smiles and looks at me sympathetically, "Yes, they do. There is a fold out changing table above the toilet." She demonstrates. By now Gavin is very uncomfortable. I would be too if I had defecated myself. I lay Gavin down on the changing pad, he starts to whimper and squirm. He does this now, even at home. He hates to have a dirty diaper but doesn't really want to have his diaper changed either. "Wow, this is one of those diapers." Big blowout, poop is everywhere. Now I am nauseated, in a small, hot, smelly airplane bathroom with a screaming, poopy baby. This is worse than being that mom, this is a nightmare. This is really gross. So somehow I manage to control his squirming, wipe his bum, remove soiled diaper, and dispose of it without getting poop all over the bathroom, Gavin or myself. This was no easy feat. Upon further inspection I discover I was not that successful. There was poop on the PJs and poop on the changing pad. I folded the soiled articles, put the clean diaper on and emerged from the bathroom with almost naked baby. Again, I get the sympathetic look from the flight attendant while she comments on my almost naked child. We go back to our seat and I put Gavin in his third change of clothes. I'm irritated because I could have sworn I had packed an extra pair of PJs, but apparently I did not. Gavin gets a onesie.

Just as we are getting resettled the flight attendant announces our descent. Gavin is wide awake now, he does not want to sit still in mommy's lap. Mommy is extremely nauseated as there is still some turbulence, and the descent is not a smooth one. Usually when this happens I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing, but with a small squirmy child who was demanding 100% of my attention there was no time for closing my eyes. Gavin wants to stand and sing and just in the nick of time I persuade him to drink some water. He's sucking and I get a few minutes to try and get my nausea under control. Then I hear it, the faint sound of butt gurgling over the roar of wheels hitting the runway. Gavin looks at me and smiles. This time there is no doubt that his clothes are soiled. His back is wet with poop. The plane is maneuvering around the tarmac. Air control changes our gate twice. It's about 15 minutes before we actually come to a stop. Gavin and I are the last ones off the plane. I have him wrapped in his blanket, to keep him warm AND to hide the poop. I manage to pull the stroller off the gate check shelf and unfold while holding Gavin in one hand and keeping his blanket wrapped around him. Gavin hate the process of being strapped into anything. He's OK once we're moving. Needless to say I had one very unhappy and loud baby as I strapped him into the stroller. Silence ensues as I navigate two terminals and search for one of those "family" bathrooms.

I had never been in a family bathroom until this time. It was such a relief to have some privacy and be able to lock the door. This was also the first time in four hours that I have allowed myself to use the restroom. At that point I didn't care of Gavin was screaming and trying to squirm himself out of the stroller. I needed to relieve myself and there was no way I was going to let him crawl around the floor of a public restroom. Yuck. Finally it was time to change him. I didn't have a changing pad and the restroom was out of disposable ones. When I pulled his onesie off poop went all the way up his back and into his hair. I did my best to wipe most of the poop off and then had no choice but to bathe him in the sink, which was much deeper and wider than regular public restroom sinks. He did not like this at all. I pull the last of the change of clothes from the carry on. All that's left are jeans and shirt. All socks have been pooped on. It was during this change that I noticed Gavin was cutting another tooth. This is his second tooth in a one-week period. Great, now I have a cranky, tired, poopy, teething baby - and I forgot to pack the orajel. Thankfully there were some extra trash can liners at the bottom of the trash bin, underneath the primary liner. I now had a trash bag full of poopy clothes, blanket, and changing pad. I am also completely out of wipes. And the nausea is still hanging around. Luckily I had packed an extra blanket.

On the way out of the restroom I spot a small convenience store. I head straight to the fountain drinks. A cold carbonated beverage often settles my stomach. With fountain drink in had I head to the counter. In front of me is another young mother with a young child - a little girl, about Gavin's same age. The mother is petite and she doesn't have a stroller, she is carrying her tired tot. She looks as haggard as I feel and judging by the way she looked at me with recognition I could tell she felt the same about me. With a tired, sympathetic look she asked me how I was doing. I told her I was exhausted. She nodded in agreement. Our tired babies made googly eyes at each other and we parted ways. I made it all the way to my gate when I realized I had left my fountain drink at the cash register. I trekked all the way back to get it. I still had my stomach to settle.

Back at the gate I left Gavin crawl around. He is getting cranky. It's past 10:00 pm. We board our final flight. San Antonio is a brief 45 minutes away. This time we weren't so lucky as to get an empty seat next to us. Luckily our neighbor likes babies. Gavin smiles and jabbers away for a minute or two. He's out like a light before the plane even takes off and before I know it, so am I. I wake up as we're making our final descent. We've made it - with no poop.

What a relief to find my father waiting at the baggage claim. On our way home I am still feeling queasy. "Maybe a breakfast taco will settle my stomach?" I haven't eaten since lunch time. We also stop at the "HEEB" to get more wipes. Gavin slept while I undressed him and conked out completely when he hit the playpen. I shared a breakfast taco with my dad and finally crawled into bed. It was 1:00AM.

Fast forward seven hours. Gavin's awake. Smiling as usual, ready to play, ready to eat and feeling refreshed after a very long night. Mommy is not feeling so refreshed. In fact I am still feeling nauseated, very nauseated. Then I hear gurgling coming from my belly. Uh oh. I make a run for the bathroom, Gavin crawling as fast as he can behind me. He insist on following me everywhere, because he is in a new place. Now I have everything coming out both ends. I guess it wasn't the whole milk or motion sickness after all. I spend the next three to four hours trying to keep up with the unstoppable Gavin. He is into everything. He explores every room, every piece of furniture, every electrical outlet. I probably have to use the restroom at least 10 times during the three-to-four-hour time period. Each time there is Gavin, watching me curiously, he isn't about to leave me side. While stuck to the toilet I reach for the antibacterial wipes and try and wipe down any surface he can get to while he waits for me to relinquish my thrown. By noon I was running a fever, accompanied by aches and chills. I feel like hammered doggy doo. I probably washed both our hands 50 times between the time we woke up until my mom came home from work.Thankfully she was able to leave work early to relieve me from Gavin duty so I could take care of myself and get some rest. I received a text message from Casey, both my in-laws and the woman who babysits Gavin during the week have the same stomach bug. It was late Friday night before I was able to keep anything in my stomach.

Luckily all was well by Saturday. Below are some photos from the very brief weekend in San Antonio.

This was Friday night. After I was feeling better we took Gavin to meet my brothers.


Breakfast Saturday morning - a much, much better day than before.


Meeting my Uncle Rudy for the first time. Uncle Rudy is also my godfather.


Exploring the backyard with grandma.


"This grass stuff isn't such a bad thing after all."


A few of Gavin's cousins.






A much needed nap.


The following morning came early. We had a 7:00AM flight. All I can say is that the two flights home were 100% better than the two flights to San Antonio. There was not one poopy diaper. I was not sick. Neither of us were cranky. Gavin slept soundly the entire time on both flights. Terminal B at DFW had a kid's area where Gavin was able to crawl around and play. I even had time to eat a sandwich! Every airport should have one these.


Aside from the teething, poopy diapers and stomach flu episode, it was actually a really great trip. I am looking forward to returning in a few more weeks. I am especially looking forward to us traveling as a family and having two parents available for airport and in-flight Gavin duty.