The Parents Of The Baby Crying On The Airplane Are In More Pain Than YouMonica Bielanko
I was reading an article in the Huffington Post called 5 Tips To Avoid Flying With Kids. As a mom of two my hackles were raised and I was all set to hate the author, Corinne McDermott. Really? I was thinking. Parents are like lepers now? You’re offering advice to people on how to avoid us?
So Corinne lists her little tips, the usual stuff: “Avoid family vacation destinations” and “Don’t book the bulkhead” or you’ll get stuck sitting next to some whiner of a kid, that kind of thing.
There I was hating Corinne and everyone who has ever given me The Stink Eye while flying with my kids when I got to the very end of her article. And then I just fell in so much love with Corinne. Here’s the last paragraph of the article:
But should you find yourself in the presence of a family, try to avoid behaving like this girl. I’m thinking of bookmarking her site to show my daughter an example of how not to act in public. The tight close-ups of her sun-damaged face making rude expressions about a family committing such atrocities as wondering where they’ve put their boarding passes and worrying about running out of diapers during a delay do a disservice to urban hipster doofuses everywhere.
Go read the blog of “this girl”. It’s quick. It’s mostly pictures. Okay. Are you back? As a parent, couldn’t you just punch her right in the face? Just to see Corinne give her The Business made reading an article about how people hate flying with the likes of my family so much more bearable.
I mean, I get it, blondie blogger is trying to be funny and I’ll admit it. I was once a childless, twenty-something assface who rolled her eyes when she got stuck sitting near a family with young children while flying. I’ll even admit I rolled my eyes when the baby started crying, sighed and put on my headphones because, oh my God, the TRAGEDY.
Now, I’m a mom and if anyone dares give me the eye roll when my kid is freaking out on an airplane I will so totally cut them. Because, guess what, stupid hipster in the too-tight pants and stupid hair-don’t? I am in so much more pain than you right now.
You try stressing for days in advance about a flight with a baby or a toddler. You try juggling diaper bag, stroller, car seat, formula, snacks, entertainment in that itty-bitty seat space. You feel the ball bearings of sweat race angrily down your butt crack when your kid begins the tell-tale I-Am-Not-Pleased fussing. You start to hyperventilate when some douchebag hipster, much like yourself, rolls their eyes in your general vicinity when your child begins to cry. You try wiping the crap-covered balls of a tantrumming toddler you are balancing on the tiny toilet of an airplane bathroom because the stupid airline, for some effed up reason, decides they don’t need changing tables in bathrooms.
You try that, okay? And then go post your stupid little blog about how you want to blow your brains out because your airplane ride was just, like, SO difficult.
In defense of messy eating: My Kids Don’t Need Table Manners