Mom Life

Baby’s first flight will be 5 1/2 hours long. This should be interesting

My brother and his wife had a baby in December.  But because they live in LA and we’re in DC, I have yet to meet my only nephew.  This tragedy is finally going to be remedied in a week and a half.

Which brings me to today’s post: flying with an infant.

crying baby

Jacob will be one week shy of a year when we make the trip.  And I don’t do things by halves, so instead of trying a nice, two-hour flight to Florida, we’re diving right in and doing five-and-a-half hours for our first trip.

We’re also teachers, so we’re poor and therefore are bringing him as a “lap infant.”  Pray for us.

pray for mojo.gif

I feel like the lap infant plan would have been easy a couple of months ago. But right now, all Jacob wants is to crawl, stand, and cruise.  So five-and-a-half hours of holding a squirming baby who wants to do anything BUT sit on a lap is going to be an experience. (Maybe you shouldn’t pray for us, maybe you should pray for whoever has to sit next to us…)

screaming infant

So as the research queen, here’s what I’ve discovered so far.

  1. Bring your own car seat.  In my Googling, I’ve seen all kinds of horror stories about people reserving a car seat from the rental car company, only to find that they were out of them that day.  Or the car seat in question was covered in puke. Or was rusty. Or broken. Or any number of other unsafe factors that meant people had to then leave one spouse at the rental car place while the other drove to the nearest Buy Buy Baby or Target to buy a new car seat.  Nope. That bulky Britax is coming with us!car seat
  2. Airlines will actually let you use your car seat on the plane without buying a seat if your flight isn’t full.  And with just under two weeks to go, our flights aren’t full (I’m sure I just jinxed myself…keep your fingers crossed for me).  So we’re planning to haul our car seat through the airport. Yes, that sounds like the biggest pain in the ass ever, but we bought a wheelie cart thing that it attaches to and you can apparently safely put the baby in the seat and use that as a makeshift stroller, so we can check the stroller before security at least. car seat stroller
  3. It’s actually cheaper to Amazon Prime a Pack N Play to my brother before we go than it is to bring our own.  While airlines let you check a stroller and a car seat for free, the Pack N Play would run us $25 each way and they’re $47 on Amazon right now, without having to shlep it through the airport.  No brainer there. if-my-wife-was-a-transformer-her-name-would-be-amazon-prime-c6296
  4. Get an Airbnb with a kitchen and washer/dryer instead of staying at a hotel.  The closest, non-shady hotel to my brother was $180 a night. We found an Airbnb for $124 and is walking distance to restaurants, shops and the beach.  While I’ve never stayed in an Airbnb before (and think it’s a little creepy when it’s someone’s regular house), I’ve got to say, the washer and dryer are crucial when traveling with a little one.  What do you do if there’s a poop disaster otherwise? babies poop on your pants
  5. Everyone I know drugs their kids on the regular.  Every single parent that I talked to who has flown with a one year old has told me to give him Benadryl.  EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. Which I guess makes sense. My parents were slipping me Benadryls to travel as late as three years ago when my mom and I flew to LA for my sister-in-law’s bridal shower.  But in my case, it wasn’t because I’m squirmy, it’s because I get more motion sick than anyone else on the planet. And if I’m sleeping, I’m not puking. baby benadryl
  6. TEST THE BENADRYL THING FIRST.  Oh my god, apparently on like 25 percent of kids, it doesn’t knock them out, it makes them insane.  And the last thing I need for five-and-a-half hours on a plane is a raging Hulk baby climbing all over everyone and everything on the plane.  (Hulk baby mad! Hulk baby crawl!) Urban legend? Maybe. But not worth the risk. Plus, testing the Benadryl beforehand gives mommy time to pack. tantrum

To be honest though, I’m not sure how I feel about the Benadryl thing.  Like I’m sure it’s fine. Dr. Adam says it can’t hurt. His pediatrician gave us the green light (although she also warned us to test it before we go to avoid Baby Hulk). And my parents did it to me for YEARS and I’m (mostly) normal.  But the box says not to give it to children under two. And I spend so much time and energy making sure that nothing non-organic touches my child’s lips, am I really going to dope him up for ease on a flight?

kid eats dirt

Yes.  Yes, I am.  But I’ll still feel mom guilt about it.  

And HOPEFULLY if he conks out for most of the flight, he’ll stay up a little later once we get there and adjust better to the time change.

Who am I kidding?  He’s waking us up at 4am every morning when we’re in LA and I know it.


With that said, I’m actually really excited for this trip–and not just because I get to squeeze my adorable little nephew finally!  We’re planning to take Jacob to Disneyland, which yes, he’ll be too young to remember, but I still want to see his face when he sees real-life Mickey and Winnie-the-Pooh.


Wish me luck!  And to all of you parents who have done a long flight with a little one before, what am I missing?  What advice do you have?

Mom Life

The only thing better than Dr. Google? Having a doctor for a brother

I hate going to the doctor.

You wouldn’t think I’d feel that way considering how many doctors I have in my family, but I think that my hesitancy to go to a doctor actually stems from that.  My mother’s brother was our go-to phone call as kids when something was wrong, and he can be kind of a jerk. I remember asking him about a rash I had one time (it turns out I’m allergic to sunshine.  Seriously. If I spend more than three days on the beach, I get bumps on my fingers and a rash on my legs. Dr. Google, however, told me the correct combination of vitamins to help me stay in the sun longer.) and he said amputation was the only answer.

rash blowtorch

As a teacher, it drives me up a wall when people who have never done my job try to tell me how to do my job.  So I’m fully aware that my tendency to self-diagnose via Google is the single most annoying thing on the planet to doctors.  I decided a few weeks ago that Rosie, my oldest dog, had a mast cell tumor based on Dr. Google, rushed her to the vet, crying hysterically, only to be told that it was a “waxy comedone,” aka, a “schnauzer bump.”  (To be fair, my vet is awesome and DID agree that the bump seemed suspicious until she did a fine needle aspiration and looked at the cells under a microscope. That or she thinks I’m completely psychotic and was humoring me.  There’s a distinct possibility that that was the case.)

crazy someecards

And the fact that I correctly diagnosed Jacob’s torticollis using the internet when our pediatrician thought he was fine both makes me extra convinced that I’m good at using Dr. Google and makes me extra annoying to doctors.  So I always feel like a doctor is not going to understand how good I am at Googling and not believe me when I tell them what the problem is. Yes, I could just describe my symptoms and let them figure it out, but my doctor is NOT House, MD.  And I don’t feel like getting poked and prodded when I already know what medicine I need.

dr google

But now I have my own personal family doctor because my brother is one.  When I was younger, the idea of my brother as a doctor terrified me. Partially because he’s my kid brother, but partially because he went out to observe at my other doctor uncle’s hospital when he was sixteen, saw a surgery, then claimed he could take my gallbladder out through my belly button and chased me through my parents’ house with an X-acto knife trying to prove it.  My parents thought this was cute. I did not.


With that said, my brother has become my knight in shining armor since having a baby of my own because I can run my Dr. Google ideas by him to determine if a visit to the pediatrician is necessary or not.  This works well because A) no matter how much I annoy him, he’s my brother and he can’t get away from me, and B) I know he loves his nephew to pieces and therefore is giving me the best possible advice. (Although when I called him about a lump in my hand, only 30% convinced I had hand cancer, he told me it was a ganglion cyst and to slam a book on my hand as hard as I could to get rid of it. I’m not sure he loves me as much as he loves Jacob*.)

google hypochondriac

*BUT when I had an adverse reaction to the motion sickness patch while in Greece two summers ago and my vision got too blurry to even use my phone to Google what was wrong with me, he took my call at 4am his time, told me what was happening, why I was having the reaction, and what to do for it. So in the spirit of giving credit where credit is due, he’s a pretty awesome brother/doctor.

Meaning that when Jacob was taking less of his bottle than usual last week, then threw up, that felt too dire for Google and I called my brother.

children vomit.png

“Sounds like a stomach bug,” he told me.  “Rest and Pedialyte and keep an eye on how much he’s peeing.”

When that answer didn’t satisfy me, he asked, “What are you afraid of here?”

“That he’s sick,” I said.

sick wants dad


“That’s all.”

He sighed.  “Babies get sick.  It sucks for a few days, then they get better.  He’ll be fine.”

“Can he throw up in his sleep and choke on it and die?”


No,” he said.  “Babies are good at being sick.  He’s fine, you’re fine, have a glass of wine and chill.”

See why this is better than Google or going to the doctor?  Jacob’s pediatrician is nice and all, but she’s not going to prescribe a glass of wine when I’m freaking out.

doctor wine

Of course, I called him back the next day to tell him his diagnosis was wrong because Jacob hadn’t thrown up again, but was still refusing his bottle and fussy and I thought he was teething.  And Dr. Google told me that teething can sometimes make a baby throw up even though pediatricians always say it’s a stomach bug.

“Okay, then he’s teething,” he said. I could hear him rolling his eyes through the phone.  

google doctor

Then, a day later, when Jacob was still refusing his bottle, we went to the pediatrician, who told us it was either a virus, teething, or constipation.  Which was a pretty broad spectrum of issues, but at least she ruled out an ear infection, strep, and a bowel obstruction (none of which I thought he had).  

That afternoon, Jacob woke up from his nap with an insanely runny nose and we had our answer.  I still think he’s teething too, but based on the sore throat that I woke up with the next morning (yes, he sneezed on my face again.  Thanks, kid.), I felt confident that I had solved the medical mystery of why Jacob wasn’t taking his bottle.

Sick kid humor

With a little help from my brother and Dr. Google.  Thanks guys!