This year, my parents offered us Spring Break plane tickets, so my son Miles and I jumped at the chance to fly out to Phoenix for a visit.

 

Okay, so that’s a lie. Actually, I agonized for a few months over whether or not I was emotionally ready to attempt a plane ride with a somewhat sheltered, not-quite-potty-trained three-year-old.

 

I finally told myself to stop being such a wimp and just do it. Nobody’s gonna die if my kid is the one pooping his pants and throwing a tantrum on the plane. The flight to Phoenix is less than three hours, after all. Three potentially horrifying, stressful, humiliating hours of my life in exchange for a really fun week visiting with my family. I decided the exchange was worth it and we committed to dates.

 

Turns out, I had nothing to worry about. Miles was a little dream on both flights. Not a single fit or grumpy moment.

 

Before we left, I tried to stress how easy it is to get lost in an airport as best I could, without scaring the living daylights out of the kid. He stayed by me in public and always held my hand, which is usually a major issue for my independent boy. I also had a bag full of preschool work books, new books to read, plastic toys and crayons that kept him occupied the whole time.

 

He didn’t poop his pants on the flight there or home, so I never had to figure out how to change a messy diaper in one of those tiny airplane restrooms. I hope I never do. That’s a skill set I’ll really be okay with never mastering.

 

I was worried the flight might scare him because I forgot that kids don’t over-think everything like we grown-ups sometimes do. I am personally a nervous flyer because I just can’t understand how the gigantic, heavy jet stays up in the sky. I usually spend the entire flight neurotically waiting for the airplane to suddenly figure out that it really shouldn’t be up there, and plummet to the ground.

 

Traveling with a child was different because I had to make being trapped miles from the ground in a metal tube seem fun and exciting, so I focused on how “amazing” it was that we were flying, how “cool” it was that we could go so much faster than cars, etc. While I was selling it to him, I ended up kind of selling it to myself and it really helped my nerves.

 

Not as much as the alcoholic beverage I usually order on a flight to calm myself down, mind you. But you know, Mommy can’t drink on the job, so “Ooooh, look at the clouds, sweetie!” will have to do. But I will admit that I glanced longingly at the Bloody Mary the nice man next to me was holding more than once.

 

Miles had two firsts on the airplane, strangely enough. The first “I want to do this when I grow up” statement he’s ever uttered, and he wrote his name all by himself for the first time, without any prompting from me or help.

 

I didn’t even know he was doing it. He was writing while I took pictures to document his first “aware of it” plane ride (he flew with me at two months when we left Los Angeles, where he was born). He said “I wrote my name, Mommy!” and held up the word “MILE” scribbled in crayon. Wow. Not bad for a kiddo who just turned three a few months ago, right? (I even got pictures, which you will see below.)

 

While we were discussing that a pilot was flying our airplane, Miles stated that he wants to be an airplane pilot when he grows up. He’s never said anything of the sort before. So there you have it. We’ll see, I guess. (I’m just hoping he doesn’t have to ask people if they’d like fries with that when he grows up, really. Pilot would be very much okay with me.)

 

Miles was excited to see his “Dramma and Drampa” and especially loved their swimming pool and novel new landscape. The desert looks like another planet compared to the green, humid place we call home, and he seemed fascinated by it. He helps me water plants in our backyard, so he became a little obsessed with watering his very patient Grampa’s beautifully landscaped desert plants with swimming pool water. We’re hoping this won’t have any adverse effects on the flora.

 

I was excited to see my parents and their new home. They just bought it and moved in a few months ago, but it was decorated so beautifully that you couldn’t tell. I was impressed. I fell in love with the high ceilings, open floor plan and bright, natural lighting. I am not a fan of rabbit-warren-divided, ranch-style homes and love an airy, happy house. I’d rather live in one really big room than the same amount of space walled off into tiny sections. It was perfect. 

 

I’m going to post pictures from our vacation in little chunks, rather than all at once, because I have a ridiculous amount of them to share. Once home, I got them off my camera, but I haven’t yet cleaned up and rotated them all for public consumption. I’m doing this in the little bursts of Me Time that mommies get, as much as that kills this girl who can’t stand to walk away from something unfinished. (I’ve had to let that part of my personality go since giving birth. It has been one of my greatest challenges.)

 

Pictures from the plane ride and poolside:

 

 

 

 

More to come. Hope you are having a beautiful day, wherever you are, my friends.