Flying with small children: a blurry recap 

  

This is a photo of me arriving in Edinburgh after the overnight flight with the Pingus. My mum sent it with the caption “No rush, really?” – oh she’s a card that one. 

Yes rush because Zoey hadn’t peed since New Jersey, so no flat white for me in the airport. Quick but loving hugs and into the cab to the bathroom at granny pingu’s! 

But let’s talk traveling, specifically flying solo, with small kids so we’ll rewind +10 hours. 

LOVE IT. 

LOVE IT. 

LOVE IT. 

It was exhausting as the girls wanted 100% of my attention to talk about everything they were seeing, but hearts for eyes people the whole experience rocked. 

They loved everything about the airport, particularly the vehicles that drove around inside. 

“Inside vehicles, mummy! You didn’t know there would be cars in here!” 

And the moving walkway. And the yogurt we bought and ate sitting on the floor waiting to board. And sitting on the plane. 

It was just brilliant talking about everything over and over again. They talked until they passed out (Zoey was asleep by Maine and Nomi hung on till Nova Scotia). 

I barely needed any of the surprises of packed. Which was good as I could eek them out over our many train trips. On the plane the girls played with new small cars, play dough and we read new books (“I Stink!” & “I’m Dirty!” by Kate Mcmullan). Since they needed to sleep I kept the seat back TV screen set to the map. But, really they just wanted to talk about all the things. 

My two mistakes were food related. I woke them up for breakfast (they rejected all airplane food), and I should have packed even more snacks and real food. We had just enough but any delays would have pushed us over, or the kids would have had to eat airplane “food”. 

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