As the plane rolled down the runway, I felt a wave of pride wash over me. We had arrived at the airport on schedule, I had only forgotten a couple of items, and thankfully, just a few of my carry-on belongings were taken at security. My 5-year-old son was happily engaged with his tablet, and my 8-year-old daughter was settling in with a movie. I turned to my partner, grinning, and silently mouthed, “Can it get any better than this?” Just as I prepared to immerse myself in the in-flight entertainment, the seatbelt sign illuminated, and the flight attendant announced potential turbulence ahead.
“Turbulence,” I thought to myself with a chuckle. “That’ll surely lull the kids to sleep!” But before I could share my light-heartedness with my partner, the ride began. The aircraft swayed and jolted as if it were a puppet on strings being controlled by someone in a bad mood. I glanced at my partner across the aisle, who checked if I was alright. Perhaps it was the iron grip I had on the armrests that gave it away—I was definitely not okay. Panic surged through me.
Trying to keep calm for the kids, I sent my partner an urgent “S.O.S!” with my eyes, but all he did was shrug, utterly unhelpful. Then came another announcement from the flight attendant: due to traffic control issues, other flights had been grounded, but we were cleared to continue. As a mother, it’s my instinct to hold the family together in crises. I swallowed hard and glanced at my son, still happily engrossed in his tablet. He clearly needed some comfort now, so I offered him a pack of organic gummy snacks—because, of course, healthy snacks are essential when your life feels like it’s unraveling.
“I’m not hungry,” he replied, his voice trembling.
“You’re…not…hungry?” I was taken aback. My usually ravenous child looked as pale as a ghost. Suddenly, he thrust his tablet into my lap and uttered the three words every parent dreads: “My tummy hurts!”
In a flash, chaos erupted. Vomit. Everywhere. It spewed from his mouth, drenching him, his car seat buckles, and pooling in his lap. If I wasn’t already feeling nauseous, I certainly was now. My instinct was to leap from my seat to escape the splash zone. Did I mention that my son tends to faint when he throws up? Well, he does. So there I was, attempting to flee while perched on my 8-year-old daughter’s lap, who happens to use a wheelchair. Yes, I was a grown woman sitting on my disabled child’s lap, trying to escape from my other sick child.
It was a parenting highlight, and I had an entire plane of witnesses to validate my moment of glory. My partner, a newly minted dad, sprang into action, unbuckling our son and attempting to clean him up before I could even regain my composure. I began rubbing my son’s back and fanning him with my hands, which somehow roused him—just enough for him to turn slightly and vomit all over my partner. At that point, I contemplated skydiving out of the aircraft to escape the madness.
Eventually, my son assured us he was “feeling all better now,” but alas, we were trapped in an airplane with limited space to clean up the mess. Oh, did I mention the floor was littered with a mountain of gluten-free pretzels I had thrown during my panic episodes?
As my partner wrestled with his vomit-soaked shirt, I struggled to get my son out of his clothes, dressing him in the only spare item we had: a winter coat and a Pull-Up that barely fit him. By the time we landed, any sense of competence I had about traveling with kids had evaporated, replaced by tears of shame. My shirtless partner grabbed the vomit-sodden car seat, while I dressed my son in the last clean items available: a coat and a damp pair of shoes.
We disembarked, and as we made our way down the jet bridge, the Pull-Up ripped apart, leaving my son exposed. We had to sprint to baggage claim to find him some pants.
Best. Flight. Ever.
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Summary
Traveling with kids can be chaotic, but sometimes, the experiences that seem disastrous at the moment can turn into unforgettable stories. From unexpected turbulence to a vomit-filled flight, one parent’s ordeal highlights the unpredictable nature of family travel.