Work harder to get an infant bassinet. That’s all I got.
In Little Mister’s defense, he did try. It seems he reached the most unhelpful airline employee ever who told him that bassinets are first come, first served. The employee neglected to mention that bassinets only fit with the bulkhead seats. Some comfort that bulkhead seats were already gone by the time he asked.
So I held Mac. Pretty much all the way across the Atlantic. I thought he might sit in his carrier (Lillebaby – like a Bjorn), to at least leave my arms free, but he rejected it.
James had the less arm-taxing, but more unpredictable task of keeping Henry from sliding off the seats. We had the whole middle of the plane—four seats across—and, after Henry was pried away from the in-flight entertainment (he watched the new Muppets movie), he slept well on the plane, lying down in the middle two seats. James also navigated the in-flight meal service with Henry and the bathroom changing tables with Mac.
All in all, it was much better than expected. We got a few comments after the flight that the kids were “sooo good.” I was grateful that we were not “those people with the screaming children on the plane.” Note to self: business plan where you escort people’s children on planes and they can sit somewhere else and pretend not to know you.
So James and I did not sleep. But we made it. We successfully navigated Customs. All our luggage was there. We were able to fit our luggage on two carts. And I was beyond relieved when we made it out and our sponsor was waiting with a (car-seat equipped!) van to whisk us to our new home.
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