We went to visit my parents last week, which meant some time on some airplanes. Because we live far away from both our parents, my kids have been flying since they were very little.
Kiddo loves to fly because it means a new adventure. She has never shown any effect of altitude change, and just has a good time. She spends at least 20 minutes each flight studying the emergency information card. We both know it all by now. On this last set of flights, when the attendants have pointed out to me that I should put on my oxygen mask first, I was well aware, because I've had to explain the pictures to Kiddo a lot. I always hope the people in front of us are not afraid of flying, because while perusing the card, Kiddo has been known to say, at full voice, "This is what happens when the plane lands on the water!"
She also had the chance on one of the legs of our journey to watch the flight attendant presentation. She excitedly announced at each step, "I know how to do that!" And she does, because she's studied the card.
Babs does not seem to share Kiddo's affinity for flying. She actively fights when I put on her seatbelt (thank goodness for rolos, which are way more interesting than a seatbelt fight). She announced more than once that she did not want to fly today. (You may be tempted to discount such a comment because she's just barely two. She knows exactly what she's saying.) I think the major problem is that she is affected by the altitude change (that and she's bored silly by the end of an hour or two). Both going up and going down she will periodically cry out and rub her ears against me. I hand her the water, and after a drink she calms down. After the multiple ups and downs of the last week, she knows to keep the water close by.
But we weren't the screamers. We never have been. I'm so grateful for that.
