Flying with the devil. Or – how to fly on a plane with your children and not arrive with vomit on your top.

OK, as opposed to the recent post for selfish Alex, here is a selfless one dedicated entirely to myself.  I am not long away from embarking upon a 24 hour plane ride with two children. Two. On a plane. One child finds it hard to focus on one thing for more than about three minutes and if doesn’t get his own way has a charming habit of throwing himself upon the nearest flat surface and keening as if at a grave. The other enjoys random Tourette’s like yelps – when she is not screaming until purple in the face about being tired. Or hungry. Or itchy. Or has smelt something funny. Oh, I can already see the faces of the people in the departure lounge, just crossing their fingers and PRAYING they are sitting beside our happy little family.

Anyway – I am planning this trip like a military invasion. Only with less death. I am not focusing on what happens when we get there – just the 24 hours on the way. Don’t even talk to me about the way back when I will be doing it ON MY OWN. Seriously, don’t talk to me, especially if you are my husband. I need every trick in the book, so have been madly researching to come up with The Plan. Here’s what I have thus far:  Read more...