Gas on a Plane


I have to write this so it’s printed and Miles can’t tell me one day I made it up, although he will probably say that or blame me anyway. Aren’t all of our problems a byproduct of our parents? JK. 🙂

So…it was the first time traveling with the twins with one adult – just me. Granted, I would much rather be the only adult with them on a 2 and 1/2 hour plane ride compared to a 17-hour car drive. Can I get an Amen?

Miles was so excited for the airplane. Being ALL BOY, he is very into Things that Go at the moment. I went to Wal-Mart and got several cheap and exciting plane activities and prizes – stickers, Dory and Cars coloring books, play dough, kid chapstick, suckers, etc.  I also purchased a Cars vehicle and a My Little Pony to add to their current collections. Then, to be even more proactive, I got them headphones and downloaded the movie Cars as well as Elmo in Grouchland – Norah’s favorite – on this small, less than 30 dollar tablet, nothing like an Ipad.

Although we definitely limit the kids’ electronic usage, they somehow work my phone almost better than me. The only time they really see the Ipad is when we use FaceTime. The other times are when they steal our phones. We don’t always notice until suddenly it gets very quiet. Find the nearest (or farthest – they are starting to get smarter) corner or closet, and there they are, on the Sesame Street app, You Tube, or looking through pictures.

SMH, kleptomaniacs at such a young age.

Anyway, the plan was to use the tablet as a last resort on the airplane if things got hairy. Unfortunately, for the first 20 minutes, “a bit hairy,” was the understatement of the century. 

Miles, the child who had joyfully anticipated this adventure, was full-on hysterical. It wasn’t the “I’m 2 years old and going to throw a toddler tantrum.” Instead, it was “I’m going to have a panic attack if you don’t get me off this plane!”


“No airplane! No take off! No Daddy! No Florida!” over and over and over, crying huge alligator tears.


“I waan tuh git ahhhhhff!”

I tried everything. I pulled out all the stops. My goody bag that was supposed to last the entire ride was gone within 20 minutes. He didn’t want the suckers, the toys, nada.

And the tablet? Well, I PURCHASED the movies, but apparently I never DOWNLOADED them over Wifi. So….yeah. That stinks.

My saving grace with “The King” – the Dinoco car I purchased. I told Miles we couldn’t open it until we took off, so no matter how much he screamed (at the top of his lungs, might I add) “NO TAKE OFF!!!!!!!!” he was desperate to try to behave so when we actually got in the air we could open his new toy.

That’s also how I knew it wasn’t just a tantrum. He’s mostly a people-pleaser, and it’s very easy to redirect him. When nothing was working, including the car, I knew he genuinely did NOT want to be on the airplane.

Thankfully, after a mild delay, we finally DID take off, and after that he was pretty content. He enjoyed looking out the window, watching the clouds, pointing out other odds and ends to Norah, who by the way, saw the sucker and other candy and never looked back.  A girl after my own heart. 

I wish the earlier hysterics were the only reason people looked and stared and whispered at the three of us, but alas, I must get to the title of this piece…Gas on a Plane.

In all reality, people looked at our row quite often. Those near us, and EVERYONE who passed us. Why? I’m pretty sure they were convinced both kids (if not myself included) crapped our pants.

Our row smelled SOOOO bad. I was convinced the kids’ pooped, too! Either that or an animal died.

The stewardess commented, and more than one person asked me nicely if perhaps one the kids needed a diaper change. I kid you not! So, we had a lot of looks.

After checking Miles’ diaper 5 times in 5 minutes, he yelled, “It’s just gas, Mom! It’s just gas!” Despite the smell, I burst out laughing. 

Each time I checked the diaper, that was his response. People around us started to laugh and smile. Although it reeked, his consistent “Just gas, Mom!” was cute as could be.

We survived the flight without electronic devices. There was no poop explosions. Other than the initial meltdown, we were good to go.

The best part? Watching the twins run as fast as their little feet could go, backpacks on, to reach their Daddy was absolutely priceless. You could tell everyone, including Chris, was on cloud nine. 

We were in Florida. We were finally home.




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