I started this blog with a post about flying solo with my 2 month old. And now, as if life has come full circle, I’m going to relaunch Mom Badge with a post about flying solo with my 2 month old — and 2.5 year old.

You might say I’m crazy for attempting such a daring feat after the tragedy that was my first solo flight with a kid. But honestly, the shit (literally and figuratively) that’s been thrown my way since that day makes that flight seem like a cake walk. But if I were to say I wasn’t completely nervous and overwhelmed at the thought of having a toddler and an infant by myself in a confined space full of other adults for 2 hours and 20 minutes, I’d be lying. Not to mention the mental load and strategy involved in hauling not only my human cargo, but all the junk that comes with them. I mean because we can’t get on a plane without our spiky backpack, Apatosaurus, Maui doll, water painting, headphones, etc., right? Not to mention the diapers, wipes, snacks, sippy cups and changes of clothes that are just your standard “we’re leaving the house” packing. Thankfully, I had a couple of weeks to think about it (which I did), so on flight day, my mind was fortified and my plan complete.

Totally worth the trip.

So, how did I do it you ask? I’M SO GLAD YOU DID. I would be heartbroken if all my work went unnoticed. Ok, first I brought a stroller. Typically, if I had Peter with me, I’d leave that piece of garbage at home. But being alone, I needed it for two reasons: 1. Toddler containment. 2. Junk hauling (see list of stuffed animals and toys above). The baby I just strapped to my body in the Ergo so I could have two hands. Because those were needed for pushing the stroller with one, pulling the rolling luggage with the other. Once I got through the full service line, because obviously I need to prove with a copy of his birth certificate that Benji is under two years old (insert eye roll here), things got monumentally easier.

The next secret to success is TSA Pre. It took like 15 minutes as some office in the middle of nowhere to get it, and it’s been completely worth it. Everyone gets to keep their shoes and jackets on, and the line is about 1,000 times shorter. Not to mention they don’t swab my hands because I’m baby wearing.

Now, the tricky part. Occupying a toddler for 2 hours and 20 minutes on an airplane. All I can say is, God bless technology. And a huge thank you to my son for being obsessed with movies, specifically Moana. I just plugged him right in, threw a bunch of sugary snacks his way, and had zero regrets. The baby? Easy. Milk, bouncing and a human mattress. Which to anyone else sounds like that scene from Anchorman where Will Ferrell is stumbling down the street saying, “milk was a bad choice,” but for Benji, it works like a charm. Couple that with the plane noise, and he took one of the best naps he’s had in weeks. I need a jet engine near his rock and play, apparently.

Anyway, after I had both boys set up, I spent the rest of the flight praying for things to stay exactly the same and trying to stretch my wrist that most definitely has carpal tunnel from all the baby holding. And guess what? IT TOTALLY DID. The flight was on time, there wasn’t turbulence, and the boys were angels. The only tantrum thrown was when we had to get off the plane and mommy turned off Octonauts (I’m a terrible person, I know). But considering the number of horrible scenarios that I played out in my mind for weeks beforehand, I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. I’m not saying I’ll do it again anytime soon, but for now I can say that I did, and I felt like a total badass afterwards.

Snacks. Always bring snacks.