So our first flight was short and great. We had a happy little girl, smiling and laughing. Everyone on that flight thought she was just the cutest, happiest little girl ever, especially the couple who sat behind us. After flirting and laughing with them Mya climbed over the seat and plopped herself down in the woman's lap. We got off the plane feeling confident and thankful that it had gone way better than anticipated. Did I mention she even napped for about 40 minutes on that flight?!
On our way to the next flight we found out it had been delayed. That should have been our first clue that the day was going to take a drastic turn for the worse. The delay was spent strolling Mya up an down the airport, finding things she could play with such as straws, and trying to feed her. She really needed to get some energy out, however, an airport floor...we just couldn't do it... After an over two hour delay, we boarded plan number 2. This is where the fun began. It actually started out fine and Mya was happy. After the first hour, however, she was done traveling. With an hour and a half to go her first meltdown began. Now I must say here that Paul actually got the short end of the stick in all of this. Being a Daddy's girl through and through, all she wanted to do, while she was screaming at the top of her lungs was do it on Daddy. So that's how Paul spent a good half an hour, standing up in the back of the plane with two flight attendants(who were very nice I have to add) while Mya screamed and cried until she finally passed out. There were a lot of helpful people on the plane who offered us videos, baby drugs(Tylenol) and other "tips." But what the first crying fit came down to was an overtired little girl who was just ready to be off the plane. She slept for a while and when she woke up we had just started the descent. She seemed to be feeling better, however, that lasted for about 5 minutes and then, we believe, the pressure change hit her and the screaming began again. This time she was in pain and there was nothing we could do. AGAIN, she only wanted to be on daddy, so AGAIN, Paul was stuck with a very unhappy little girl, but this time he could not get up because we were getting ready to land. Let me tell you 30 minutes of descending with a screaming child feels like at least 2 hours. I'm sure those around us will back us up on that one! Then as we got closer and closer to the ground the plane started swaying from side to side because apparently it was very windy out. I do not love to fly as it is, however, when the plane started getting blown around, Paul then had both Mya and me to comfort... I am not kidding you when I say we hit the ground hard, on one side of the landing gear only, slammed back and forth from landing gear to landing gear and with a final thud, finally made it safely to the ground. Gulp. And with that final landing Mya stopped crying and was once again happy, that is until we then got into the car for another hour. But, after all was said and done, we got Mya to Paul's parents house in one piece and put her to bed, which she went to happily and immediately.
And guess what? We have to do it all again next week... Merry Christmas to us!
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