7 tips for surviving plane travel with small children this Christmas holiday

IN EXACTLY 24 days, Miranda Tetlow will be flying across the country with her toddler for the festive season. She’s already having nightmares about it.

I STARTED having nightmares again this week. Silly, recurring dreams that usually involve some variation of me racing to the airport with an overflowing suitcase, about to miss my plane.

In last night’s effort, accompanied — inexplicably — by a fire breathing elf, I was driving around town before my flight still chasing a bird cage, box of canning jars, and an antique

chandelier to pack in my luggage.

My partner nudged me awake when I muttered in my sleep something like “Qantas is never going to go for this”.

While it all sounds like a great idea for a reality television show (Amazing Race meets Hoarders with a Lord of the Rings twist — call me now, executive producers!) it can only mean one thing.

In T minus 24 days, I will be flying solo with my toddler all the way from Darwin to Canberra for the festive season.

Like thousands of others crisscrossing the country, or those even braver souls heading overseas, I will spend the first six hours and 35 minutes of the Christmas “holiday” in Economy with my two-year-old.

Before you shrug your shoulders, know this. That’s approximately eight years in ordinary human time.

Stickers can keep small children occupied for a while... although sometimes you have to be their canvass.

If you think it’s bad driving across Sydney to get to the in-laws, or trekking two hours down the coast to eat ham and salad with your Uncle Jim, think again.

Forget the Mile High Club, the real badge of honour is the one you earn changing an exploding nappy at 35,000 feet.

Travelling by plane with a baby or toddler is something I’ve gained a reluctant amount of expertise in over the last two years.

It started with a trip from Darwin to Hobart for my sister-in-law’s wedding when my son was five weeks old. I dreaded that journey almost as much as his birth, but fortunately our babe slept pretty much until we touched down at Hobart Airport.

Wrongly emboldened, I kept flying in my son’s first year, accompanying my partner on work trips and taking a couple of holidays. By the time he turned one, we had taken more than 20 commercial flights.

I spent hundreds of cramped hours trying to breastfeed a screaming baby, retrieving fallen crayons (Baby Travel Law #138: there are never as many in the packet when you land)

and pretending that the spit up on the seat in front had nothing to do with me.

There was the odd heavy exhale or dirty look from a fellow traveller when we sat down, but fair enough. I didn’t want to sit with us either.

Toys are great — but don’t expect them to come home in one piece.

Still, as far as first world problems go, being a frequent flyer with a baby (and now, a toddler) isn’t all bad. Along the way, I have been the recipient of kindness, warmth, and generosity. Strangers have cooed at my son for hours, offered him toys, taken him for a cuddle. One time, an older FIFO worker and his mate insisted on carrying my bags down to Arrivals, flanking us like burly bodyguards.

On a trip to Bali, my son beamed our way through immigration at Denpasar Airport. He made friends with grumpy Americans in passport queues, posed for selfies with groovy Malaysian teens, and stopped Japanese tour groups like he was Lady Gaga.

I basked in his reflected glory. At times, I felt like I was speaking a new international language: travelling with child. I made connections with people that I wouldn’t have otherwise.

But even if your flight is more about the destination than the journey, there are things that you can do to make the journey more painless:

Think about Future You when you book.

Discount flights in the middle of the night seem like a great idea at the time, but you will pay later in grey hairs. It’s worth forking out more for day time flights and fewer stops, if you can afford it. Future You says thanks.

Arrive with plenty of time.

Remember the olden days when you could breeze into the airport 30 minutes before your flight? Well, those days are gone.

There is nothing less dignified than pelting over to Oversized Baggage with your pram, car seat, portacot, carry on baggage, and a wailing child. Give yourself twice the time you need. You won’t be sorry.

You may also need to sacrifice your seat so your darling offspring can get some rest.

Keep hand luggage to one bag.

Besides, you’ll need both hands for child wrangling. Take only the essentials from your handbag or wallet. Packed a laptop and three books for yourself? You wish! Work out exactly what you and your kid need for a trip that long. But having said that…

Always bring spare clothes.

For you and the baby. Maybe even two sets. Just ask my friend with the ten-month-old who contracted gastro midair from Melbourne to Brisbane. There’s nothing like shivering in a puddle of spew for a couple of hours to make you respect the more resourceful among us.

Two words. Screen. Time.

If you’ve been saintly about letting your child loose with technology, let that go. If not, now’s the time to be very smug about the fact that your 18-month-old already knows how to swipe right. Download some favourite shows or games before you board.

In the Night Garden may appear to have been written by people taking recreational drugs, but I’ll be depending on it this Christmas holiday.

A grab bag of toys and snacks.

I know I said pack light, but this is essential. A fellow mother told me she even wraps toys for long flights, creating a kind of lucky dip.

Think small cars, stuffed animals, figurines, books, crayons and paper, playdough, containers filled with buttons and shells: anything you think will hold your child’s attention for a few minutes. Rotate the items until you arrive at your destination.

Improvise.

It’s amazing how much play you can get out of the provided 200ml water bottle. A discarded straw. An empty cup. Work with items at hand.

And for those of your travelling sans-children this silly season? We were all toddlers once. If you can bear it, your peekaboos, help with luggage, patience, and offers to hold the baby will guarantee a place in my heart. Karma will be so kind, my friends.

As for the rest of you — can I suggest a set of noise cancelling headphones?

Miranda Tetlow is a new(ish) mum and her advice has no basis more reliable than her own meandering experience, as the song goes. Miranda has spent the past decade working as a presenter, producer, and reporter for ABC Radio, mostly in Darwin. She also writes a blog called Postcards from the North and is working on her first novel.