New Mummy Blog: Flying With Children - An Apology To My Fellow Passengers

This is an open apology to all our fellow passengers; in particular the grumpy old man in 12D who loudly breathed 'oh no' as we advanced down the aisle.

Yes, we are THAT family. The one that no one else even wants on the plane, never mind sitting near to. We are the family travelling with young kids.

We know you're thinking that kids, especially crying babies and overactive toddlers, shouldn't be allowed on planes. Especially for a long haul flight. But unfortunately we have somewhere we need to be too.

And I promise you, while you might be dreading us stopping at the seats in front or behind you, we've been dreading this journey much, much more.

We understand. We know how you feel. We used to be just like you. There was a time when our biggest flight time concerns were as simple as what inflight movie we were going to watch and are we seated a safe distance from these undesirable, unpredictable, noisy little people to be able to enjoy it.

Not so, any more. These days air travel is complex, nerve wracking, exhausting.

My children are pretty well behaved, as far as children go (I know, I might as well be talking about chimps at the zoo; it's all relative). Maybe it's the cabin pressure but there's something about being in the confines of a small cylinder suspended in the sky that is guaranteed to bring out the worst in them.

I want to wear a sign around my neck that says, simply, "sorry". I may as well get it out there in advance. I want you to know that I've done everything I possibly can to ensure the flight is as child-free as being on a plane with small children can be. For us, just as much as for you.

Our journey begins the night before. We need to get to the airport early because we're unable to check in online travelling with an infant.

We dream of being there early enough to be given a bulkhead seat with a sky cot for the baby, and we live in fear of getting there too late to be allocated seats all together. There's strength in numbers. We're so worried, we've shelled out for a hotel near the airport the night before, just to make sure.

But the preparation for the journey begins even sooner. I've been fortifying and gathering supplies for days, if not weeks. I've bought new books for the toddler, in the hope they'll hold her attention for longer as she hasn't seen them before.

I've hidden the iPad so that, having gone cold turkey for a few days, the novelty is renewed. I've bought her toddler-friendly headphones and we've practiced using them - the 30-minute screen time ruling I impose relaxed for the duration of the flight. I've got snacks to fill her up and treats with which to bribe her.

I'm almost grateful that she's now a toddler and we must pay for a seat. Air travel might cost us a small fortune now, but at least she gets a space of her own. On our laps, her legs are long enough to kick the seat in front, and her arms long enough to release the seat-back tray. Keeping toddler limbs pinned for a long haul flight left us battered and bruised.

But I'm sorry if her elevation to seat-worthy status lands her in the seat next to you. She's not very good at respecting personal space yet, has shocking table manners and will ask questions repeatedly and without rest throughout the flight. Please humour her. Or ignore her. She won't really mind which.

The baby is easier. There's not much that can't be fixed by feeding him. I promise we'll do whatever we can to keep crying to the minimum. But his ears will hurt as we take off and land, and there's a lot to take in on board, which will inevitably overstimulate him. And let's face it, he's a baby - crying is what he does.

None of it is done intentionally or maliciously. They're just children. So please don't tut and huff and sigh. It really doesn't help. Have some compassion. For even if you've never been THAT family, you were a child once. And we all have somewhere we need to be.

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