Paris for the Babar crowd

Flying around the world with toddlers is not for the faint-of-heart. It requires great planning, an abundance of patience and a large quantity of sedatives, if available. I spent a fair amount of time planning; I brought their favorite toys, their blankies, special in-flight surprises and, in case all else failed, Baby Benadryl. I bought car seats to confine them and then hired our babysitter to fly with me. What could go wrong?

We first flew to Detroit where we stopped, had dinner and a bad glass of wine, let the kids run and play and then boarded the plane for the trans-Atlantic flight to Paris. The kids were excited; I was excited, yet I was also fully cognizant that the next few hours could be some of the worst of my life. Alex played for a few minutes and then fell asleep. Kate could not relax and did not sleep. We spent hours trying to get her to do so. I had a black blanket to block out the overhead lights. She was snuggled to her blankie and had a healthy dose of Benadryl. I gave her all the tricks in my proverbial bag and still she cried.

The honeymooners a couple seats over were glaring at me- wondering how I could have possibly thought this was a good idea. They must not have seen the article in The New York Times a few days prior that announced Paris was a great destination for the "Babar crowd." Too bad they probably didn't know who Babar was.

We did eventually land in Paris- once all the planning, patience, and sedatives were spent. At least now we could commiserate over a good glass of wine- a really good glass of wine.