No matter what it is, I will always choose the ‘stress-free’ option. However, ‘going on holiday with 16 month old twins’ and ‘stress-free’ don’t go very well in the same sentence – unless of course you add the words ‘will definitely NOT be’ in the middle.
I cheated. We went with my parents. Not only did we go with them, but they did all of the research into the holiday. They found a villa that had fencing around the pool, child gates inside, two highchairs, two travel cots and even chose the package based on its family friendly flight times. RESULT! *Chest bumps husband* (And then remembered where that got us last time. :-S) It turns out that other people put the work in too – there were FIFTEEN babies on the flight. Eew. If I wasn’t a parent myself I would’ve been absolutely horrified. Instead I was relieved that the odds of my girlies being the only ones going mental were greatly reduced. Whoop whoop!
We got on the plane and the man sat next to me immediately asked the cabin crew if he could move to a spare seat he had spotted. The flight attendant replied that there would be a charge as it was an exit seat. ‘Oh’. He then looked awkwardly at me. “Just so that you could have some more space for your child” (who keeps staring at him intently and trying to remove his glasses). Yeah, I’m sure that’s the reason. What a thoughtful fella you are. I’m pretty sure that my kids are considered average on the scale of ‘annoying brats’, but that was enough for him – 10 minutes later he paid the money and moved anyway. Charming.
You can’t have two babies on one row of a plane, so I had Girlie Two on my lap next to my Dad and Mr TMAOT had Girlie One with my Step Mum. The stranger next to my husband also happened to do the same as the bloke next to me. I’m sure this was a complete coincidence and in no way a reflection of how hideous my children behave in public. Got to be a fluke, right? Right???
My Dad had a lager and also a rum with coke – no points for guessing his coping strategy. Girlie Two was fascinated by the miniature bottle and sometimes (just sometimes) it’s soooooooo much easier to let them have the object of their affection rather than deal with the screeching and back-arching when they don’t get what they want. Given that we were within the confines of a Boeing 747, I let her get on with it. She was standing up on her chair repeating ‘Dadadadadadada,’ unsteady on her feet and gripping a miniature bottle of Bacardi in her hand. Aww… just like her Mummy.
All in all the flight was fine. The girlies played with toys, drank milk, ate more ricecakes than any child should and chewed the safety card. It was the child in the row across the aisle went bats**t crazy. I gave the Mum a smile that I hoped came across as ‘Can’t kids can be horrible little berks sometimes?!?’ rather than ‘Look how wonderful MY children are behaving whilst your son is BEING a horrible little berk’. It could have been any one of us dealing with a screamer. Our fate had been decided by the hands of toddler behaviour gods. Hope as we might, one day it will be us receiving sympathetic smiles from fellow Mummy’s and eye rolls from non-parent types.
If you were reading this with the hope that I might have some handy tips on how to make your flight with twins easier – I should apologise. My blog is never going to be full of useful advice. Although I have survived twins (so far) I don’t feel like I have any useful knowledge to impart onto others. The best you can hope for is a ‘me too’ feeling and the occasional chuckle. Once again, I’m sorry.