Posted by on Jun 20, 2011 in babies on airplanes, new mom and traveling, pennsylvania, traveling, traveling with a baby | 7 comments

My mom likes to say that I have a little grey cloud over my head that follows me around. 
Nothing truly bad has ever happened to me, but I seem to be constantly dealing with little logistical annoyances. Like a broken washer right before a weekend road trip. That finally gets repaired two weeks after it initially breaks. But then still doesn’t work. So it’s taken in to be repaired for another week. Only to discover that it had been fixed properly the first time and the repairman just didn’t run the correct diagnostic test.
And when I decide to just stop worrying about the godforsaken washer and rent a movie to relax… that movie will freeze 45 minutes in and we’ll discover a huge scratch on the back of the DVD. After we’ve already paid a late fee for keeping the darned thing too long.
Or like how Every. Single. Time. I get an incorrect charge on a bill and I call to get it reversed, the moron on the phone accidentally charges me again instead of taking off the initial wrong charge. 
Or how I’ll get a flat tire on my way to a bridal shower. And again in the heat of the summer in Phoenix when I’m wearing black dress pants and I have to pee. And again when I’m 8 months pregnant and my friend has forgotten to renew her AAA membership.
As it turns out, it’s not that I have bad karma. It’s that the universe has been saving up all my good karma for one specific moment in time. 
A five-hour flight home after a hectic six-day trip back East. We have a tired, teething kid who does NOT want you to hold him for more than 30 seconds. The flight fills up and we wait for the inevitable third person to join us in our row. We lament how great it would be  if that seat would just for once stay empty.
I can’t hope for that,” I say.
There’s no way we’re that lucky,” he says.
More people file down the rows. The overhead baggage areas fill up and are closed. 
Someone is definitely going to take this seat,” I say.

A woman asks the person ahead of us to switch seats with her. He agrees. Now only flight attendants are milling up and down the aisles.
We look at each other for a brief moment and then stare straight back ahead, desperate to not jinx this.
The pilot comes on the intercom with a “The cabin doors are sealed…”
And we high-five and we spread out and we take off and we lay Ryan down on the seat between us and we have leg room (!) and Ryan is falling asleep.
I whip out my camera and take pictures of this amazing moment.

Then I whip out my laptop and begin furiously typing about our good fortune and how a broken washer for three weeks is totally, utterly, completely worth the good karma we banked for this flight.
And right as I’m wrapping up the post, Ryan gets a little agitated and starts rolling around on his seat in discomfort. And then we smell it. 
We look at each other for a brief moment and Mike leans down to sniff and confirm.

Yep. He pooped. Five minutes into the flight.
Oh, hello there, little grey cloud. I missed you.