Why I Will Never Fly With My Kids Alone AGAIN

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Because my son is two.

Because there is no safe room in which to put my son when he throws a tantrum (like at home).

Because when you have to turn Sleeping Beauty off so the pilot can land the plane, my son will lose it.

Because sitting next to a screaming, red faced, furious two year old while all the other passengers stare at you is embarrassing.

Because my son can throw a temper tantrum for an hour - an HOUR! - without stopping.

Because when your son decides to go limp and you are 18 weeks pregnant and have a 3 year old, a car seat, two carry-ons and your daughter's stuffed bear to carry, you can't just pick him up.

Because the flight attendant will say to you in a syrupy voice, "Oh dear! Someone looks mad! What can I do?" as your son tries to kick the seat in front of him and wails "No!" repeatedly. And all you want to do is hand her your son and say, "Can you gate check this please?"

Because my husband could hear us coming five minutes before he saw us.

Because my daughter's screaming, "Brother, you stop crying RIGHT NOW!" wasn't helpful.

Because other people were telling me to beat my child. (Seriously. Two women told me "If that were my kid, he would have gotten a spanking by now." Please explain to me how smacking my child will get him to stop crying? I have never understood that.)

Because when I forget about this little incident, and decide to take my kids up to San Francisco by myself in a few months, you will write me brief note, reminding me to read this blog post.