Traveling with a terrorist

If you want to see the good and bad in people, travel with a toddler.

As the looks of disdain for daring to leave the house and enter the real world with your two year old come at you as fast as trees passing by your car window as you drive 60 miles an hour, at some point you will need your own time out. 

All the judgment hurled at you will eventually turn inward and then exit back like a boomerang and you will begin to hate people and wish there was an alternate universe just for families with small children. 

Just as you are imagining what you would like to do to all those people, (ie take them hostage and have your son waterboard them with his sippy cup), someone will open a door, or smile at you in understanding and you will come back into your body and decide to let the others off the hook at least until the return flight when the above mentioned will happen all over again.

No matter how much you prepare, (bring snacks and toys he has never seen or eaten, his favorite toys that fit in your bag of tricks, every convenient store non parishable healthy item (yeah right), an emergency pacifier even though you have weaned him in the last few weeks, and everything else you thought might make a difference) instinctively your toddler knows that he can hold you hostage during the flight, and the more that you try to control the situtation, the more out of control he will become.

Perhaps there is a greater lesson here - our toddlers are trying to teach us to let go of control, to not care what others think, to relax and in turn they will relax, or perhaps they just enjoy watching us squirm and sharpen our skills for negotiating with terrorists.

Whatever the case or lesson, just know that the mom next to you with the screaming kid - shlepping a stroller, car seat, bag of tricks with well thought out emergency toys and snacks, and small convenience store items for every conceiveable occurance. . .

if she was able to drive to her sister's wedding or hop on a train with a private compartment rather than endure your judgements and nasty looks. . .

. . . she would have.