Jenni Mortimer shares her tale of the tears, tantrums and triumphs of travelling with a toddler.
As I sat down for the 13-and-a-half-hour trip to Vancouver with my 3-year-old son, I felt smug. A bag full of snacks, an iPad full of shows and a pile of new toys for him to discover - I had it all.
After all, I had meticulously prepared for this trip, reading blogs, buying the gimmick travel tools, and creating a run sheet in my head.
But as dinner service concluded and tray tables remained down, my son went on a rampage that filled me with regret. Muffins, cups of tea and fruit chunks were strewn on the floor, my pants were covered in korma and my overtired son was hell-bent on getting off the plane.
The next hour involved tears and a total lack of compassion from fellow passengers who reclined their seats into him as I attempted to comfort him.
But what started off as a trip from hell turned into the best trip of my life as I realised not only the incredible resilience of my son, but my own resilience too as I surrendered to a new type of exploration – that of travelling with a toddler.
With borders opening, I finally got the chance to visit my family and introduce them to my son. So I booked the tickets, flew into Vancouver and drove for three hours to stay with my family in Washington State.
Cue the tears in the back seat, overtired tantrums, and jetlag.
But as we settled into a night at the hotel, ordered room service, and shared a super-king bed, I began to see why travelling with a toddler was the best thing ever.