Nightmare

You'll know when it's time to stop flying with your children but without your husband when

1. as soon as you the fasten seatbelt light goes off, you find yourself in the 18”x18” airplane bathroom with one child covered neck to heel in diarrhea and the other hanging on your leg, begging to use the toilet (for #2), threatening not to hold it while you are frantically wiping the other child down and wondering what to do with the poopy clothes and how to dress your now naked child. Someone is knocking on the bathroom door.
2. after spending too long in the bathroom, you’re welcomed back to your seats by the distinct odor of air sanitizer. Thanks.
3. one child spills her drink on the seat and screams at irregular intervals.
4. the other child talks too loudly and demands things in a rude way for everyone to hear.
5. the person sitting behind you has to retrieve and return fallen toys more than a dozen times.
6. you spend the last half hour of the plane ride watching your inconsolable 18-month-old writhe on the floor of the plane, screaming on the top of her lungs. She won’t let you hold her.
7. you feel like crying almost the entire flight.
8. more people than the number of this list approach you after the flight to console, sympathize and advise.

Yeah. I think I’m done flying with the kids and without Luke. Nightmare.