Clarair

Two weeks from now, I will be boarding an airplane for Colorado to attend my sister-in-law’s graduation from the Air Force Academy. Katie will also be joining me on this high-altitude voyage, and since I’ve yet to do a cost analysis on multi-day compensation wages for babysitters, a certain lap jockey will take her first commercial plane ride ever.

(Joanie, it’s not too late to “borrow” a jet and pick us up.)

Thinking back, my five most recent trips on airplanes have included destinations of Charleston, New Mexico, San Diego, St. Lucia, and Maine. 3 of these were vacations with Katie, another was work-related, and the last was ended unfortunately when Chris Nordberg was killed by coyotes. Regardless, packing a carry-on bag for any of these excursions is a remarkably simple endeavor. Within your shoulder bag, you probably pack an mp3 player, a laptop (if you have a final MBA project to finish en route to thy honeymoon), a book you just bought in the terminal, a bottle of water and some gum, and just to freak out your rowmates, something weird – like a live fish. Once seated, you move the essentials into that seat pocket with the SkyMall magazine and stow the rest up above.

Something tells me flying with Clara won’t be quite that easy.

Prior to the delivery, you spend your time accumulating the gamut of goods that will assist you in being a good parent. After all, babies don’t come with an instruction manual, and they certainly abide by the marketing adage, “accessories sold separately.” Hopefully, with some luck and generosity of close friends and family, you’ve got your place outfitted for infant invasion in time for that trip home from the hospital. In those first three months, though, you actually find out what from your registry were crucial buys, and what is merely a plus to have.

There’s no way I’m fitting the Crucial Buys into my carry-on.

Now thanks to some intelligent forethought in the hospitality industry, I can rent a baby car seat and a crib from the respective rental car and hotel the Centennial State has to offer. As for the rest, it seems that I’ll need to pack the veritable all-star team of baby supplies in order for this trip to be a minimal-tear success. This list currently includes, but is not limited to the following:

• Bottles – No baby tool is more essential than the means by which you feed the baby. Since someone’s digestive tract only accepts liquid breakfast, lunch, and dinner, a ready supply of bottles will be making the trip from our home to the plane. You see, some people frown upon using the airline’s supply of perfectly-sized airline alcohol bottles after a thorough cleansing of them in the restroom. Go figure.
• A tarp – The plane ride is about five hours, which means at least one guaranteed feeding time will pass. This item is for the benefit of the passengers sitting the row behind us. Trust me on this one.
• Stroller – Here’s the thing about babies. From the time I first met Clara, she’s increased in size by about 50%. Wow, that really got out of hand fast. Holding her for five days in higher altitude will do a number on my arms. This is non-negotiable – the stroller is getting checked on the plane. Our brand is Peg Perego. It’s Italian, which means that it’s stylish, trendy, and will lose any major battle with any other stroller anywhere. (Note: I called it Pinot Grigio for the first two months. Warrants mentioning.)
• Baby Bjorn – For places where four-wheelers dare not go, we have a Baby Bjorn. For those unfamiliar with the Bjorn, it’s like a baby backpack you wear on your front, giving you a hands-free way to carry the baby. And not only can you operate dining utensils and pick things up with the best of them, it confuses the heck out of the baby as to how productive you’re being. Ok, that’s two good inventions for the Swedes (after Ikea, of course.) 8 more, and we’ll let you forget about The Cardigans. Lovefool, my foot.
• Baby headphones – I figure a cross-country flight is just as good a time as any to teach Clara to not believe hippies and critics of pop: Dear, “world music” is terrible. Those people who swear by “world music?” They’re doomed to fail in life. Then I’ll bet the baby 10 bucks that the guy with the ponytail across the aisle that just ordered a Diet Fresca from the drink cart has his headphones tuned to world music. (This will be immediately followed by a monologue as to why gambling is wrong.)