Positively Parenting

By Tara Lindis

Breastfeeding is not popular in Singapore. Maternity leave is short and formula is such a big business that lactation consultants will even tell breastfeeding mothers to wean their babies when the going gets tired. Yet during the six months I lived in Singapore I continued to nurse my almost-toddler-son, and not for some breast is best superiority thing or what the WHO says or because it makes kids smarter or whatever. I continued (as one of four women nursing children older than twelve months on the entire island of Singapore) for the purely selfish reason that when our time abroad ended, I wanted to be able to nurse my son on the plane so he would fall asleep during take-off and I could have some peace and quiet. (I admit I also continued breastfeeding for the purely selfish reason that it burns between 500 and 1000 calories a day. I can’t help it – I like to eat.)

After we lived in Singapore, we spent five months in Bali, and then our time abroad came to an end. As predicted, my son nursed himself to sleep during the take-off on our flight from Bali to Singapore. In fact, he nursed during take-off, the two and a half hour flight and during the landing. He nursed again during the take-off on our flight from Singapore to Tokyo and again proceeded to nurse the majority of the six-hour flight. By the time, we got onto our flight in Tokyo bound for Los Angeles, I was exhausted, depleted, and starving.

When the beverage trolley came by on our Tokyo flight soon after my son passed out during take-off, I asked for a gin and tonic. The flight attendant looked at me and then at my son passed out in my lap.

“Would you like a double?” She asked.

“Indeed.” I said.

“I can only imagine.” She said.

My husband asked for a glass of wine. She gave him two bottles.

We toasted each other and all our travels. I also toasted my lactation consultant who approved the drinking of cocktails and wine (albeit done responsibly, slowly, and with food). We had ten more hours of flight ahead of us, plus another hour for baggage and customs and at least an hour of traffic in LA before we’d arrive to where we were staying. In that moment, it felt epic, and epic on the scale of literature, of Odysseus taking ten years to come home after the Trojan War, of Frodo Baggins setting out to get the ring, of Dante in the Divine Comedy. In that moment, the comparison did not seem hyperbolic.

After we arrived, ate, and had a night’s sleep, I still felt exhausted, depleted and starving, but I felt better having arrived. I realized that in a lot of ways, traveling with a toddler (and probably with children in general) is like labor and childbirth, in that in the moment, it feels like forever and like it will never end, but after sleep and food, it doesn’t seem as long. Also like labor and childbirth, the way to get through traveling with children is to do what works for you in the moment – and in the end, it doesn’t matter how you get through it, but just that you do get through it.

And now that we’re home, did I wean my son? Of course not. We have flights scheduled the next few months.

Tara Lindis has taught English Literature and Composition classes at community colleges in Denver, Colorado, and has spent the last year living in Singapore and Bali, writing, and raising her soon-to-be toddler son. She blogs at www.taralindis.com.

Read more of Tara's blogs:

What Warm Nights Lead To...

Sharing Some Thoughts on Sharing

Wanting the Bath

Sharing: The Hard Part

Taking the Baby on the Road