“We’re not sure where your car seat is.”
Those are eight words no traveling parent ever wants to hear. But as we hauled our two kids (a 9-month-old and a 3-year-old) through the quiet El Paso airport late at night, scanning for any service desks still open at 9:30 p.m., we couldn’t help but laugh. “Just another datapoint,” I said, grinning as I squeezed my husband’s hand. Because really, what else can you do when your car seat doesn’t arrive at your destination and you still have a three-hour drive ahead?
That kind of calm might seem crazy, but my family is no stranger to tough travel. We spent over a year living nomadically, visiting nearly 30 countries along the way. We pulled it off without ever checking a bag and built up a resilience that made even the longest travel days—like this one in El Paso—feel doable.
That said, traveling with a tiny baby was new for us. Thanks to COVID-19 closures, we didn’t start traveling with my oldest until he was almost a year old. So when our second came along, we had a whole new set of skills to figure out and questions to answer. How rough is air pressure on an infant’s ears? Can my daughter do tummy time in the aisle? How do you keep a brand-new crawler busy on a long flight?
Fast-forward nine months, and my little girl has been on 20 flights. That’s 20 takeoffs, 20 landings, 20 aisles paced up and down, 40 walks through airports, and close to 50 diaper changes mid-flight. In a lot of ways, taking 20 flights in nine months is like running the same experiment again and again. It’s not always fun, there are definitely surprises, and you’ll gather a lot of data before it’s over.
Here’s what I’ve learned—the hard way—so you don’t have to.
Lesson 1: Avoid gate check at all costs.
In those 20 flights, our gate-checked car seat got lost twice. A 10% failure rate might not sound terrible, but when each mishap means waiting at a deserted luggage carousel, hunting down the right airline staff, wrestling with a flimsy loaner car seat, and sorting out the return logistics, that small percentage suddenly feels a whole lot bigger.
I’m usually a die-hard carry-on traveler. Even with two kids, we never take more than two backpacks. But in this case? I’d actually recommend checking your car seat over gate-checking. Even better, look for gear you can bring onboard. The Yoyo2 stroller fits in the overhead bin, so it never has to go below. And if there’s any open seat on the plane, gate agents will often let you bring your car seat on—just ask.
Lesson 2: Budget airlines cut corners on more than snacks and baggage.
With all the travel we’ve done this year, we’ve often relied on budget airlines to save money. And while I knew to expect fewer perks—paying for snacks, strict size limits on bags—the real surprise was this: Budget airlines won’t seat your family together unless you pay for assigned seats. On every single one of our seven budget flights—even when the plane was half-empty—our seats were scattered all over, and we couldn’t change them at the gate.
Now, it wasn’t the end of the world; kind passengers swapped with us on all but one flight. But it’s worth remembering: If you’re flying budget and want to sit together, you’ll probably be counting on the kindness of strangers.
Lesson 3: Variety is the best entertainment.
One of the top questions I get about flying with little kids is: “What toys should I bring?” or “What will keep them busy for six hours?” My quick answer? There’s no magic fix, but variety and newness work wonders.
Part of the trick is realizing how fast babies change in their first year. What worked at 3 months was useless by 5 months—but sometimes, those same 3-month toys could be repurposed by 8 months. Also, most babies under 1 can’t focus on a screen for more than a few minutes. My best move was cycling through different options to see what clicked.
Now, “variety” doesn’t mean hauling your whole toy box. My daughter has been mesmerized by a crinkly plastic cup, the elastic on a luggage tag, and even the shiny airline snack menu. We also bring glossy paper calendars and a roll of painter’s tape—they’re great for sensory play, take up no space, and can be tossed if they get wrecked. And don’t underestimate just moving—walk the aisle, do tummy time on your empty seat, or visit the galley.
Lesson 4: Dress in layers—and that includes you.
When flying with a baby, messes are guaranteed. But in tight spaces, taking off a dirty layer is way easier than putting a new one on. I always dress my daughter in a onesie or T-shirt with a stretchy, breathable sweatshirt over it. I care so much about travel-friendly kids’ clothes that I started my own company, First Peak, to make them.
And don’t forget yourself. After one brutal cross-country flight with a diaper explosion and a motion-sick toddler, my husband stepped off the plane in chilly San Francisco wearing nothing but swim trunks and a T-shirt. Packing a spare for yourself is easy to overlook—but it’s often a lifesaver.
Lesson 5: There aren’t “good fliers” and “bad fliers.”
After 20 flights with my daughter, people often say, “She must be a pro by now.” But honestly? I don’t think there’s such a thing as “good” or “bad” fliers. Sure, she’s had plenty of tear-free flights and gotten more adaptable over time. But for no obvious reason, her 20th flight was a nonstop screamfest from takeoff to landing. Some days are easy; others are… not.
The bright side? In all those flights, I’ve been met with so much kindness during the rough patches. Seatmates who joked about their noise-canceling headphones, strangers who played Patty Cake or even offered to hold her for a minute. Every time I started to panic, I found a reassuring smile nearby.
Instead of trying to train a “good flier,” I focus on creating the best environment I can. Because in the end, the flight is just a way to get somewhere—an adventure, a celebration, or a reunion is always just past that seatbelt sign.