We’ve just returned home from a visit to my in-laws in New York.Â The trip was fabulous.Â It was a great opportunity to bond with special people whom we don’t get to see often enough.
I do wish, however, that there were an easier way to get there.Â Flying cross-country with two children under three is not exactly my idea of a great time.
And so I’ve decided that there should be a patron saint for air travel with small children.Â This saint would be called St. JoMoJudAnt. Why the odd name?
Well, “Jo” is for St. Joseph of Cupertino, the patron saint of air travel:
“Mo” for St. Monica, who is an absolute exemplar of maternal patience.Â Â Â (Of course, she did not have to deal with a fractious toddler who threw his socks and refused to keep his seat belt buckled).
“Jud” is for St.Jude, the patron saint of desperate situations.Â (That one is self-explanatory.)
“Ant” for Anthony of Padua, the patron saint of lost articles.Â After everyone else had deplaned, Scott and I were still crawling like snipers under the seats looking for my cellphone (which turned out, of course, to be in the diaper bag.)