There’s a particular kind of silence that hits different on an airplane. The engines hum, the lights dim, and, for parents of babies and toddlers, every muscle tightens just a little.
That’s where dad and content creator Akshat Arora (@themoderndadedit) found himself on a long-haul flight to Dubai: toddler watching cartoons, newborn tucked into his arms, the cabin settling in around them. And then it happened.
Not the crying. The look.
A passenger a few rows away shot what Arora described as a “disgusted look” the moment his baby cried from the pressure change. “That look said everything about what’s wrong with the world today,” he wrote.
His reel shared with his 1.3 million viewers laid out a truth that parents feel deeply: people can choose a child-free life, but they can’t demand a child-free world.
This story has turned into something bigger than a midair moment. It tapped into a collective tension so many parents live with: shrinking themselves in public long before their child makes a single sound.
The work that happens before wheels even leave the ground
If you’ve ever flown with a baby or toddler, you know the mental checklist you start days in advance.
The snacks.
The bottles.
The headphones.
The emergency crayons.
The backup outfit for you and for them.
The little silent prayer that maybe—just maybe—this will be the flight where everything goes smoothly.
Arora put it plainly in an interview with Newsweek: “No parent boards a plane hoping their child cries. No mom or dad enjoys the anxiety of a tantrum at 36,000 feet. We pack the snacks, toys, bottles, milk, iPads, spare clothes, emergency distraction items, and still pray the flight goes smoothly.”
That anticipatory anxiety? It’s real.
Related: The $3 item parents swear by for keeping babies and toddlers entertained on flights
When a tiny body meets a huge sensory overload
Babies and toddlers don’t cry on airplanes because they’re misbehaving—they cry because biologically, they’re dealing with more than their little systems can handle.
Pressure changes can cause ear pain (crying actually helps pop their ears).
Cabins are loud, cramped, and unfamiliar.
Toddlers don’t yet have the neural wiring for self-regulation in overwhelming environments.
Experts recommend simple tools: nursing, bottles, pacifiers, chewy snacks, pressure-relieving sippy cups, favorite loveys, and predictable comfort items. These aren’t magic, they’re just support for small bodies in a big world.
Even the best-prepared parent can still have a tough flight. Effort doesn’t always match outcome.
Related: Southwest flight attendant saves the day with a crying baby midair
The silent message behind the glare
Parents in Arora’s comments knew that look immediately.
“I still cannot forget my first travel with my daughter and the lady sitting in front of us, made me so uncomfortable just by her looks,” one mom wrote.
Others shared that they felt the need to apologize for simply existing on the plane with their children.
When a stranger hits you with that expression, it does something to your body. It’s the micro-shame, the “everyone is judging me,” the spike in cortisol that makes you sweat under your baby carrier. For moms who already carry cultural pressure to “keep it together” that glare becomes another layer of emotional labor.
Arora’s toddler? Quiet.
His newborn? In his arms.
The judgment? Immediate.
“Travel isn’t a luxury for many families,” he said. “It’s necessity, connection, culture, caregiving [and] life.”
When personal preference collides with public life
The comments under Arora’s reel became a cultural debate in real time.
Some echoed empathy:
“Some grown-ups just forgot they ever cried, kicked seats or overwhelmed the world too. If silence is your standard, book private. Public spaces weren’t built around your comfort.” — themoderndadedit
Others came in hot:
“Your kids your responsibility! Don’t make them someone else’s problem! If I pay premium to fly in peace I demand that peace.”
And then there were the ugly threads—racist slurs and attacks directed at Arora’s children. For him, those responses confirmed the point:
“The reaction proved exactly why the reel needed to exist.”
The right to be child-free is real. But using that choice to police public spaces—planes, hotels, restaurants, places where families must be—is a growing cultural tension that parents feel acutely.
Adults-only spaces exist. Families respect boundaries. But most of life happens in shared zones, and shared zones require shared humanity.
Related: Viral video shows airplane passenger screaming in anger over a crying baby on his flight
Small strategies that can ease a tough flight
A few grounded, mom-approved tips:
Before the flight
- Pack a layered bag: snacks, sensory toys, loveys, wipes, backup clothes.
- Choose flight times that align with sleep if possible.
- Talk to older toddlers about what to expect: loud noises, seatbelts, ears popping.
Onboard
- Prioritize ear comfort during takeoff/landing (nursing, pacifier, sippy cup, snack).
- Lean into screens if they help—coping tools > ideals.
- If co-parenting, divide responsibilities and switch halfway.
Emotionally
- Repeat grounding phrases: “My child is allowed to exist here.”
- Let the glares roll off and anchor into your kid—not the crowd.
To the parent already dreading the next flight
If you’re replaying someone’s glare in your mind tonight, wondering if you should stay home next time, this is for you.
Kids learn how to be in the world by being in the world.
Messily. Noisily. Imperfectly.
That’s how development works.
There are so many people—parents, future parents, child-free allies—who see you doing your best and are silently cheering you on.
Arora put it simply:
“We don’t just need child-friendly spaces; we need child-friendly mindsets.”
And he’s right.
Showing up with your kids isn’t an inconvenience. It’s an act of parenting, of connection, of building a life that doesn’t pause just because someone on Row 11 prefers quiet.