After reading all the responses to my post, Ivana Trump Harasses two little kids on a flight, I can not believe how many people think that kids do not belong on the airplane. Some people even suggested that airlines create a kid section, like a smoking section in a restaurant. While I, too, get annoyed when there's a little stinker sitting behind me screaming his head off and kicking the back of my seat WHILE the parents do nothing, not all children (just like not all adults) are trouble makers in flight . In fact, I'd say most children do just fine at 35,000 feet. I know my little one is a fantastic traveling partner. Can't say the same thing about other people I know.

The kid, my kid, and I just flew from Los Angeles to Honolulu. That kid, the one up there in the photo, the one that causes worried looks during the boarding process, only to be complimented for being such a good boy while deplaning, has traveled about once a month since he was three months old. The kid loves going to the airport with mommy. Mommy hasn't always loved going to the airport with him, not with all the stuff that has to be dragged along on the flight. Until now.

If you have kids you already how difficult it can be traveling, especially when everyone aboard the aircraft is giving you the evil eye, and your kid hasn't even done anything wrong! Taking along the little one can be very stressful, especially when you're lugging all that stuff that's going to entertain the kid. (stickers, crayons, books, the DVD player, all of it!) Trust me, I know it's a lot to carry, along with a kid and a thirty pound car seat, but you need it! Please tell me you didn't forget it?

Good news, people, traveling with children doesn't have to be so bad. Move over Sit-N-Stroll (the worlds best invention ever for kids under two years of age) there's a new product in town - CARES. CARES stands for child aviation restraint system. According to the Kidsflysafe website...

it's designed specially for airplanes and is FAA certified as having an equivalent level of safety to a car seat for all phases of flight. CARES is manufactured by AmSafe, the foremost manufacturer of airplane seatbelts and other safety restraints. Best of all, CARES weighs only 1 lb, fits in a 6" carrying case, fits all airplane seats and takes a mere 1 minute to install.

It was Monday morning and we (my mother, my husband, my son, and I) were in the rental car, a bright red Malibu, on our way from a relaxing long weekend in Ko Olina to the Honolulu airport, when I heard a long sigh from the back seat.

"I don't want to leave," said my mother, also a flight attendant, as she stared out the window at a city she once called home forty years ago. Believe it or not, this was her first trip back.

"Me, neither," I said, as the exit sign to Pearl Harbor, where my father had once worked, passed over our heads.

The husband, who was actually ready to leave, just shook his head. "Yeah, well, some of us have to go back to work."

Thank goodness I'm not one of us, I remember thinking, as the airport came into view. Way off in the distance, Diamond Head. That's when I heard my mother say, "You know I dropped my next trip, that Phoenix trip."

"Me, too! I dropped my horrid twenty-hour, three-day."

That's just one of the amazing things about my job, flexibility. We can pretty much work whenever we want, as long as there's a trip available to pick up, or someone willing to take our trip, which is usually not a problem when based in New York, the most junior base in the system.

I turned all the way around in my seat and looked at the woman who had a twinkle in her eye. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

My mother smiled real big and shrugged. "Maybe."

The husband just shook his head again. "You ladies better make up your mind! We're almost there."

As my mother flipped open her cell phone and started dialing the airline to check the passenger loads home on Wednesday, I dialed the Marriott hotel in Waikiki to see if they offered a crew discount.

Yet another amazing thing about the job. We actually get cheap rates at many hotels, as well as discounts on car rentals.

"The flight home is open," my mother said, snapping her phone shut.

I've learned some pretty amazing things from flight attendants, like how to mask the horrible lavatory smell with a single packet of coffee and how to make coffee taste better by using a drop of club soda and an extra coffee bag in the pot. All of these amazing tips lead me to believe that flight attendants are some of the most creative and knowledgeable people in the world. Seriously, you wouldn't believe some of the things I've learned in the galley.

On my last trip from New York to Los Angeles, I was instructed on how to choose the perfect eggplant. According to Kim, one of my fellow coworkers, there are "girl" and "boy" eggplants. For real. Because the "boy" eggplants have the least amount of seeds inside, those are the ones you want when you're making eggplant parmigiana, or an eggplant casserole, which is what I'm going to attempt tonight, thanks to Kim and her Italian recipes.

Each and every time I come into contact with a flight attendant, I learn something new and interesting and unusual. What I learn could be just about anything, really, but whatever it is, that one little nugget of information somehow manages to change my life in some way. Well it happened again. Today.

Today's amazing flight attendant tip of the day comes from Frank, a Gadling reader who is also a flight attendant for an airline I do not know. He had commented on my post, The best thing about being a flight attendant - Travel! Apparently, travel is the last thing Frank wants to do on his day off. In fact, the best thing about being a flight attendant for Frank are the days off, not traveling on the days off. I have to admit, I like my days off almost as much as I enjoy traveling, which is why being a flight attendant is the perfect job for me. One of the main reasons Frank loves his days off so much is because he lives in one of the most exciting cities in the world, New York. You see when you live in New York City, there's really no need to travel - that often, not when you have it all at your finger tips, or a short drive away.

But if you are a New Yorker, or are traveling to New York, or any other big city for that matter, and you do decide to venture out, you're probably going to take public transportation, which isn't always the easiest thing in the world to figure out, especially in a fast paced city like Manhattan. If you do find yourself lost in an unfamiliar place, do what Frank does and go to Hopstop.com.

Here's what Frank had to say about the website...

Ivana, Ivana, Ivana, you do not - I repeat - you do NOT call a child a barbarian. Out loud. On a flight. Oh sure, you can think it, we're all probably thinking it, but to outright say it....I don't think so. Not a good idea.

Now I probably would not have believed this story about a passenger who is suing Ivana Trump for calling his two adorable children names - ages 3 and 18 months - or the fact that Ivana has filed her own counter suit against the passenger who created those little barbarians. But the fact that the word barbarian was used to describe two little children, well...that is just so so wrong. Which only means it has to be true!

The best thing, by far, about being a flight attendant, besides all the cool people you get to work with and all the interesting passengers you meet, is being able to travel anywhere in the world (as long as there's an airport) at a moments notice on your day off - for free! Well...that is as long as there's an open seat on the airplane. So when the husband had to go to Carmel, California for work two weeks ago, I jumped on the computer, logged onto the airline website, and pulled up the passenger loads.

Oh. My. Goodness. I couldn't believe my eyes! The flight to Carmel was open. As in wide open! Which was kind of weird, because the flights these days are never open. Immediately my fingers began clicking the keyboard as fast as they could type, checking the passenger loads on the return flight back to Los Angeles. Unbelievable. The flight home was also open. Not wide open, no, but there were seats available, and more than two of them. Two seats, that's all I needed.

I yelled out, "We're going with you!" We, being, the kid and I.

That's when I realized I hadn't been back to Carmel since my son was born, a little over two years ago! What a shame, considering Carmel is one of my favorite places to go for a quick weekend getaway. What's so great about Carmel? Everything!

The town of Carmel is charming, located just steps away from the ocean. There you will find peace and relaxation as well as galleries and restaurants. For me, nothing compares to an early morning jog on the winding path overlooking the breathtaking beach while the fog rolls in, followed by a scrumptious breakfast at Katy's. Don't even get me started on the flowers, particularly the lavender, which makes the place smell so good, especially this time of year!

When I was growing up, my parents taught me that traveling by airplane was a luxury, not a right, and it was a luxury I would not experience until I was 16 years old when I flew to Los Angeles, California with a high school friend (and her mother) on American Airlines for an exciting weekend getaway. I'll never forget that flight. Then, at 17, I flew to Santa Clara, California, to visit a boyfriend in college on Southwest Airlines. I'll never forget that flight, either. I couldn't even believe I was on it. Back then just being on the flight itself was an exciting experience, never mind the drinks and the food and the service, which I don't even remember. But I'm sure a can of coke and a bag of peanuts were involved.

What I remember most about those two flights was the awe of flying, of looking out the window at the tiny houses below as we climbed up, up, up, until the incredible view became obstructed by something even more magnificent, billowing clouds.

A few years ago I actually met a flight attendant whose very first trip by airplane was to airline headquarters for an interview for the airline he works for now. That flight took place at age of 21. Today, things have changed drastically in the aviation business, and not for the better, if you ask a passenger. Yet the flights are all full, and with more and more children traveling these days. That, alone, makes me wonder, has travel really gotten so bad? Or are our expectations skewed?

"I never got to travel," said my mother, a flight attendant, who started working for a major US carrier in 1997, three afters I had my wings pinned to my blue lapel. "My first flight was with your father to Hawaii, when I was 21, because your father got stationed there in the navy. I got to go home to Texas once - in three years. And because your father spent most of his time at sea, I spent many holidays alone. That's just the way it was. We couldn't afford to travel."

Now that I'm a flight attendant and have the opportunity to fly for free (in coach), I usually take along my two-year son, who has traveled once a month, at least, since he was born. I always get a kick out of watching him leaning against the window, tapping on the glass, as we fly in and out of the clouds, causing him to exclaim at the top of his lungs, "WOW!" I wonder if he'll grow up to appreciate the privilege of travel? I do hope that one day he realizes just how lucky he is. How lucky we all are to be able to get from point A to point B for just a few hundred dollars.

Sitting on the jump-seat in the back of coach, working a flight from New York to Los Angeles aboard a 767, I turned to Stephanie, my coworker, and sighed. "I have to tell you, I was getting a little nervous there for a minute."

"I know," Stephanie laughed, even though she was not laughing an hour ago.

I should have known it was going to be one of those days when I spotted the flight attendant slipping her navy blue pantyhose feet into a cheap pair of white house shoes, the kind you snag from a nice hotel, just to go through security.

"Ma'am," I said eyeing her Travelpro suitcase, not her funny feet, as I placed my own wheelie bag onto the moving conveyor belt, "Are those three large cobs of corn sticking out of the back of your rollaboard?"

"Yes," she said matter of fact.

I laughed, attaching my tote-bag to my rolling bag, but she did not laugh back, as she slipped her feet into a pair of black leather heels, placing the house shoes inside the back pocket of her rollaboard next to the cobs of corn, and walked away.

Okay, that's weird, I remember thinking, as I walked to flight operations. Little did I know, that was just the beginning of weird.

We were midway through the beverage service in coach when it hit me. I had just poured a cup of coffee when I smelled a strange smell. It was the kind of smell you do not want to smell, particularly in flight. Now this wasn't that smell flight attendants often use coffee packets in the lavatory to disguise. Oh no, this was a burning smell. Maybe even a plastic burning smell. Or was it an electrical burning smell? I couldn't tell. While I tried to figure it out, I handed a passenger a cup of water, no ice, and looked across the cart at Stephanie who had three cups of orange juice in one hand.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I asked the next passenger, not making eye contact, as I still stood staring at Stephanie, who would not look at me no matter how long I stared at her.

I cleared my throat, but she did not look, so I glanced across the aisle at Ben, another coworker, who had just handed a passenger a breakfast sandwich. Too busy counting a wad of cash, Ben did not notice me either. As for his partner on the other side of the cart, she was bent over a passenger plugging in a set of headphones into the armrest. Just business as usual flying across the country, except for that strange scent in the cabin that only I seemed to smell.

Though I have no idea when it will actually happen, I can't decide where to travel on my next big vacation...

• Greece
• Hong Kong
• Croatia
• Dubai

That's been my list of dream places to go for the last few years. But now I've got a new place to add to the list, a list that just keeps growing.

• Portugal

Man oh man, the people you meet, the places you want to go...

Alice, my hairdresser is from Portugal, and that's what we talk about every time I see her, which is at least once a month. It was the morning of my Las Vegas trip, and while Alice worked her magic on my hair, I sat in front of the mirror on a swiveling chair catching up on the latest travel magazines that customers before me had left behind. Of course whenever I see Alice I can't help but talk travel while flipping through all those amazing photographs of beautiful places all around the world.

While reading an interesting article about a little town in Croatia, Alice said, "You've got to go to Portugal. It's beautiful." She had just returned from a two week vacation that very week, which explained the dark tan and the honey colored streaks in her auburn hair.

Placing a copy of Travel and Leisure on my lap, I listened as she described Vilamoura, the village by the sea where she grew up, where she had just visited, and as she described the fresh food, seafood of course, I decided right then and there I wanted to go. Soon. If you'd been there with me you'd want to go too! When my curly hair had been straightened as straight as it could get, I went home, got on the computer, and started googling Portugal.

Alice was right. Portugal is beautiful. I do want to go. But with so many places to go, and not enough time to actually go, how does one decide which place to go - first?

Due to short layovers, long work hours, multiple cities flown in a day, and the number of passengers aboard the aircraft, flight attendants can become very forgetful, particularly when it comes to you and something as simple as your drink order, even the one you just ordered.

"I'm sorry did you say orange juice?" I asked the man who had probably said just that, as half the cabin had already ordered exactly that. Orange juice.

Curtly the passenger nodded. I filled a plastic glass with ice, and that's when I realized he may not even want ice, so I asked, "Ice or no ice?" even though I was fairly certain the answer would be no ice. Half the cabin had already requested no ice.

The passenger said something, his lips were moving, but I could not make out what it was he said, so I held up the gray plastic ice scoop and pretended to put ice into his clear plastic cup, and asked, "Ice? Ice?" just as I had done for several passengers before him.

Again the lips moved, yet I still could not figure out what he wanted, so I made a judgment call. I filled up the glass with orange juice. Just juice. No ice. Then I smiled and placed the glass on his tray table. He nodded, took a sip, and on to the next row I went.

Orange juice no ice. Tea. Tea with milk. Tea with milk and sugar. Strangely enough, these were the popular drink choices on my last flight. No, this was not a morning trip to Seattle. This was actually a flight, an evening flight, on a Saturday night of all nights, to Las Vegas, Nevada.

Flight attendants can usually guess what you're drinking based on where you're going. For example, Californians can't get enough bottled water, sparkling water, and club soda, while Texans drink us out of Dr. Pepper, and our Senior Citizens enjoy tomato juice, so imagine my surprise when I constantly found myself running out of hot tea and OJ while serving a rather subdued crowd to Vegas last night. Not normal. Not at all. This was Vegas remember!

"You're going to have so much fun!" said my hairdresser yesterday morning after I told her where I was flying later that evening.

"It's a fun crowd, but a tough one. They keep you busy," I laughed, and then I told her our layover was short, as in ten hours short, which is not enough time to have fun. The days of fun are long gone. I really miss those days. My how things have changed.

"I'm so jealous! I want to go with you!" said a woman with foils in her hair sitting beside me.

"Oh no you don't. Our layover is really short," I said again, and then I told her about the demanding Las Vegas crowd, the one that keeps you busy the entire flight.

Now I hadn't flown to Vegas in over six months, but the last time I found myself behind the drink cart I couldn't get out of the aisle. Nor could I keep the liquor drawer stocked. Yet strangely enough on my flight last night the beverage service not only went fairly smooth, it also went somewhat quick, which is a flight attendant dream. I think I may have sold one alcoholic beverage on the flight. That's it. Not that there's anything was wrong with that - just the opposite actually. But it was strange, very strange, running out of tea bags, not liquor, on a drama free flight.

Or is it strange, considering how weak the dollar is these days, I thought to myself, as I handed an 81 year-old Argentinian woman traveling with a group of eleven a stir stick.

"Okay," said the husband, shoving his cell phone into the back pocket of his blue jeans. People, all of them very fashionably dressed, whizzed by us while we stood on the cobblestone street outside a large glass window displaying freshly baked pizza. We had just exited the train station in Rome and were looking for our hotel, The Gregoriana. "The guy said to walk up the Spanish Steps, turn right, and the hotel is at the end of the block."

"At least we're close," I said, eyeing a slice of pizza. It looked amazing. I couldn't wait to get my hands on one.

Sighing, the husband grabbed his black rolling bag, slung a backpack over his shoulder, and said. "So...any idea how many steps there are?"

"A lot," I said with a laugh. Though I did not know the exact amount of steps (I do now), I had an idea there would be more than we'd like.

We turned a corner, walked a good ten feet, all the while taking in the history and beauty that surrounded us, and five seconds later found ourselves standing at the foot of the steps. "Oh. My. God," said the husband.

"Good thing we packed light," I said, and meant it, because we had, in fact, packed light, very very light for a ten day trip to Italy. And then I laughed, because all I could do was laugh, as I took in ALL THOSE steps, as well as all those people sitting on the steps. There were well over a hundred - People and steps! I'm not sure which frightened me more -the people or the steps!

One thing a flight attendant knows how to do is pack light. We do it every day. My secret to packing light, wearing only black, white, and brown, along with a couple colorful accessories. That way everything goes with everything else, creating several mix and match outfits from just a couple basic pieces. Of course, the other secret is to roll your clothes, not fold.

"Roll them military style," advised Dee, a flight attendant I worked with from Dallas to La Guardia a few months ago after I told her I was going to Italy for ten days and would only be taking along my flight bag. "You can get more in the bag that way."

I'm not sure what she meant by military style, but I figured it had something to do with rolling my clothes tight, really tight, which is exactly what I did, getting way more than I anticipated into my crew bag.

"You are not going to need all that," said the husband, as he watched me on the floor from the bed.

"You don't know that," I said, as I proudly zipped up my bag - one bag. And a tote.