This weekend we were in the Big Apple (well, Long Island) for my sister’s wedding. It was Anya’s first flight, and she hardly even fussed. Everything went well, although I feel Catholic wedding ceremonies leave a lot to be desired (at least the three I’ve been to have all confirmed that belief), and the reception had more food and drinks than any human could possibly consume. Little Anya got passed around to various friends and family and everyone oohed and aahed, because they’ve never seen a baby before. I think she spent more time in my sister’s arms than ours. At least until she would cry. 
Here is a picture of me getting dressed up for my new gig in AC/DC, and our little muscle baby:
My experience on airplanes has been that little infants are fine…the younger the better (one newborn slept the entire flight across the Pacific ocean, thank god!). But it’s the toddlers that are a complete nightmare. They squirm, they yell, they throw food, and they kick your chair. Give me infants over a toddler any day!
On the flight home we were in the back of the plane with some toddlers (is it coincidence they stuck us all together?), and would definitely agree that they were much louder. Especially after sitting on the ground for an hour before we could take off!