So, we did it: we took our first of many cross-country flights with a very small companion in tow. We spent ten hours on planes, seven nights in hotel/guest rooms, and approximately twenty four hours in cars. The long and the short of it is that traveling with a baby is no joke, but it is totally do-able. Provided you're willing to laugh at critical moments.
The Peril: Airport diaper blowout. I live to tell about it. However, those automatic airport sinks, which dispense water in teaspoonful increments, are not so great for doing emergency wash. So, a onesie bites the dust.
The Perk: Getting to use the wheelchair line to go through security.
The Peril: Removing a sleeping baby from his stroller to carry him through the metal detector and waiting forever while his formula bottles are scanned in a fancy microscope thingy.
The Perk: Pre-boarding. It doesn't matter what cheap-o seat you book, passengers with small children get to board first. Take that, First Class Diamond Traveler Who Paid $200 Extra for Free Drinks!
The Perk: Benevolent smiles from kind strangers. Also, Sam behaves perfectly on the plane. Although he is not amused when I make him try on my hat (see iPhone photos below).
The Peril: Arriving in San Francisco at midnight and realizing that the infant insert of our car seat somehow has been completely ripped off the seat. Luckily, Sam is too big for it anyway, but I stand in the complaint line nonetheless.
The Perk: Convincing Delta to write us a check for $150 to cover the cost of a whole new car seat.
The Peril: Trying to check out at the rental car place and realizing the car reservation is booked in the wrong name. We sit in the parking deck in the dark for 30 minutes while it gets sorted out.
The Peril: Arriving at our hotel at 2 am to find that it looks like a seedy motel. Also, asking for the crib we had reserved and hearing the guy say, "Hm, let me see if I can find it. Do you need it tonight?" Then, he drags a HUGE metal hospital-style crib into our room, teaches himself how to build it, and throws a queen bedsheet into it.
The Perk: Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Also, the Persian restaurant a half mile from our hotel. One word: Falafel. Also, coffee.
The Peril: Monday morning phone call from our real estate agent. She broke her foot and is off the job.
The Perk: We get a new agent, British, fabulous accent, hilarious personality. When we hit traffic or red lights, which she knows Sam does not tolerate, she says things like "fffff....fiddlesticks," "oh poo poo poo," and "oopsie daisies."
The Peril: Two out of three days of house hunting, the new agent forgets all of her papers on her kitchen counter. She lives an hour away. She doesn't have a smartphone. She navigates the Bay area with an atlas. So I help navigate with my iPhone while frantically entertaining Sam with my foot and anything else that could possibly be interesting to a four month old.
The Peril: Our agent rolls through every single stop sign. Finally, on the third day, she gets a ticket. She is mortified. She continues rolling through every single stop sign.
The Perk: Also on the third day, we find our dream house.
The Peril: The dream house is only available for a nine month lease.
The Perk: We find another house. It's beautiful. We take it. (Sneak peek photos coming soon.)
The Peril: Jordan's work computer decides to kick the bucket.
The Peril: Sam really needs a bath. So, we stuff a towel in the hotel sink and plop him in. Works great.
The Perk: Everything we eat is gold. Thank you, California, for having amazing food on every corner. Also, Sam sees the Pacific Ocean. He is not impressed.
The Peril: On the trip home, Sam's formula bottles throw a false positive for dangerous chemicals in the special scanner thingy. Jordan has to get a full-body pat down.
The Peril: Airplane diaper blowout. My worst fear comes to pass, but it isn't as big a deal as I imagined. Another onesie bites the dust. Also, Sam has a random crying fit in the middle of the flight. The emergency supply of earplugs I had packed for my fellow passengers are buried out of reach. (Luckily, he is only inconsolable for a little while, and the noise of the plane is so loud that the crying isn't terribly disruptive.)
The Peril: Airplane diaper blowout. My worst fear comes to pass, but it isn't as big a deal as I imagined. Another onesie bites the dust. Also, Sam has a random crying fit in the middle of the flight. The emergency supply of earplugs I had packed for my fellow passengers are buried out of reach. (Luckily, he is only inconsolable for a little while, and the noise of the plane is so loud that the crying isn't terribly disruptive.)
The Perk: An extraordinarily overpriced airplane margarita. Never in my life have I ordered a drink on an airplane, but this time I feel that I quite deserve it. And it is delicious.
The Peril: Back in Atlanta claiming our baggage, and Sam's car seat base is nowhere to be found. I trudge back to the Delta complaint line. I get my turn to complain, only to be told that "car seat parts are always sent to the oversized baggage claim section." The base is tiny, I tell you. But, sure enough, there it is, hiding pitifully among the golf clubs and mammoth sound systems.
To sum up, what are the lessons I learned about traveling with a small companion? Roll with the punches. Forget about what the people around you think, and just do what needs to be done. Buy yourself a drink. And it really won't be so bad. :)
love it. love your conclusion. SOOOO true :)
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