Traveling w/ a Kiddo

Many parents have asked me how I got my kid to travel on road trips. Truth? Once upon a time, when my son was very young, I had to drive to Portland from Medford (about 300 miles north along Interstate 5). My family lives in Portland, and they couldn't make the drive for financial reasons. So if my son was to know them, we would have to be the ones to visit.

So one night, when the crickets were creaking, and the roads were near empty, I loaded a sleepy baby into the car and drove off into the night. I decided nighttime was my best bet for getting there in one go. I thought the darkness and quiet of the road would keep him asleep.

Boy, was I wrong.



He cried pretty much the whole way. It was disastrous. Every thirty minutes I stopped to check him, change him, nurse him, rock him, play with him, or reassure him. After the first few stops, it became clear he was fussing because he didn't like being in his carseat.

Even with all the preparations of clothing, items, devices, blankets, etc. I brought, he simply hated being back there. Some stretches of freeway there was nothing I could do but soothe him from the driver's seat with my voice because there were no exits and no shoulders to park at.

But there was something I oddly loved about it. Not the crying, of course. But the adventure. I loved having an excuse to not have to come to his aid when I knew there was nothing wrong. For a whole hour, I didn't have him in my arms.

This is where moms, especially, fall victim. They can't handle the sound of their baby crying (understandable by evolutionary standards, not by sanity standards). Admittedly, I couldn't either. That's why I stopped on the gravel edges of exits and at rest areas so often.

Sure he would nap for twenty minutes occasionally, but then he'd wake and be right back to crying. It was dreadful! But what could I do? I had to get to Portland. So eventually I stopped stopping. I talked to him constantly in a conversationally silly tone about whatever, just so he could hear the tone in my voice that was saying "there's no danger; nothing to be upset about; I'm here".

As slow as the trip up was, the trip down was a breeze. He learned that carseat = mom's there but busy. From then on he fussed for less and less time each consecutive trip. The cry it out method never worked for me in the house for bed time, but in the car he became a champ. As soon as I put him in his carseat, he would fall asleep almost instantly.

This became my saving grace during his infancy. Whenever he was particularly fussy at home, I'd get in the car and go somewhere, ANYWHERE, to get him to settle down, because I knew he was carseat trained. That's literally what it's about. There's sleep training, and there's carseat training. At least in a car, there's a clear, reasonable limitation to how quickly you can respond to his tears. Maybe that's the beauty of travel.

Traveling with an infant had its share of challenges:  finding adequate places to change him or discard poopy (disposables for emergencies and travel only) diapers, dealing with cultural differences about nursing in public (each town has its own culture), eating adequately, coordinating a sleep schedule (which I failed at at home anyway), having dependable help (also a challenge at home for some), etc. But it didn't stop me from going out.

I would have cried myself to death without the freedom to change my scenery and explore that my car provided. My kid either came willingly, or forcefully. Everything else I do is for him. This --traveling, camping, exploring-- is for me, and if he ends up getting something out of it as well, bonus.

Six years later, during a week we had done very little outdoor activity, he surprises me by saying "I miss hiking." Dumbfounded, I reply "I thought you only tolerated it because I drag you along." His response: "No! I like going hiking."
Mom: "You do? What about traveling?"
Son: "I like traveling, too."
Mom: "Camping?"
Son: (annoyed) "Yes! You know I like camping. I've said that already."
Mom: "Well, alright. Let's go hiking!"

Being a parent doesn't have to mean surrendering your freedom. There are opportunities for adventure all around you, wherever you live. I will show you how.