Since travel season – both near {we leave tonight to celebrate Pete’s grandma who turns 100. That’s 1-00, yo!} and far {more about that next week} – is upon us, I’ve started having travel-with-kids flashbacks. The kind you need therapy to recover from. The kind that remind me of something I wrote a couple years back –
You see, the more articles I read about how to plan for that “4 hour road trip” or that “3 hour time change” the more I felt the urge to whack myself in the forehead and blurt out, “but, that’s basically the amount of time it takes us just to get to the airport, clear customs and pre-board!”
So, unfortunately, if your travel plans are under 8 hours, we have very little in common. Because on a flight home to South Africa, at the 8 hour mark – if you or your kids have been lucky enough to actually sleep – you wake up and “hey, presto” just another 8 hours to go!
If your travel plans creep up to the 10 hour mark, we have a minuscule amount more in common. But, bear in mind, I have on more than one occasion spent that amount of time in an airport with my main man and my kids before the international flight even began boarding!
Now, if your travel time hits the 12 hour mark we both appreciate the fragile air ballet involved in trying to negotiate children to sleep in cramped quarters. It will have you mastering the art of contortion by the end of the flight. And about this time, when the in-flight entertainment has been used up, the snacks eaten, and the benadryl offered a miracle might occur – one and sometimes even two of your children will – against all odds – fall asleep. And right then, when bliss is within reach, your flight will pitstop. At 2am. On an island in the middle of nowhere. To refuel. And while no one will be allowed to disembark, all overhead lights will be turned on. All bags will be searched. All seat cushions will be pulled up, examined and replaced. All bathrooms will be cleaned. All passengers will be identified. And all sleeping children will wake up.
If your travel time inches up to the 18 hour margin, we begin to have quite a bit in common. Because then you too know what it’s like to fake sleep so that your husband will be forced to change yet another poopy diaper in the confines of the bulkhead toilet, beg the flight attendant for yet more apple juice, or apologize once again to the business traveler in front of you who continues to stare pointed daggers at your toddler who has to have something to bang his head against. I mean, at this point in the flight, who doesn’t?
If your travel time gets close to the 36 hour mark, we may become bosom buddies! Because then you too will know what it’s like to have lost track of terminals, time zones, and your mind. You will know how it feels to have your contact lenses suction-cupped to your eyeballs and how quickly you lose any sense of dignity and are no longer embarrassed by those T-Shirt stains you got during the previous 4 meals eaten on cramped knees between crazed kids. You will understand the sweet torture of being within site of your domestic gate only to get pulled aside for a spot security check, which includes waking the infant finally slumbering on your chest after crossing multiple time zones so that you can both be subjected to a pat down.
And you will know the sweet revenge when said infant pulls a Jack-Jack and screams the frustration you can’t express. And once given the all-clear, you will smile sickly, clutch your babe to your chest, abandon whatever dignity you may have had left, and sprint for the gate because there is no way you are spending another night away from your own bed!
So, it’s hour 36 of our nightmare trip home from South Africa a few years back. It’s 7am New York time; it’s dinner time in South Africa, and we’re still one more flight away from our final destination. Jackson is ravenous. But breakfast fare won’t do. All he wants is “chicken nuggets and chocolate milk.” Ugh. Anyway, believe me, when you are approaching two full days of travel you give your kids whatever it is they want, and you give it STAT!
One order of Mcknuggets and chocolate milk later I am facing the gate agent and requesting our seat assignments. Jackson is perched on the counter top between me and the attendant. When – how does the old rhyme go again – if you see a brown stream, and you know you want to scream: Di-ahrrea, Di-ahrrea!
That brown trickle running down the check-in desk and gaining speed as it poured toward the floor was not the stuff of great seat assignments. It was not the kind of sugar and spice I had envisioned my little one working for the nice check-in lady. It was not the brand of toddler magic I was hoping he would wield. It was the cherry on top of the nightmare trip. And it was gaining momentum!
I raised my eyebrows at my beloved. I smiled. I beckoned him over. And I thrust our child at him with one whispered, desperate phrase, “You will need the wipes!” Then I swept up the rest of the evidence in his once light blue sweater and asked, “could you be sure one of those is an aisle seat?”
She did. It was. We made it. Most of Jackson’s clothes did not.
OK, your turn. I double dog dare you to top that.
{All photos from a trip Pete and I took across Europe before we had kids!
Keleti station in Budapest; Me on the train to Budapest; Ukrainian-Hungarian border}
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I don’t think anyone…ever…could top that….BLECH…you poor girl….
I’ve had my horror stories with kids on domestic flights (only) and I’ve had my horrid sick traveling stories to Thailand and Brazil, but never ever with kids…I don’t have any idea how you do it…I could never, ever, ever, ever….
I do like the humor of acting like you are asleep (I’m often caught acting like I don’t smell a thing!) so hubby changes the diapers :)
Yikes! Ok, so I can’t top that, but I have been wholeheartedly vomited on, repeatedly, in an airport, on a layover, 2 minutes before final boarding for a 6-hour leg of the flight, without a change of clothes or time to buy one, leaving both myself and my son covered in stinky kid puke, when my baby daughter decides to launch her bottle at the wall, cracking the plastic wide open and dumping it all over my pants… so I am now covered in vomit and baby formula (which smells oh-so-wonderful), and traveling alone with a sick child and a now very hungry baby. At least six moms stood around gawking at the scene, and only one shell-shocked business traveler that witnessed the episode stopped to make a run for bathroom paper towels to help me sort of blot up the whole mess. Then, we get on the plane and my bra hook breaks OFF, leaving me with a half-hanging off bra in the whole ordeal. I have never wanted to crawl in a hole and die more than during that ordeal.
Oh girl, I think that tops my story for sure! ai yai yai!
I’m sorry, but I am laughing so hard I am crying. What a horrible mess!
That is some seriously long travel hours! Well, those trips will be memorable that is for sure!
Cannot POSSIBLY top this story (or the one in the comment above). I laughed out loud at multiple places – all the time wincing in shared pain and exhaustion. Oh, ouch.
We broke our trip home after two years living in Zambia 40+ years ago into pieces, but the first and last piece each contained it’s own small drama. Leg one: Lusaka to Nairobi – before leaving Zambia, the plane began to shudder and shake and the very nervous Zambian national flight attendant literally wailed something like, “We’re all going to DIE.” Clearly, that did not happen. But what did happen was a 12 HOUR DELAY AFTER PASSING CUSTOMS. So we were stuck with about 85 surly passengers in a very small space with our 5 month old daughter, who behaved beautifully during this weary leg. Leg two: Nairobi to Zurich – easy peasy – no prob, made me wonder what all the fuss is about when traveling with infants. Ah, but then came leg 3: Copenhagen to LAX. And our beautifully behaved infant daughter (with her woefully inexperienced parents) made sounds like a banshee for the entire 11 hour flight. She had had it with traveling (one week in Kenya, one week in Switzerland/Germany), she had had it with the in-flight bassinet (which they used to provide), her ears were killing her and she let us and the entire 200 passenger flight know about it. There were several poopy diapers in there as well, but none of them managed to land anywhere too public, thank God. You are a very brave soul, Lisa-Jo! May this next one be as smooth and easy as it is possible for it to be. Oy vey.
Um, wow.
Dang. That’s really, really lousy. Okay, and triple points for disgusting, too.
So my first-flight-ever-with-children wasn’t a very long one – probably only 4 hours or so. But it FELT like 40 hours, trust me. I had my 20-month-old son, and my newborn baby girl…and Daddy had kissed us all bye-bye at the gate. I did the whole ‘early-boarding’ thing, having babies & all that (which is so counter-intuitive, is it not???), and so was dutifully strapping in baby-seat, stowing diaper bags, blithely unaware of the volcanic rumblings nearby. Just as the seats around us began to fill up, my little boy turned to me with a grimace, clutched his tummy, and puked all over everything. All. Over. Everything. Himself, his baby sister, his mommy, our bags. Oh, um, and the airplane seat. It was, ahhh…fragrant. So fragrant in fact, that our departure was delayed as the airline staff actually REMOVED the entire seat, and replaced it with a clean one. Just to ensure that the rest of the passengers wouldn’t also puke from the um…odiferousness.
And that, of course, was just the start. He threw up about every 15 minutes the entire flight to Texas. I went into ElastaGirl mode, and kept baby Autumn nursing in one arm, while holding the 25th-or-so barf bag under little Caleb’s chin. And no, the stewardess didn’t even thank me. Go figure.
I think Cara surely wins the ‘Topped Award’ here. I laughed so hard at ‘faking sleep’! I have totally done that!
We did have a dirty diaper leak all over a check-in counter once. I left to change him into the 1-2 outfits I would need for the next 20 hours and managed to forget the wipes and seriously injure my head on the fancy metal changing table at the airport. With a throbbing headache I returned to find our family was not seated together! Ugh.
Then there’s the time all my baby stuff was literally dumped by BA on the tarmac in London, with only a few little socks surviving before the arrival of our second child. Most of the baby items, now smeared with tar and tire marks, were not salvageable.
Or the time my shoes tested positive for nitro., I was called the ‘suspect’, separated from my husband and kept for questioning, afterward being lectured in the evils of walking through fertilized grass the day before flying. Still made my flight though!
My absolute pet peave is booking a lap child seat, security/pre-board/carseats/etc only to find I have to move seats as there is no ‘extra oxygen mask’ for a lap child in this row. The next time I specifically begged the poor phone guy in Dehli somewhere to book me a seat with extra oxygen. Reply? “All the seats have oxygen.” So I begged the check-in folks to verify my seat. They assured me now each row has an extra oxygen mask. Board the plane and find there are other lap children in every row near us! Yes, had to move… again. Ugh!
It still is really amazing to me that we can go through this insane time-warp experience and end up on the other side of the world! No 3-months on a boat. No 2 weeks on a train. Just 36 hours. =)
Oh, Lisa-Jo, there are no words! That is truly heinous. I can’t top it, although we’re expats and have done much international traveling. The worst I’ve had to survive is a drive from London to the south of France with an infant screaming non stop in the car. It’s enough to make you hallucinate. But, no poop. Thankfully, no poop.
Let’s just say … we’d qualify as “bosom buddies.” We are experts on the Hong Kong to Tawain to LA to Dallas to Nashville leg. Yep … 36 hours with layovers. And five kids. Enough said. Great post. Misery loves company!
Oh, Lisa-Jo. I broke out into a sweat reading that re-cap. What a C R A Z Y trip! I have been fortunate not to have traveled with my four young children on a plane, though I did travel without my husband, by plane with just my two boys when one was 2 and the others was 4 months. But you don’t want to hear how uneventful and *easy* that went. ;) I give God full credit for allowing that trip to be so manageable. I was prepared mentally for the worst, and was relieved when the last layover was done and we exited the plane. I will be praying heartily that this trip is MUCH improved from the last and that you all have a fabulous time.
Oh.my.goodness. I had to laugh when I read this. I have my own similar stories but they were such nightmares I have buried the details in the dark, deep, hidden recesses of my mind. There is a faint memory of a most unpleasant trip from Chicago to Singapore on my own with a 10 month old and enough luggage for a month of travel in 2 very different climates. Where was the elephant to help me carry our stuff? Years later we had 2 more kids and took a family trip from Austin, Tx to Philadelphia with the youngest in diapers. Well, he SHOULD have been in diapers. Again, memories locked up – never to come out again! ;)
All I can say is Bless you heart. THANK YOU for reminding me
A. That having one child only isn’t SO bad
B. Why I don’t fly at ALL anymore, let alone with children and
C. That I am perfectly content to stay within the confines of wherever my on-the-road vehicle will take me. As tantalizing as far off places sound, after an experience like yours, I would be in the nut house!!
Great post!
Yikes! We fly back and forth from Asia every year which is about a 24-30 hour flight. We have had some crazy awful moments with our kids, but I think you beat us! 36 hours would make me go from insane to completely out of my mind. I would probably hurt someone :-) Traveling with small children is a bit of a suicide mission!
Bosom Buddies it is, then! :)
I have stood in that little plane water closet trying desperately to use airline soap and paper towels to wash the diarrhea from mine and my sons clothes – with no alternative to change into. And being forced to smell like the aforementioned # for the remainder of the entire trip.
And you would think that after that experience, I would be inspired to be more prepared for the next trip, and make sure we both had an extra pair of clothes in our carry on, right? Wrong. Sigh.
Fact: babies will get diarrhea the moment you step onto a moving vehicle. And they will get it on you. Trains included.
Why in the world did you ever stop dosing them with Benedryl? Actually, maybe YOU should have taken the Benedryl….
I say UGH. And your family should move closer to you! :) You should be exempt from all travel exceeding 6 hours. After all, you have small children now. That was my story!
Ann Judson has you topped.
She married Adoniram and immediately parted from her family and friends in Haverhill, MA. She would never see them again.
They stepped on a slow boat to Myanmar, upon which she never felt well a single day and lost her first baby.
They arrived after over six months of grueling travel to a brutally hot jungle, where they were utterly unfamiliar with the culture and language and both immediately became gravely ill.
Not to say that it must not have been a brutal 40 hours. I am sure Lisa-Jo that you handled that better than anyone else I “know” (even cyber-know, :) ) would have!!
I don’t envy you. The last time we flew I ended up quite flustered with a screaming baby in the middle seat and ‘eye daggers’ from passengers. The gentleman in front of me turned around so much to stare I wanted so badly to tell him ‘I can stare too!’. Thankfully refrained from that fifth grade response, but I wish folks on planes gave a little grace. This trip we’re driving with the 7 month old and the dogs and I’m dreading it already but at least the only other passenger is my husband!
You win. But here is mine:
Traveling back home alone with 3 children under 7. We were landing. I could have tossed a sippy cup at the road to take me home, we were denied landing do to wind. The pilot circled, then we hit bad weather. At which point the pilot felt the need to confess the loss of two key instruments. Did I mention the bad weather?
We were sent to another airport to try to land. Meanwhile, child behind me (not my own) starts to lose it. Naturally, with only 3 of my own to manage, I felt the maternal urge to parent her as well.
At this point, weather and the 6 packs of fruit snacks made my 4 year old, well you know. I buzzed for the stewardess who promptly told me she was supposed to use the bag. Right. Thanks.
Finally, we landed. 3 hours from home. Longer than my original flight. I opted not to take the “complimentary” bus ride home. My dear husband rented me a car, and the amazing rental agent upgraded me to an SUV.
I drove us all home and after getting the girls to bed collapsed in a pile of tears.
Wow, those are some long trips for sure!!!! My international travel felt long, but nothing like that! It makes me feel like I should definitely be grateful if I do anymore before having children:). But, then, where’s the good story??
I’m afraid I’m laughing at your expense, hard! I have had very few experiences like that, okay none. But I do hate flying and have had a couple of near death moments that have endowed me with permanent white knuckles. I dropped my husband off at the airport recently and found myself dizzy, short of breath, with a racing heart. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, then I realized I was actually experiencing a mild panic attack brought on by the sight of the airport, and I wasn’t even flying! You have my respect!
That is hysterical! You win. Hands down! What do you win? Hopefully a few free therapy sessions. A friend of mine sent me a link to your blog after she read what I wrote yesterday on the same topic of superfluous int’l travel with kids: http://lifeinarabia.org/2011/06/ready-for-take-off/
We could be sisters! Or at least we could share a counselor. :)
My, oh! My! This had me in stitches. You win, although I did fly home from Germany on a C-5 with a toddler. We waited in the terminal for 2 days to catch the flight. We flew {backwards…the seats were facing the rear of the plane} with no in-flight entertainment, a box lunch, and it was bumpy all.the.way. What is an 8 hour flight on a commercial airline took over 10 in this bad boy. More than once, the air quit working so it was hot, stuffy and people were throwing up all around me, and I’m afraid I’m a sympathy yakker. While I didn’t actually throw up, I was queasy. My husband (now ex-husband) slept from the moment the started the engines until we began our descent. While my son was very good…VERY easily entertained and pretty excited to be going on the airplane, it was exhausting. We didn’t have time to notify our stateside families that we had actually been given boaring passes, so we called them from the airport, took a ‘limo’ into New York City, rushed from Penn Central to Grand Central (or vice-versa) with the boy in a backpack, toting luggage (before the era of rolling luggage) at about 10:00 p.m. We bought our tickets for some train station in Massachusetts and actually hopped on the train as it was pulling out. Then we realzed that nobody knew when we were arriving. So when we arrived at or destination in the middle of the night, we had to call for someone to come get us, and they were an hour and a half away. 3 hours later we were home. Everyone ooohed and ahhhhed over the boy, whom they had never seen. Then they ALL went to bed. Leaving me without sleep and up with a little boy who thought it was mid morning. And who had diahrrea! What a Merry Christmas that was! Although, I must confess…32 years later, thinking of that makes me giggle. It took awhile, but I got there. I’ll be holding you in my prayers as you travel with your gang!
No one could top that story, Lisa Jo. It makes me realize that my 30 hour trip to Poland by myself is NOTHING. Even the 9 hour wait alone in London (although trying to stay awake by myself was difficult) will never match what you went through. This year I go again mostly on my own on the same mission trip – same number of hours. I will remember your tale and be thankful for peace.
Blessings,
Jan
Wow. wow. I can’t believe how brave you are. The worst I remember dealing with was travelling with my older brother, a 20 something hour trip, and he was sick (like throwing up) all during the trip. I’m now surprised at my teenage self, and how patient and caring I was with him :)
There is no way anyone can beat that story. I’ve been on the other end (with no children that I’m raising) of an international flight with a screaming baby the whole way. I fought with myself and tried to be sympathetic, but found myself getting irritated despite trying to put myself in the poor parents’ shoes. Thank you, Lisa-Jo, for such a graphic story of how bad it can actually be! I will be praying that your upcoming long travels go well and without nearly so many “bumps” along the way! :-)
Oh, I’ve been there – sort of. For us, it was just twice – flying from northern British Columbia to Papua New Guinea, and back again three months later, with a nearly-three-year-old and a 15 month old, husband who had never flown before, and myself 2 months pregnant. That 13 hours between Vancouver and Hong Kong is LONG, and then the 2 year old started throwing up as we landed in Australia. We learned to avoid airplane meat after that. I can only imagine the dread of having to do it on a more regular-part-of-life basis.
i.have.nothing. i might have nightmares after reading your post, though!
Definitely cannot top those stories, but have had some crazy ones ourselves. Although we’ve never gone out of country with little ones, we do cross the U.S., and have had lots of run-ins with barf, diarrhea, hours and hours of delays, and traffic jams. One terrible experience my husband and I STILL cannot talk about because we ended up so mad at each other (for the record, all of the previous run-ins were involved). People say we will laugh about it, but not that one, yet.
Kudos to you for having the courage to take your children along for these rides!
Boy, am I thankful I can’t top those stories…but with grandparents in SA and the USA I can empathise with you on the travel times. Last time around worked the flight plans to give us a long layover in London and we booked a room in the Yotel at Heathrow — have you tried that before? The rooms are about as big as a walk-in closet full of Heineken, but there is a double bed and a bathroom and everybody can get some sleep. Although your crew might need two rooms…it could help! It’s at the airport, so that helps! :)
We’ve been fortunate enough to have flight crew treat us nicely…but the little ones are still small enough to coo and gurgle and win us points when we’re an hour late for check-in!
Ok, yes, I have traveled 30+hours on an international flight, but I have NEVER had to do it with children. It’s amazing that I can keep track of myself. I shudder to think of going on a 2 hour plane ride with my baby at the moment. You are one brave mama!
Godspeed. We were debating taking the kids on a mere 8 hour flight that would involve a 6 hour time change for a week, and I chickened out. Traveling with little kids is not for amateurs!
bwaaahah!
Ok, so no kid stories, but I do have a “what happens when South African Airlines decides to go on strike the day that you are trying to fly back to the states after a mission trip and you are stuck all alone in the Jo-berg aiport” – it was a “ten pages and counting story of a journey I never want to take again but that was more of a defining moment in my life than anything else”
But I’ll have to email it to you :)
It would be a complete waste of time to try to top that… and thankfully I can’t. Here’s praying for an easier trip next time around!!!
I have never traveled with my kids. And now… I dont plan to. :D Blessings to you during your season of travel.
I came late to the show, but I think I hit “bosom buddy” status! 3 year old and 18 month old boys and several trips from California to Bali. Upwards of 36 hours. While I can’t top the diarrhea on the desk story, I can bring in another whole element.
Picture this:
husband has to get some work done on layover in Taiwan, entertaining two children by myself at the gate, three-year-old goes missing, totally gone, can’t find him anywhere, turns out he GOT ON AN ELEVATOR BY HIMSELF IN AN AIRPORT IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY!!!!! Yes, we found him. No, I never told my mother.
Yeah, I don’t understand people who complain about how to keep the kids entertained for a 3 hour drive. I don’t consider entertainment in the car necessary unless we’re driving all day. And even then, I don’t pull out any entertainment until half way through the day.
Our international travel is to South America (Colombia). 5-6 hours on the plane. Not bad at all. People think I’m crazy when I’m not worried about how the kids will handle it. It’s *only* 5 hours. It’s not that much longer than the drive time we have for weekend trips!
And no, I don’t have any horror stories. (And I’m glad!!!) Even when my guys were babies, they traveled well. A few tears, but only when they needed something. Which would have happened no matter where we were. I’m lucky, I know. =)
not only can i not top that… i am sitting here slack jawed with my eyes bugging out of my head. YOU ARE MY HERO.
WOW! I just had to read this post when I came across it because it sounds exactly like so many of my experiences since we live overseas. I can totally relate to you and think that maybe we just might qualify as bosom buddies in this sense. =)
The first comparable story included 2 days of travel, our airline promising me (then 32 weeks pregnant) a seat for my toddler, only to find out at the gate that there was no seat for her. Then there was the flight attendant on a power trip that would not allow me to stand in the back of the plane even for a 2 minute breather with my 18 month old daughter who was desperate for a change of scenery. Then after the long-haul, we were delayed in New York. Finally as we board the transport vehicle to the plane, my daughter starts throwing up. Then we were grounded for 2 hours due to bad weather while my daughter continued to puke all over herself, her spare clothes, my husband, and his spare shirt, and the airplane seat. We finally made it home with a little girl who had puked 16 times on the flight, who was lethargic, naked, and green, wrapped only in a diaper and an airplane blanket. It was a great way to greet the grandparents who hadn’t seen her in a year.
Then there was the time that one flight got delayed so we wouldn’t make our connection (since of course they made us collect and re-check our baggage… that’s just Russia). My husband sent me and my daughter (both sick with a sinus infections and me recovering from having food poisoning the night before… great for flying) ahead to hopefully get home and get some sleep while he got our bags and waited for the next flight. I lost my cell phone at security and then once on the airplane realized that I didn’t have keys to our flat (nor did I have a cell phone to call a friend to come and pick us up). We got on the cramped Russian plane and my daughter starts wailing. A nice flight attendant offers us a seat in business class, which I gladly and gratefully accept. My daughter continues to cry and then has a massive blow-out mid-flight. I go to the bathroom to change her…. but there is not changing station. I am forced to change the stinky, messy blow-out right there in business class. I apologize and receive much grace, but all the same, it is mortifying. Also, this was already my daughter’s spare set of clothes, so there is not much to do. She has to wear the dirty, stinky onesie and some other slightly less soiled pants from earlier (it’s winter, so naked is not an option). We arrive and thankfully my husband had realized my predicament about not having keys and had called a friend with a spare to pick me up. All ended well, but let’s just say that it was quite dramatic.
In hindsight these stories crack me up. I am so grateful that God blesses us to see the humor of it all after the trauma has passed. It is great to relate to you on this! International travel with kids is just brutal!!!
Hi Lisa-Jo,
I know this is an old post, but I’ve been having so much fun reading your posts and at the same time being greatly encouraged! I’m a mother of 2 young children. In November of last year I decided to travel home to the States from Australia with my two children (aged 3 and 16 months at the time!)…not only that, but did it ALONE! The flight from Sydney to La is a straight 14 hours. Guess how much time my children slept? (and yes, I gave them Benadryl) A whopping total of 1 hour each…at different times!!!!! So, I got no sleep…and I couldn’t really eat the meals because my boy was on my lap the whole time…the meal I did try to eat he tipped the tray( of peas and potatoes) all over my clothes! Once I got to LA I was desperate to get my little boy out of the stroller and let him run free for a little bit…not to be as I had to run(and I mean RUN!) to the next flight which was about 4 hours straight. We got to Chicago and yet still had one more flight to get on. Praise the Lord my 3 year old was a champion flyer and traveler, but let me just tell you I was dreading the flight home to Sydney when the time came. I can laugh at it now, but I definitely won’t fly solo again for a long, long time!