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A different kind of family travel

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The Three Musketeers.

The Three Musketeers.

Family travel comes in many shapes and sizes. Most of the time in Villanoville, the equation is the same: Me + Powerwoman + L + R. This past weekend, however, the formula took on a new look—my kids were hanging out with their Momma at home, and I was traveling with *my* parents (who are known in these parts as Grammy C and Grampy V).

We were in San Diego for a wedding. We had separate rooms (thank goodness), but it was the first time JUST the three of us (I’m an only child) have traveled together as a family since I was in high school.

Which means it was quite a hoot.

Exhibit A: I arrived at our hotel for the weekend, the Sheraton San Diego Hotel & Marina, to find my parents drinking beer by a fire pit—something they NEVER did when we vacationed together during our younger days. (Later, my dad also ordered beer at the hotel bar. Who has he become?)

Exhibit B: My mother, who from time to time still harbors a Long Island accent, wore a knitted sweater thing over her shoulders to keep her warm. She called it a SH-AWWWWWWWWWL. And every time I heard her say the word I laughed.

Exhibit C: The three of us vowed to meet in the lobby so we all could drive to the rehearsal dinner together, but my father was 30 minutes late. When I asked my mother what he was doing upstairs, she said he ran up to get something just before I had arrived. She noted the errand should have taken no more than five minutes. It took WAY longer than that.

Exhibit D: After the aforementioned rehearsal dinner, the three of us hit the game room. The two of them stood there and watched me gun for the record at the lone Pop-A-Shot game (I came within 20 points). Then Dad took a turn. (He was less efficient. Think Herb Williams, circa 1994 New York Knicks.)

Those were just the highlights from the first day. The rest of the weekend was filled with foibles over umbrellas in the rain, botched directions despite the help of a GPS, deep conversations about child-rearing, and discussions about life after Social Security. Throw in a hearty dose of nagging from Mom and a bunch of incessant whistling from my Dad (trust me; that shit is PIERCING), and it was just like old times.

In my teens, this degree of intensity drove me nuts and soured me on the mere mention of going away with the two of them later in life. Now that later has arrived, however, now that I’m a grown-up myself, I was able to laugh off the more stressful parts of the family dynamic when I had to and appreciate it at all other times.

In other words, I had a blast.

So often we new-ish parents think family travel must be confined to the people in our immediate families. This weekend with Mom and Dad reminded me that they’re my family, too. Traveling with them was just as fulfilling as traveling with my wife and girls, only in entirely different ways. I’m not sure I could do it again for a few months, but I’m certainly more willing to consider it than ever before.

To what extent do you vacation with your extended family, and where do you go?

Travel adventure as a state of mind

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R, beachcombing.

R, beachcombing.

Our family is always seeking new adventures. Near, far—we don’t care where we travel, we simply make habit out of striving for something out of the ordinary.

Nevertheless, we have developed some travel favorites over the years. We love vacationing in Hawaii, largely because nobody wears clothes. We love public transportation, because the girls always can find something at which to marvel. We love shopping at farmers’ markets, because the produce is so fresh.

We also love spending days at the beach—not so much because we like to surf or swim (both girls actually are afraid of the ocean), but because we LOVE to go beachcombing. We don’t have preferences about what we hunt—beach glass, sea shells, pretty rocks, and more. If we’re on the beach with a mission to find cool stuff, we’re a happy crew.

With this in mind, we usually try to incorporate a beach visit into each and every one of our coastal vacations.

And when we’re not traveling, we try to drive the 45 minutes from our house to the coast once a month.

I went earlier today with R. Our mission: To find beach glass for L (who is an avid collector). She has an extensive collection of green glass, but lacks diversity in her stash. Specifically, she asked us to look for glass that was red or blue.

The fact that we achieved our mission was irrelevant; R and I just loved the challenge. At one point, she was so enthralled with our search that she jumped up and down screaming, “BEACH GLASS!”

What’s more, this was the first visit on which my little girl worked up the courage to brave the loud and scary crashing surf and walk up and down the beach to hunt (previously she would just pick a spot to sit and only investigate the sand in her immediate vicinity).

Wherever and whenever we have them, our family beachcombing experiences are proof that you don’t have to travel very far outside your geographic area or comfort zone to take a meaningful journey together.

My advice? Find something you and your family enjoy together and seek it out wherever you are. This enables you to have life-changing experiences at any place and any time, to turn the sense of travel adventure into a state of mind. It also means you’re never too far from a great day out and about. Or new items for your beach collection.

What sorts of family travel adventures do you like best?

Free park time for fourth graders, families

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Little R, enjoying some park time of her own.

Little R, enjoying some park time of her own.

The National Park Service today unveiled a new program through which fourth graders and their families can get one full year of free admission to U.S. National Parks, federal lands, and federal waters.

The program, (appropriately) titled the Every Kid in a Park initiative, aims to provide an opportunity for each and every fourth-grade student across the country to experience their public lands and waters in person throughout the 2015-2016 school year.

That means the program starts in August and September, depending on where your kids go to school.

According to literature, the initiative was conceptualized by President Obama himself as a call to action to get all children to visit and enjoy America’s unparalleled outdoors. Today, more than 80 percent of American families live in urban areas, and many lack easy access to safe outdoor spaces.  At the same time, kids are spending more time than ever in front of screens instead of outside.  A 2010 Kaiser Family Foundation study found that young people now devote an average of more than seven hours a day to electronic media use, or about 53 hours a week—more than a full time job.

The new program also is part of a larger effort launched earlier this year. This effort—Open OutDoors for Kids—aims to expand nature programs for all children, especially kids who grow up in the inner city and may not otherwise have an opportunity to experience nature on their own.

(Through this latter program, you can donate money to help directly; every $10 helps one child.)

Personally, I cannot say enough good things about these programs. I support them wholeheartedly, even though my kids won’t even qualify for the free passes for another four years (L is in kindergarten now). For those families with children who *are* 9 or 10, these initiatives are HUGE. They help families save money. They increase accessibility. And they’re just darn cool.

The National Park Service turns 100 years old in 2016, making next year the perfect time to cash in on those free passes and take a family trip to a park. I strongly recommend starting planning now. I know we will. Maybe we’ll even see you on the trails.

Which National Park have you always wanted to visit and why?

No toys? So what!

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When life gives you leaves and sticks, make fairy houses.

When life gives you leaves and sticks, make fairy houses.

One of my favorite things to do when traveling with the girls is put them in a situation that forces them to be creative—then sit back and see how they roll.

Sometimes they’re too tired to play along and they whine for crayons and paper (or, more commonly, pens and pages from my reporter’s notebook pads). Other times, however, they’re totally into it, scouring the area for twigs and rocks and any other “treasures” they can use to entertain themselves (and, of course, us).

During a recent weekend excursion to the Big City, I needed the kids to kill about 20 minutes in a park while I interviewed a source on the phone. I set them up in a (safe and) particularly vibrant corner. Five minutes later, L had found enough grasses and leaves to fashion a fairy house.

On another trip, a few weeks back, R was disappointed that I didn’t have any sidewalk chalk (because, you know, I don’t travel with that), so she improvised with a Starbucks stir stick and some water.

The best part: She called it “painting.”

These moments, these examples of my girls using nothing but their imaginations, are wonderful reminders that less can be more—especially when we travel. Sure, it’s always nice to have traditional entertainment methods on hand for our kids when we’re away from home. But it’s even nicer to have kids who reliably can create their own entertainment, no matter what.

How do you cultivate this proclivity? Necessity, I suppose. The first time L and R used their imaginations on the road, they had no choice, as Powerwoman and I had left traditional “toys” at home.

Since then, our other secret has been practice—we make sure the kids entertain themselves at least one afternoon on every trip. The more they engage in creative play, the easier it becomes, for everyone involved. Don’t take my word for it, though; try it yourself.

What sorts of creative play do your children like when you travel?

Don’t let the anti-vaxers win

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Fear of contracting measles could have stopped this trip.

Fear of contracting measles could have stopped this trip.

I try as much as possible to stay away from politics here on this blog—those sorts of discussions are insidious, incendiary, and, most of the time, just plain irritating.

That said, it’s hard to ignore the recent hullabaloo over the resurgence of the measles virus, the role the anti-vaccination crowd has played in this resurgence, and the degree to which traveling with young children could put your family at risk of becoming one of the statistics.

I’m not going to rehash all the facts; for a solid rundown of how this mess got started, you can click here. I’m also not going to argue the science—if literally tens of thousands of doctors (and children’s book author, Roald Dahl) say vaccines are good, I don’t really understand how anyone could disagree. Still, because some parents believe vaccines are bad, the vulnerability they’re perpetuating in their kids essentially puts the rest of us with young kids (especially those who are too young to be fully vaccinated) in the line of fire to contract some pretty major health problems.

In recent days I’ve read a number of articles (such as this one) quoting parents who have canceled trips to Disneyland and other family trips out of fear of their kids contracting the disease.

Every time I read one of these stories, I want to scream: WUSSIES!

Don’t get me wrong; the threat of illness is real. And for families with babies who are too young to receive the measles vaccination, the decision of whether to go or not is, as the CDC tells us, serious business. But for those of us with kids over the age of 2 (or 4 or 6, depending on which researchers you choose to believe) to let this threat—or just about any other threat, IMHO—stop us from living our lives, THAT is the real tragedy of all.

So much of family travel is about setting examples for our kids. Do you want them to mimic your tendencies to live in fear?

The reality is that we all take significant risks the moment we leave the house every morning. You could be in a fatal car crash. My kids could be abducted. I could have a heart attack. Heck, in today’s day and age, any one of us could be the victim of terrorism or just a really violent temper-tantrum by a madman.

Whether you like it or not, anti-vaxers are among us, which means all of us are at risk of coming into contact with the measles virus at pretty much any time. Traveling may heighten this risk a little, but the risk is there nevertheless. In other words, scary shit is everywhere. So why stop traveling?

There are a lot of things in this life that can put us in danger of illness and eventually death. Travel, on the other hand, enriches us, nurtures our souls, teaches us about the world around us, and helps us strengthen a foundation of understanding in ourselves and our kids. Travel heightens the living parts of each of us. It’s the absolute last thing we should relinquish.

And so, I beg you: If you’ve got plans to travel and one of your kids hasn’t been vaccinated for measles, don’t freak. Instead, get the kid a vaccine, get some face masks. Get some gloves. And be diligent about keeping your child’s hands out of his or her mouth and face.

If you don’t have plans to travel and are shying away from doing so because of this issue, get over yourself and get out there. The world won’t wait for anti-vaxers. And it certainly won’t wait for you.

Standing up for family travelers

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The smoking gun.

The smoking gun.

We family travelers have to stick together. That’s why I get outraged when haters lambaste us for bringing kids on planes. It’s why I wig out when people (usually people without kids) try to convince me that my children won’t remember anything about the trips we take until they’re at least 5.

It’s also why I support other family travel writers when they speak out against some of the idiocy others throw at globetrotting families around the world.

Naturally, then, I was happy to rally behind this recent blog post from writer, Zach Everson.

In the post, Everson (whom I’ve never met IRL) calls out #CarryOnShame, a hate-filled campaign about which I’ve ranted previously. In a nutshell, at least on paper, this hashtag was devised by a well-known newspaper editor as a way to shame airlines for not enforcing their own policies regarding carry-on luggage. The reality: Most of the shamers actually end up shaming other travelers.

To prove this ignominy, Everson essentially punked Spud Hilton, the man behind this shameful exercise in bad behavior.

A little while back, Everson Instagrammed a picture of a purported violator and tagged it with Hilton’s hashtag of hate. Earlier this month, Hilton included the photo with a clickbaiting roundup on the San Francisco Chronicle’s travel blog, adding some directed mockery of his own.

That mockery, of course, represented a smoking gun in Everson’s case against #CarryonShame. Among other things, Hilton poked fun of a “woman” who actually was Everson (a male human), and condescendingly snarked about a) the number of bags Everson was holding and b) a Hello Kitty design on one of the pieces.

Everson used these missteps to make two incredibly valid points concerning carry-on items and family travelers: 1) For us family travelers, it is common to have one parent bear the brunt of luggage-lugging, and 2) When we families purchase seats for each kid, we are entitled to bring along one carry-on and one personal item PER TRAVELER, just like everyone else on the plane.

(Also incredibly helpful was Everson’s link to a Consumer Reports piece about carry-on restrictions, and how some airlines exempt kid-related items such as medical equipment, diaper bags, and food.)

I won’t summarize the entirety of Everson’s piece here; I encourage you to click through and read it for yourself. Bottom line: It was brilliant. It railed on behalf of all family travelers. And it proved the hypocrisy, stupidity, and venom of this ill-conceived effort to make others look dumb.

I encourage you to fight this mean-spirited #CarryonShame campaign, and see shaming in general for the passive-aggressive hatemongering it is. I also encourage you to take positive and constructive action when you see carry-on violators. Quietly ask gate agents to enforce airline policies. Write letters to airlines about specific violations you’ve witnessed. This is the way to respect others and engineer change. Anything else is just trolling for attention.

Recalibrating expectations about family travel moments

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R and L and a rare 'moment' during our trip to the Anderson Valley.

R and L and a rare ‘moment’ in the Anderson Valley.

I’m writing this post at 35,000 feet above the California desert, en route back to San Francisco after a (busy and) epic weekend in Las Vegas with one of my closest pals.

I was there to report a story about a trail system on the outskirts of the Vegas Valley. The objective: To hike as many of the trails as I could in one weekend. Because hiking is more fun with friends, and because my friend and I live in different cities, I asked him to join me. We had a blast.

Over the course of our 36 hours together, my buddy and I did what 30-something guys do. We talked about sports. We talked about women. We talked about work. We laughed. We listened to music. And we hiked. A lot. (In case you’re wondering, we didn’t gamble together, largely because he doesn’t gamble. I did all of my gambling after he went to bed.)

In short, the trip was full of what I like to call Bromance Moments—those moments during which I felt lucky to have such a good friend, and even luckier to get to spend some downtime with him.

Because we had no other demands on our attention, some of these “moments” lasted for hours.

The whole experience got me thinking about the nature of these moments, and the extent to which Powerwoman and I experience similar moments with the girls when we travel as a family.

My conclusion: Yes, the moments exist. But they’re different. And, in our case, MUCH more short-lived.

I like to call these family travel moments Walley World Moments. The moniker is a blatant reference to the theme park in National Lampoon’s Vacation—the place where Clark Griswold and family spend the entire movie trying to visit. When the family finally gets there, after a litany of ridiculous experiences, there is this sense of true appreciation, that they’re all happy to be there together. The rest of we families experience that, too.

With young kids, however, Walley World Moments are short and sweet, the ultimate quickies. Whenever we do something as a unit, Powerwoman and I stop to recognize how lucky we are to do it together, then one of the girls becomes impatient or trips her sister or nags for a snack or whines about being tired and the family travel magic disappears.

I’m not complaining about my girls being girls (they are 5 and 3, respectively). I’m just stating a fact: It’s hard to hold on to moments of wonder when little ones can’t hold on to anything for more than a few seconds at a time.

This reality has forced us to reconsider how we look at family travel moments overall.

Instead of looking for days or half-days or hours during which we feel lucky to have such wonderful kids and be able to travel with them, we seek mere minutes—ephemeral epiphanies of appreciation.

We’re not lowering our expectations here, people. We’re just abbreviating them—in response to the current attention spans of our little ones. Over time, as the girls evolve into young women, I suspect my wife and I will expand our expectations accordingly. By the time they’re teenagers, perhaps we even will look forward to Walley World Moments that last long enough to thoroughly enjoy.

Until then, of course, we’ll take whatever moments we can get, whenever we can get them, and we’ll savor every second.

What sort of memorable moments do you expect when you travel with your kids?

Weighing in on the #UnitedWithIvy case

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The Kirschenbaums (pic from GMA)

The Kirschenbaums (pic from GMA)

By now you’ve probably heard about the brouhaha last week over the Kirschenbaum family’s ill-fated family trip on a United Airlines flight from Costa Rica to New Jersey.

The family’s mother, Elit Kirschenbaum, went off on United after a flight attendant refused to let her hold her disabled 3-year-old daughter on her lap during take-off. Turns out the daughter, Ivy, has one of the worst forms of cerebral palsy—a kind that prevents the child from sitting up by herself. Momma Bear tried to turn the incident into some sort of discrimination case, and went to Facebook, Twitter and morning TV shows with a smear campaign.

The only problem: Momma was in the wrong.

As Hallie Levine pointed out in a recent post for Yahoo! Travel, FAA regulations require all children over the age of two to be able to sit in their own seats for take-off and landing. The Kirschenbaums actually HAD a seat on the plane for little Ivy. If she wasn’t able to sit in it on her own, the family simply should have brought along an FAA-approved car seat (which is what most airlines and the FAA recommend).

Look, there are plenty of other issues in this episode (for a relatively unbiased account of the facts, read this). Like why Elit Kirschenbaum and her husband had two tickets in first class and four tickets for their kids back in economy (and, um, who the heck was gonna sit with the kids in steerage). And why the airline allowed the parents to argue with flight attendants for a full hour before resolving the situation (the argument and subsequent delay forced many of the other passengers on board to miss their connections).

One even could assail the flight attendant herself for perhaps coming on too strong. Of course it also is understandable to ask why the family didn’t seek some sort of compromise before raising the stink—some reports I’ve read indicated they could have brought a wheelchair for the child, and that the airline would have been required to accommodate it because the flight had more than 60 seats.

(Ultimately, the pilot had Ivy lie belted across her father’s lap for the duration of the flight.)

Still, the fact remains: The Kirschenbaums should have been traveling with an FAA-approved seat, and the fact that they were not lies squarely WITH THEM.

It’s easy in situations like this one for families to cry foul, blame the airline, and demand sympathy. Heck, I’m usually the first guy to stand up and support the family traveler—especially when that traveler has the added challenge of traveling with a special needs child. But airline industry rules exist for a reason, and if some of us have to follow them, all of us should. The Kirschenbaum case reminds all of us that just because we’re traveling with children doesn’t mean we’re always right. Remember that the next time you fly with kids. I know I will.

To what extent do you think Elit Kirschenbaum was in the right?

When family vacation rentals get weird

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Yours truly, with bear and panties and cat mug.

Yours truly, with bear and panties and elf and cat mug.

For years, I’ve been an outspoken advocate of vacation rentals for family travel. When you work with a reputable (and hands-on) agency and you get a good place, there’s nothing better. But when you work with a hands-off agency or you book directly with an owner and you get an iffy place, the experience can color your entire vacation. And not in the best of ways.

We have been reminded of this truism this week during our time in Lake Tahoe. While here, we have rented a house (with another family) through Airbnb. And while we had a fabulous time overall, the house was…well…in a word…ODD.

Examples of the weirdness:

  • When we arrived, we found a pair of purple satin women’s underwear just sitting in the washing machine.
  • There were clumps of dog hair on two of the three beds (this one might have been our fault; even though neither vacationing family owns a dog, we opted for a pet-friendly house because we thought it’d be better for the kids).
  • The refrigerator was FULL of food, and the note on the counter made clear that we were not allowed to use any of it except condiments. (The freezer also was full; some of the items there included frozen bananas—with the peels—and frozen cold cuts.)
  • In looking for television remotes, we found a kleptomaniac’s stash of fancy salt-and-pepper shakers and a file folder with the owner’s birth certificate and Social Security card. (Honestly, it’s a good thing we are not hackers or identity thieves.)
  • The owner had a fascination with bears; there were three life-sized stuffed bears on the main floor, and more than 60 bear images throughout the house.

I chronicled some of the most eccentric details on my Instagram account over the course of our trip. To check them out, click here.

Again, to be clear, I don’t blame Airbnb for the shortcomings of the place we got. That said, considering the success Powerwoman and I have had with vendors such as Rural Retreats and One Fine Stay—brands that keep much tighter control over quality—I think we’ll pay more for a hands-on agency next time around.

What have your experiences been? When you opt for vacation rentals, where do you book and why?

The wonder of family travel in winter

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Sleds and snow-brick makers.

Sleds and snow-brick makers.

The four of us are gearing up for a post-Christmas vacation (with dear friends) in Lake Tahoe, which means Powerwoman and I have been prepping the girls for snow (and enduring all of the concomitant Elsa references) and stocking up on cold-weather supplies.

It also means L and R have learned a whole lot about winter travel in a relatively short period of time.

My favorite of the lessons came earlier this week during a family excursion to the local Target. After the groceries, after the Xmas lights, we made our way over to the sporting goods section, where I proceeded to pick up two snow-brick molds (IMHO a critical tool for snowy winters) and two saucer-shaped sleds.

“What’s that giant Frisbee, Dad?” asked the Big Girl.

“This?” I responded, pointing to the pink saucer. “This is a sled, honey.”

“What’s a sled, Daddy?” chimed R.

It was at that moment that I realized: Our girls have visited five countries and lived in London and hung out in Hawaii six times, but THEY NEVER HAVE PLAYED IN SNOW.

On one hand, this is inexcusable—we pride ourselves on taking them everywhere, it’s hard to believe they’ve never played in snow. (For the record, they did *see* snow last fall, in the Lake District of England.) On the other hand, the reality is perfectly understandable; we live in a place where temperatures rarely drop below freezing, and most of the places we visit are warm.

Either way, all of this means the girls are going to be STOKED when we get up there and they get up close and personal with fresh powder.

We’ve been to Tahoe as a family before, but only in the spring and summer.  For me, what’s going to make this trip so fun is that the winter wonderland will make an old favorite seem like new. The girls think they know what to expect from another family vacation in Tahoe. I can’t wait until they realize how mistaken they are.

What kind of family trips do you like to take in winter?