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The importance of looking up

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It’s easy on family trips to get bogged down in the stuff that’s right in front of you: Screaming toddlers, bickering tweens, Snapchatting teenagers. Sometimes, it’s just as important to look up.

Powerwoman and I were reminded of this today during a snowball fight with the L and R in the backyard of our vacation home rental here in Tahoe. In the midst of battle, I heard an eagle cry. In the distance, I was able to spot a bald eagle perched high atop the lake, tending to eaglets in a nest.

The four of us (Baby G was sleeping inside) stopped our snowballs and plopped in the snow, marveling at the mighty bird. We couldn’t see much, but just knowing it was there kept our attention for the better part of five minutes. It was one of the most magical travel moments with the girls in recent memory. And it never would have happened without simply taking a break.

Pausing FTW

Pausing FTW

Congressmen push to make family travel more accessible

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Get it together, legislators!

Get it together, legislators!

Every now and again, our elected officials actually do something I can get behind. Case in point: the FAA Reauthorization Bill, which includes a push to make into law new rules that would require airlines to allow families to guarantee seats together on planes.

In other words, the legislation aims to make traveling with children more accessible for everyone.

I don’t just support this because of my involvement with the Family Travel Association (though, I admit, the FTA will be supporting this legislation in a HUGE way). I support the bill because I’ve been separated from my kids on a flight before, and it’s about time we did something to prevent it from happening to other families.

Technically, the bill is H.R. 3334. The formal name for it is the “Families Flying Together Act.” It’s been introduced before. And, much like that first, time, the legislation is being championed by U.S. Representatives Rodney Davis (R-Ill.) and Jerrold Nadler (D-N.Y.).

H.R. 3334 is expected to be added as an amendment to the FAA Reauthorization Bill, which the House Transportation and Infrastructure Committee will consider later this month. If all goes well, both 3334 and the bill itself will be voted into law later this year.

There’s a lot of work to do before then, though. First is convincing lawmakers that this is something which warrants attention. Next is inspiring other traveling parents to get behind the effort as well. To this end, Davis and Nadler have been circulating a letter to their colleagues outlining the merits of their addendum to the big bill. Here’s a (lengthy) snip from that letter:

As airlines change policies and increase fees for a variety of basic services, it is becoming more difficult for families with small children to sit together on commercial flights. There are increasing reports of parents being separated from their children when they arrive to board an aircraft. Often the only ‘recourse’ is to rely on another passenger to voluntarily change seats. This inconvenience for everyone involved is complicated by the fact that a passenger might have to vacate a seat for which they [sic] paid a premium in order to allow a parent to sit next to their [sic] child.

This scenario also has the potential of being unsafe and traumatic for the families involved. It is not in a child’s best interest, nor does it serve the other passengers on board, to allow small children to be seated alone and separated from their parents on a flight. It is simply common sense to ensure a small child does not sit unattended, next to strangers, on an airplane.

H.R. 3334, the Families Flying Together Act, would require each air carrier to establish and make publicly available on their [sic] website a policy ensuring that families purchasing tickets are seated together to the greatest extent practicable. Further, it would also require airlines to notify passengers traveling with small children if seats are not available together at the point of purchase. These common-sense reforms would increase transparency for consumers and vastly improve the flying experiences of families with small children.

Flight passengers deserve predictability and transparency, particularly for something as basic as a seating assignment. H.R. 3334 does so in a way that prioritizes the safety and well-being of small children without being overly burdensome for airlines.

The issue at hand is clear. For the first time in a while, we actually might be able to do something about it. Now it’s time to come together and do something about it. If you want to get involved, call your representative and ask him/her to support H.R. 3334. At the very least, share this post with other traveling parents to raise awareness of this golden opportunity to make a change. Thanks in advance for your support.

Confessions of a 3-year-old cruiser

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Aunt Sherri and Tennyson.

Aunt Sherri and Tennyson.

We family travel writers can pen article after article about how we think our kids enjoy family trips. Nothing, however, beats getting insight from the kids themselves.

That’s precisely why I *love* the latest article from a friend and former editor of mine, Sherri Eisenberg. The article, titled “Confessions of a 3-year-old cruiser,” ran today on Yahoo Travel and outlines the travel perspective of Tennyson, Sherri’s 3-year-old niece, with whom Sherri recently took some cruises.

The format of the article is wonderfully simple; Aunt Sherri lists seven different quotes from Tennyson, then expounds on each sentiment with context and thoughts of her own. My favorite of the kid’s quotes: “Bring some of your own toys…you don’t know what they’ll have.” A close second: “When you get onboard, eat something, then go right to the pool.”

(OK, I also really like this one: “You should eat lots of treats.”)

Powerwoman and I haven’t had the opportunity to expose our trio of girls to cruising—yet. It’s on our list for 2017, and we can’t wait. Perhaps we’ll take some of Tennyson’s advice. After all, the little ones always seem to know best.

Sand in the minivan

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We rung in the new year in style today, traipsing all over our favorite beach in Sonoma County. As the crow flies, Goat Rock State Beach (part of Sonoma Coast State Park) is only about 25-30 miles from our home. But because it takes about 75 minutes to get there, we consider an excursion to this spot a family travel adventure of the day-trip variety.

And what an adventure it was. After experiencing a shutout for the first 20 minutes, the big girls found 27 pieces of beach glass in the 35 minutes that followed. The wind whipped us until we felt like icicles. We counted not one, not two, but THREE rogue waves.

Oh, and Baby G slept through her first trip to the ocean.

After the beach, we drove 10 miles south into Bodega Bay, where the five of us (ICYW, Baby G still was sleeping) grabbed some fish ‘n’ chips at one of our favorite local restaurants.

I capped the excursion by taking L and R on a walk around the marina, exploring finger docks (thankfully no-one fell in), dodging seagull poop (thankfully no-one got hit), watching pelagic birds (they loved the petrels), and scanning the surface of the water for signs of Harbor seals or California sea lions (sadly, no dice here).

Perhaps the most satisfying part of the afternoon came when we pulled into the driveway at home. The Big Girls got out and went inside. Powerwoman took the baby out and brought her in, too. I lingered a bit to collect some of the wrappers and usual detritus a family amasses on a daylong road trip.

That’s when I noticed it: The inside of our new minivan was covered with sand.

Normally this kind of unexpected mess would drive a neurotic freak like me nuts. This time, however, it was comforting, enthralling, and downright wonderful.

In that moment, the sand was the physical manifestation of a return to normalcy in our lives—a sign that after more than a month of working through a new routine as a family of five, our Wandering Pod was wandering again. It was, quite simply, proof we are back. Now that’s a mess I can embrace.

Jim Gaffigan on traveling with five kids

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The challenges of traveling with multiple children are real. Powerwoman and I are reminded of this whenever we leave the house these days with L and R and (now) G in tow. But, really, we’ve got nothing on Jim Gaffigan.

The Gaffigans meet Rapunzel (from "The Jim Gaffigan Show" website).

The Gaffigans meet Rapunzel (from Gaffigan himself).

Yes, THAT Jim Gaffigan. The comedian. The guy who played my favorite role on the television show, “My Boys,” back in the day. The guy who made millions on the “Hot Pockets” skit.

You see, Gaffigan has five kids. And apparently, as we call can watch on his new reality show, “The Jim Gaffigan Show,” he and his wife take them on the road when Gaffigan is touring. Ostensibly to promote the show, Gaffigan opened up to Kelly DiNardo in a recent Q&A for The New York Times about the rigors and realities of traveling with a handful of offspring. If you read nothing else about family travel today, you should read this piece.

Why did I love the story? For starters, it’s funny, just like Gaffigan. Example: “Traveling with 3- and 4-year-old boys is like transferring serial killers from a prison. You have to be constantly aware.”

The piece also offers some really useful tips. Like the part where Gaffigan says he makes his older kids write a single-page diary entry about every city they visit. (I’m *totally* trying that with L.) Or the part where the comedian admits that his kids—like all kids—struggle on international flights.

But my absolute favorite snip from the piece is where Gaffigan defends international family travel. His perspective: “There’s this perception that with international travel it’s not worth it because [kids] don’t get it. I think they do. And I think they see their parents behave differently in different cultures. My kids are pretty good travelers. I think they’re more sturdy because of it, more resilient.”

All told, the piece will take you five minutes to read. Check it out.

Embracing the art of surrender

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Surrendering to these two and their sister.

Surrendering to these two and their sister.

It’s been about two weeks since Baby G was born, and everyone keeps asking me how Powerwoman and I are adjusting to life as the parents of three. The short answer is: We’re getting there. The long answer is a bit more raw: Holy shit, you guys, this transition is f-ing hard.

How else to explain this crazy phenomenon of now being responsible for THREE little humans instead of two?

First have been the logistical challenges. Another child means a third set of needs we parents need to meet. It also means that Powerwoman and I must establish a brand new rhythm and cadence to parenting; we had become really good at balancing two, now there’s another kid in that mix. (Some people call this “zone defense” instead of “man-to-man defense,” but I find that analogy sexist and downright lame.)

Then there have been the intangible challenges. The typical hormonal stuff (for both mom and dad) that comes with postpartum life. The emotional challenges of two big sisters working out their own feelings about sharing attention.

Finally there have been the work challenges. While Powerwoman is on maternity leave through April 1, I’m essentially back to a full work schedule. Or at least I should be.

(I work at night, so it’s actually been a blessing to have one parent awake to deal with Baby G in the wee hours. That said, it is hard to focus on writing when you’re sharing an 85-square-foot office with an adorable and wide-awake baby.)

I’d describe my state of mind most times as OVERWHELMED. And I’m not ashamed of saying it.

I had spent the better part of this week feeling stressed about the situation. That’s when I ran into a neighbor who doubles as a Zen master (seriously) and is expecting *his* third child next year.

This neighbor shared with me some philosophy one of his friends told him. In a nutshell, the philosophy revolves around the notion of surrendering to the situation and letting go. According to this line of reasoning, there’s no way to change the amount of logistical and emotional demands afoot in our family right now, so instead of fighting them, I simply need to give in to them, to surrender.

Trust me, it’s not easy to do this—especially not when all three kids are crying at once or an editor is harassing me to file that story that was due three days ago. But the philosophy of “surrender” truly works wonders; when I remind myself to let go, I feel less stressed and barely overwhelmed at all.

Sometimes, in very high-pressure situations, I’ll even say it out loud to myself, just as a reminder to chill.

The best thing about the philosophy of “surrender” is that it applies to just about everything in life. Parenthood. Work. Social situations. Everything.

In the world of travel, the lesson is that every family traveler could stand to surrender a little more in his or her adventures on the road. We all get worked up—about delays, cranky kids, hotel sleeping situations. Surrendering to those of these things you can’t control can help make them seem less daunting/irritating/vexing.

I’m still learning how to surrender. But embracing this perspective as I approach my new life as a father of three sure has made it easier. The friend of my friend is totally right: The more we surrender, the better off we’ll all be.

A letter to our daughter

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G and me.

G and me.

Dear Baby G:

You’re here! Welcome to the world and, more important, to the all-girl band that is our family, or pod.

Your mother and sisters and I are so delighted you’ve arrived. Technically, Mom and I waited nine months for you. But really, we’ve been anticipating your arrival for almost as long as we’ve been married. Your mom is the youngest of three sisters. It’s a distinction she now shares with you.

People often say they “have no words” at momentous times like this. I’m a writer, so that’s never really the case with me. In the immediate future, I’m overjoyed to get to introduce another little human to this thing called life, to watch you marvel at the murmurations of starlings and pucker with disgust when you try pureed parsnip for the first time. I can’t wait for you to get to know your sisters—those crazy kids who keep poking and prodding at your cheeks and chin. I’m stoked to read to you and inspire in you a love of language and listening and cadence and literacy. Down the road, and really more than anything, Baby G, I’m overjoyed at the thought of showing you all of the varied places and people that live on our planet.

In our family, you see, travel is a way of being. Sure, we have a house and bedrooms and regular routines, but we also make sure that, as a family, we regularly experience life beyond the stuff we know best. Foreign places. Unfamiliar people. Unusual cultures. We’re open to it all. Your mom and I believe the mere act of exploring and learning about things that are different from what we know and love helps broaden our minds, widen our perspectives, and temper our judgment.

With this in mind, we always will strive to teach you girls to consider the larger world around us and lean on lessons from that world to make a difference closer to home.

You’ll hear people sum up this philosophy as, “Think globally; Act locally.” To some degree, that catchphrase is apt. Unfortunately, though, in today’s world, many people have become so obsessed with the big picture that they fail to see the changes they can make on a smaller scale. Just this week, another new dad, Mark Zuckerberg, penned a letter to his new daughter, and the note read more like a treatise on global change. I don’t fault this other dad for the sentiment behind his note—broad-sweeping issues such as advancing human potential and promoting equality are important, this dad has a ton of money, and he’s willing to give a lot of his money to make the world a better place. I just believe the secret to real change is focusing on the simpler stuff first.

And so, G, on the first day of your second week of life, I make of you five requests:

  1. Be present. Physically, mentally, AND emotionally, be in the moment, always. When friends and family need you, be there for them, both with listening ears and warm hugs. As you inevitably incorporate technology into your life, do not allow your Smartphone screen (or any other device, for that matter) come between you and the ones you love. Even if you’re upset or angry about something, never let those feelings prevent you from giving others what they need when they need it most.
  2. Be patient. Not everything in life goes the way you want it to go. In these moments of frustration and disillusionment, instead of losing your temper, instead of raising your voice, breathe deeply, “cool your heat” (as the therapists like to say), and give others another chance. If a friend of family member really screws up, forgive them, again and again and again. Always take the time to try and help others learn from their mistakes.
  3. Be kind. The way we treat others says a lot about how we love ourselves. With this in mind, I ask you to approach all interpersonal interactions with thoughtfulness and respect. When you don’t understand another person’s point of view, seek to discuss it with an open mind. When you meet someone different, do not judge that person on those differences, but instead on how he or she treats you and others. Even in the face of evil, remember that all humans deserve dignity.
  4. Be humble. Your mom and I will tell you a billion times how great we think you are. Don’t let it go to your head. Just because we think you’re amazing doesn’t mean others will feel the same way. Just because we’ll work to give you every opportunity under the sun doesn’t mean you’re entitled to the opportunities you receive. Constantly strive to be a better person. Work hard for everything you want. Take nothing for granted. Appreciate every chance to grow.
  5. Be curious. The world is a wonderfully eclectic place, and the only way you’re going to experience that diversity is if you seek it out. When you meet new people, ask questions. When you see new places, explore. When you have the opportunity dig deeper and learn more information about something—anything, really—read, then read, and read some more. Knowledge is the most precious gift in this life. You can never have too much.

Yes, Sweet Baby, in comparison to those macro issues such as advancing human potential and promoting equality, the concepts of being present, patient, kind, humble, and curious are small potatoes. But IMHO, in today’s world, the micro issues are even MORE important. Do them right and you’ll transform your world by the way you interact with others every day. Do them wrong and you’ll contribute negatively to some of the problems we’ve already got.

Someday, maybe you’ll have the financial resources and individual fortitude to take on some of the global issues like the ones that other dad mentioned in the note to his baby. Until then, this dad encourages you to love, give, tolerate, support, teach, help, nurture, and understand. These are my hopes for you and your generation, Baby G. In an era when parts of our world are brimming with hate, violence, and intolerance, we must start small and go from there. Your mom and I are excited to watch you on this journey, and will support you every step of the way.

Love,
Dad

Where we’ll travel in the next 40 years

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This guy is 40.

This guy is 40.

Saturday was my 40th birthday.

Forty. 40. The Big Four-Oh. I’ve been saying and writing it a lot lately, largely because I can’t believe I’ve been on this planet for 40 years. It seems like just yesterday I traveled with some high-school classmates to the first inauguration of then-President Bill Clinton (in 1992). I remember stuff before that, too—the first time I visited Cape Cod (in 1983), the first time I saw a whale in the wild (1981), and more.

You guys, I’m old.

When I’m not sitting here freaking out about receiving my AARP card, all this reflecting on the past has inspired me to think at least a bit about the places I’d like to travel with my family in the next 40 years. Here, then, in no particular order, are some of my picks.

  • Egypt. Powerwoman is an archaeologist, and considering my big girls both are obsessed with mummies and pyramids (largely because their mom is an archaeologist), we MUST go to Egypt as a clan. When we do, I’ll sit back and watch my bride teach her kids how to love antiquity. And it will rule.
  • India. Who WOULDN’T want to go to India? I’m not crazy enough to want to do it with the girls until they are MUCH older (at least teens). But I cannot wait to expose them to life on the subcontinent. Or the food (Indian food is among my faves). Or the Bhangra (I listen to it often when I’m working).
  • South Dakota. Good ol’ S.D. represents one of only four states I’ve never visited (the others are North Dakota, Tennessee and, oddly, Mississippi). It also happens to have two of the American treasures I most want to see: Mount Rushmore and the Badlands. Of all the items on my list, this is the most doable in the immediate future. Stay tuned.
  • Maine. I spent a bunch of summers of my childhood in New England, and none of my girls (including my wife) has ever been there to experience it for herself. At some point—preferably when the kids are still young—I want to take them there to show them the quiet beauty that is our northeasternmost state. (Also, I’ve got a dream to take them sailing on an old schooner.)
  • Italy. Nevermind that both my wife and I each are 50 percent Italian; I want to visit Italy with my family so the girls appreciate time-tested architecture, renaissance artwork, great food, and, of course, REAL GELATO. I’d also love to give the kids the chance to experience The Vatican.

Some people refer to these sorts of lists as “bucket lists.” I’m not a huge fan of that phrase and I dislike the concept of a list of stuff you do so you can say you did it before you croaked. Also, by no means is this list set in stone; I want my picks for places to visit to evolve organically over time.

For me, this list is a start for my next 40 years, a road map, if you will. What’s on yours?

Growing the pod

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Me, with L, six years ago. Ready to do it again!

Me, with L, six years ago. Ready to do it again!

Look up at the masthead of this fair blog and you’ll notice something new: a fifth dorsal fin. This isn’t just an example of artistic expression. Any day now, we’re expecting another daughter.

I’ve made a few subtle references to the new arrival over the last few months, but consider this the first official word. The Wandering Pod is growing. And that’s a wonderful, awesome, exciting, terrifying, crazy, and unbelievable thing. (As we like to tell our friends, we’re either really committed parents, or we’re fucking insane.)

Baby G, as we’ll call her, already has caused quite a stir. As part of an effort to convert my former home office into her room, I hired a crew to build me a new home office in the back corner of our garage. Then we redid floors and carpets, and painted a bunch of stuff (including the baby’s new room; very trippy to see those walls purple). We bought a minivan (more on that later this week). Earlier this week, I fetched the crib and changing table out of storage and put those back together. We even sanitized some pacifiers.

Of course all of these changes pale in comparison to how this little human will transform the way we Villanos travel. For starters, whenever we fly we once again will get to use my least favorite word in the modern English language: LAPCHILD. Next, after two years of traveling diaper-free, we’ll have to schlep diapers and wipes wherever we go. We’ll need to get back in the habit of requesting cribs at hotels. Also, every night around 5 p.m., either Powerwoman or I will disappear from the face of vacation for a while to get the kid to sleep (which means a new travel pre-bed ritual for the bigger girls, who, as of this writing, are 6 and 4).

These changes are only the beginning. Gate-checked strollers. Ergo baby carriers. Breast pumps. We’ll have to whip them all out again and work them all back into the repertoire.

I’d love to stand here and tell you I’m looking forward to most of these changes. The truth, however, is that I’m not—our pod has established some good routines over the last few years, and changing them undoubtedly will be a challenge.

I am interested to see how L and R respond to traveling with a baby. Up until this point, they’ve been the focal points of every trip; how will they fare when they’re sharing our attention with a needy little one? Logistics will be a learning curve, as well—when Baby G wakes up at 2 a.m. in a hotel room in Anaheim (or Kapalua or Seattle or Chicago or Victoria, B.C.) wanting to eat, will L and R wake up, too?

Don’t mistake these doubts and questions as fear; I’m really not worried. Millions of multi-child families have dealt with these issues before us, and millions will deal with them after. Instead, I’d describe my state of mind as curious: In the months following our expansion into an all-girl band, how will our travel style change?

One thing is certain: Whatever happens, you’ll read about it here. So stick around. Stay tuned. And get ready for a bigger, bolder, and better Wandering Pod.

How has a growing family changed your travel style?

Finding math in nature on the road

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Math is cool.
Math is cool.

I never was good at numbers, but one of my fondest memories of math as a teenager was learning about the Fibonacci Sequence.

Ms. Sheehan, my teacher at the time, described this as a series of accumulating numbers in which the next number is found by adding the previous two together beginning with zero and one. The chain of numbers produced (0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, and so on) describe natural phenomenon from leaf growth to the curl of a shell. And once you are familiar with what that chain looks like (check out this video), it’s easy to spot Fibonacci just about everywhere in nature.

A recent article in Sierra magazine reminded me of this. The piece, written by an author named Mikey Jane Moran, makes a bold leap from Fibonacci to the importance of play-based learning, and the need to avoid screens. A snip:

“Tell your children to hunt for the curling Fibonacci shape outdoors and they will start to see the patterns everywhere, in the cowlick on their brother’s head and in spider webs—places where there aren’t really Fibonacci patterns. But the beauty is that they are noticing. Instead of staring at a video game screen on long road trips, they are looking at clouds. Walks may take longer as they stop to look at every little thing, but how can anyone complain?”

If you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you know this notion of play over technology is a big one for me. Quite frankly, it’s nice just to see mainstream publications championing the same priorities for a change.

That said, Moran is right—finding Fibonacci in nature is DAMN cool, and something worth doing.

Whenever I head out with the girls, we try to look for Fibonacci and other phenomena like it. The hunt becomes a big part of our adventure; L and R look everywhere for examples, and the two girls compete to see who can find more (they are sisters, after all). As Moran suggests, the search (and subsequent success or failure) introduces a much-needed component of play into the learning-from-nature mix. The result is a wonderful way to experience new stuff.