Tag Archive for: family travel

Running on Empty (But Loving It)

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I carried the stroller up 300 steps to see this.

I always get irritated when I read gossip magazines (yes, I do it often) and see stars such as Nick Cannon and Kelly Ripa claim the way they stay fit is by “chasing their kids.”

No kids move that much, I think to myself. (Beside, wouldn’t a celebrity just hire a nanny?)

After nearly a month in London, however, I can safely say: I get it. I have the bulk of childcare duties in our family over here, and I am almost always operating within one standard deviation of total exhaustion.

For me this is a new kind of exhaustion. The kind that has prompted me to fall asleep at my computer writing this post for three consecutive nights (including tonight).

Part of it is physical; I feel it in my over-used biceps and knees at the end of a long day, and submit to it (in a fit of narcolepsy) the minute the Big Girl sits down for a “Doc McStuffins” (Or, as the baby so adorably calls her, “Doctor Fuffins”).

But it also is a mental exhaustion—it’s like I’ve got a permanent case of the stupids. The biggest manifestation of this comes every day around the girls’ lunchtime, when I remember I haven’t eaten all day. (On a related note, despite my previous declarations of hatred for fried potatoes, I can’t keep weight on here to save my life.)

I’m sure part of this stems from the fact that we native urbanites had become country folk; that Powerwoman and I simply weren’t accustomed to the (very typical) physical demands of the city. For us, in London, some of these exigencies include schlepping strollers up and down scores of stairs, carrying babies for 20 blocks at a clip, and balancing two granola bars and two cups while standing on the crosstown bus.

(Saturday alone, on a day that included Tubing it from our flat to Trafalgar Square and back, I logged more than 800 steps while carrying R in her buggy. Now I cannot straighten my left arm.)

I’m not the only parent to acknowledge I sometimes feel like I’m in over my head; a great piece on TODAY this week spotlighted working moms (though, regrettably, no dads) who have copped to being overwhelmed.

I’m also not complaining in any way, shape, or form. To be clear: I wouldn’t change any aspect of our lives here.

Still, minding two kids in a foreign city is hard. Period.

And so, to the Kelly Ripas and Nick Cannons among us, I say this: I feel you. I am truly sorry for my skepticism and loathing.  I see now that it is entirely possible to lose weight from “chasing after kids” while traveling in a big city, and I (proudly?) consider myself part of a select crew. Who needs Zumba? Who needs running? Let’s just hope the girls don’t wise up and start seeking compensation for their work as my personal trainers. Stranger things have happened for sure.

How do you stave off exhaustion when traveling with kids?

‘Getting Wet’ on Family Trips

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Splish-splash.

Splish-splash.

We were playing in the playground at a local park when a new addition to the expat scene started the interrogation.

He grilled me about local schools. He asked for my favorite local restaurants. He went so far as to inquire about my favorite Tube stop, my favorite bus line and my preferred neighborhood bodega. Then he dropped the ultimate bomb.

“What do you do with the kids when it rains?” the guy asked in a panicked tone that conveyed total bewilderment.

“Well,” I replied quickly, “We get wet.”

This answer was significant for two reasons. First, of course, it indicated that we have lived in London long enough to do as Londoners do—that is, though the rain initially deterred us from going out and about, it no longer fazes us at all. Second, it revealed to me something bigger, bolder and more bad-ass about the way our family approaches travel in general: We don’t let anything slow us down.

No, I’m not admitting to a Griswoldian strategy of running my kids into the ground (though, before I became a father, my friends used to accuse me of “Clarking” them on guys’ trips). I’m simply stating that we usually don’t let harmless but unforeseen elements get in the way of experiencing a new place.

No matter how much our girls might want to stay inside.

We’ve forced the kids outside (and outside of their comfort zones) a number of times this past week. One day we got stuck in a squall on our walk back from the Tube (in case you, like the inquisitor, are wondering, our favorite stop is Warwick Avenue).  Another day, at a park up in St. John’s Wood, we waited out a downpour while trying to catch raindrops in an empty coffee cup.

Then, of course, was the afternoon I dressed up the girls in their “Welly boots” and led them around the corner for the sole purpose of splashing in a giant puddle.

At first the girls almost didn’t get it; both of them looked at me with expressions that said, “You mean this is what we’re doing out here?” Slowly, however, they suspended disbelief. They started jumping. Then they started giggling. At one point, L accidentally kicked off a boot and landed in the puddle with her bare sock. I wasn’t sure how she’d handle the development; to my surprise, she loved every second of it.

By the end of our little puddle-jumping session, both L and R were soaked and happy; neither of them wanted to return to the flat. Over dinner, the girls kept bugging me about when we could go puddle-jumping again. Again and again, my answer was the same: Probably tomorrow. (And it was.)

The bottom line: Whether you’re traveling with or without your kids, you’re not really traveling unless you’re “getting wet.” Get out. Don’t let unforeseen circumstances throw you off your game. And remember that even with the greatest guidebook, the only way to experience a new destination is to explore.

How do you improvise when unforeseen circumstances force you to change plans on a family trip?

Experiencing the House that Thomas Lord Built

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Surveying the scene at Lord's.

Surveying the scene at Lord’s.

Considering that I come from a long line of New York Yankees fans, I geek out pretty dramatically about (legitimately) storied sports franchises. I’m also a big believer in checking out the home stadiums of these teams—sometimes even if there’s no game being played—just to glimpse the hallowed ground.

As a parent, I’ve tried to incorporate these passions into many of our family trips. Even if the girls don’t “get” why we’re visiting these places, I like to expose them to my interests by bringing them along.

This all explains why one of the girls and I went to a cricket match this weekend.

Our flat, in the Maida Vale neighborhood of London, is a short walk from Lord’s Cricket Ground, one of the most celebrated cricket arenas in all of England. The arena is in St. John’s Wood (where The Beatles recorded “Abbey Road”). The earliest known match played there was in 1814. That means that pitch has seen a lot of history.

I admit it: I don’t know much about cricket beyond what I’ve learned from the Lord’s website over the last few days. I do, however, know that many locals are mad about the sport, and I figured that a stadium that’s been around since the early 1800s has got to be a pretty special place.

(It turns out Lord’s is known as “The Home of Cricket.” Go Figure.)

So I checked it out for the one-day price of 5 pounds. With R, the baby (who got in free). In the middle of a lazy, rainy Saturday.

Our visit required some serious patience. When we arrived the first time, right around noon, the ticket-taker informed us the teams were “having a luncheon,” and that play would resume in a bit (to kill time, we headed to a nearby playground around the corner). Later, after a “luncheon” of our own (lesson learned: salt beef > pastrami), we returned, only to find that play was in a brief rain delay.

Finally, around 1:15, play resumed, and we went in.

Because it was the fourth day of a 4-day match (in cricket, teams play for multiple days at a time), and because the aforementioned weather was horrendous, the place was deserted. R and I took advantage of the empty seats by standing right near the sidelines, as close to the action as we could get.

As we watched the home team (Middlesex) pummel visiting Nottinghamshire, I tried to explain to R what was happening on the field. My “lesson” included details on bowlers, batsmen, wickets and other strange phrases I’m not sure I completely understand (such as “innings,” which means exactly what innings do in baseball, but apparently always has an “s” on the end, even when the word is singular).

The kid’s favorite part: Watching the bowlers wind up to deliver the ball. She also really liked the giant weather vane on the east side of the stadium and a giant clock across the pitch.

We lingered to watch a dozen points—45 minutes in all. Then we had to get home for nap time.

I spent much of the night wondering how much of our day at Lord’s R would remember. I got my answer this morning when she woke up. As I picked her up out of her crib, she spit out her pacifier and asked me, “Daddy, go see cricket today?” That alone was worth the price of admission. And then some.

What kinds of sports experiences do you seek out when traveling with kids?

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Kids’ Passports (But Were Afraid To Ask)

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Don't mess around.

Don’t mess around.

My debut article in Scholastic Parent & Child magazine hit newsstands this week. The subject: Kids’ passports, and everything you ought to know to prepare for taking your little ones abroad.

The story, titled, “A Parent’s Guide to Passports for Kids,” offers advice on everything from custody issues to renewal timing. It hinges on the expertise and insights of Brenda Sprague, the U.S. State Department’s deputy assistant secretary for passport services. It also includes a few anecdotes from some family travelers I know (and respect).

The story even includes a bunch of helpful links.

If you never have traveled abroad with your baby or toddler, consider the piece a must-read; if you travel regularly with the youngsters, please use the piece as a CliffsNotes-style refresher course.

Also, if you feel I’ve left out anything important, feel free to add tips in the comment field below.

Most important, please don’t think this is advice you can ignore or follow selectively. Few international travel stresses are more acute than those involving your kids. Take it from someone who has learned a few of these lessons the hard way.

To School or Not To School

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How dare we separate these two BFFs?

How dare we separate these two BFFs?

The big question in our flat this week pertains to enrolling L in school during our time here in London. Do we or don’t we? Powerwoman and I continue to go back and forth.

Some parts of the equation are simple. Yes, we took our 4-year-old out of her second year of preschool to be here for the fall. And, yes, we plan to send her back to the same preschool when we return (the folks who run her preschool have been kind enough to save her spot).

We also believe that L (like most kids) thrives in the school environment, and needs the age-appropriate social stimulation that environment provides.

Beyond these truths, however, we are truly flummoxed.

First is the issue of logistics. Last year, at home, L attended school twice a week for three hours a day. This year, when we return, she’ll attend school three times a week for three hours a day. Here, however, they do school differently. Most kids are in full-time school of some sort by age 2. It actually has been very difficult (and incredibly frustrating) to find a preschool equivalent that isn’t fewer than three full days (read: 8 hours a day) every week.

Then is the issue of philosophy. We relish the fact that we have the opportunity to live abroad with the girls while they’re so young. Because we are travelers by nature, we want to show them the city, take them around England, and explore Europe as frequently as possible.

I, in particular, am struggling with the decision, as I’ve taken it upon myself to create a “classroom” out of the everyday, supplementing journeys to different parts of the city with “lessons” before and after.

(Example: we’re attending a cricket match this weekend and I’ve started with stories about the rules.)

Still, the situation raises pretty serious questions. To what extent would L suffer from being out of school for four months? To what extent would enrolling her change the everyday, on-the-ground experience for her (and the rest of us)? How difficult—if at all—would it be for her to adjust to a new school in a new city in a new home? Finally: How might her enrollment impact our ability to travel while here?

Ultimately, I think Powerwoman and I probably will seek a compromise. My hunch is that this compromise likely will involve enrolling L in a full-week, half-day program, and insisting that the school allows us to keep her out one day a week (preferably a Monday or a Friday) to keep up our “curriculum” of exploring through travel.

Is this ideal? Not really. But at least the approach would incorporate both the traditional (school) and something new (travel).

At the end of the day, the school issue isn’t about what’s best for us at all; it’s about what’s best for L. That reality doesn’t change with a mailing address. And it’s a notion we try to embrace regarding both daughters wherever and whenever we can.

How have you handled schooling your kids during extended family trips?

Supporting Cancer Research Through Travel

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Donate to support cancer research and you can party like a rock star here.

Donate to support cancer research and you can party like a rock star here.

I’m proud to call Expedia one of my biggest clients (I contribute to their Expedia Viewfinder blog), and to celebrate Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, Expedia has joined forces with St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis, giving everyone a chance to donate to a great cause and take a trip of a lifetime.

As part of this promotion, Expedia is giving away 150 trips, including 30 big “Dream Trips” each day for the month of September.

Giveaways last all month, and a new Dream Trip will be showcased each day. To support this effort, my colleagues at Expedia have rallied a bunch of expert family travelers across the country to feature their favorite Dream Trips Giveaways in the Well-Traveled Families for St. Jude Blog Carnival.

Expedia announced the program on the Expedia Viewfinder blog earlier this week. Then, my colleague, Anne Taylor Hartzell (a.k.a. the Hip Travel Mama), kicked things off yesterday with a post about a giveaway to the Fairmont Kea Lani resort in Maui, Hawaii. Today, I’m excited to feature a Dream Trip to Las Vegas, one of my favorite destinations on Earth.

The trip, titled “Experience Las Vegas Like a Rock Star,” revolves around a stay at Aria Resort & Casino. Here are the details:

  • Round-trip air tickets for two (on Spirit Airlines)
  • A three-night stay at Aria Resort & Casino
  • A “Vegas Rock Star” club crawl (which enables you to skip the lines at popular clubs and travel the Strip in a party bus)
  • Maverick “flight-seeing” helicopter adventure for two
  • Two free tickets to Zarkana by Cirque du Soleil
  • A limousine tour of Vegas highlights
  • A $500 Visa gift card.

All told, the estimated value of this package is more than $3,000; it (or any of the other Dream Trips) can be yours for a suggested $5 minimum donation. DONATE NOW for an opportunity to win this trip (and see Expedia for official rules). And, hey, if you donate $25 or more, you can get a coupon for 20 percent off future hotel bookings on Expedia’s mobile app or 10 percent off purchases on Expedia.com.

To reiterate, ALL DONATIONS GO DIRECTLY TO ST. JUDE. That means all donations will help kids who have cancer. I can’t think of a better cause to support.

Embracing Playgrounds of the Future

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Coffee made this (fantastic) playground better.

Coffee made this (fantastic) playground better.

I have seen the playgrounds of the future on the streets of London, and they all have one thing in common: Cafes.

No, I’m not talking about tiny kiosks that sell nothing but candy bars and bags of chips. I’m talking full-on, honest-to-goodness cafes. With fresh food. Ice cream. And, best of all, espresso machines. That make strong coffee drinks. Quickly.

Seriously.

After two weeks on the ground here, three of our four favorite playgrounds have such snack bars. And I’m already spoiled rotten. Heck, the café at the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Playground in Kensington Gardens even sells hot pizzas. Who in his or her right mind wouldn’t be all over something like that?

Specifically, I like the trend for a number of reasons.

First, for parents like me—humans who regularly operate at a sleep deficiency—knowing that you’re never more than a swingset away from a double Americano does wonders for the energy levels (and the patience levels while “negotiating” with cheeky kids).

Second, when you forget to bring snacks from home, the baristas/snack-keepers have you covered.

Finally, these on-site cafés offer a certain degree of flexibility to reward good behavior (or to splurge on lunch away from home). If the kids are being good and you don’t really feel like racing home to eat, you can dash into the café to buy relatively healthy sandwiches and fruit at the playground and chow down there.

I beg of our community leaders back home: HOOK US UP! As an expat who has appreciated the beauty of playground cafes here, I publicly cast my vote. Tens of thousands of parents across our nation would agree if they had the option to do so. Who says we grownups can’t have fun at playgrounds too?

To what extent would you patronize a café at your favorite playground?

Moments Mean Everything on Family Trips

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A great moment from a recent day at Regent's Park.

A great moment from a recent day at Regent’s Park.

Just because an article is witty and well-written doesn’t mean it’s good. Case in point: a recent piece on Huff Post Parents that paints family travel in a playfully pejorative light.

The writer, Steve Wiens, asserted in the piece that traveling with kids is more of a “trip” than a “vacation.” He alleged that family travel is never truly enjoyable because kids behave like, well…kids. Looking back on his experiences during a recent family excursion, he worte: “By far the best moment every day was when the kids were finally in bed, and the adults all gathered upstairs to laugh, moan about our sore, aging bodies, and relive every precious part of that day.”

And unless I’m missing some sort of tongue-in-cheek vibe, it seems the dude’s thesis is that most of us endure family travel because it’s what good parents do (and because, at some point in the future of our children’s lives, it will suck less).

Put simply, I could not disagree more.

To say that the “best moment of every day was when the kids were finally in bed” is to reject fundamentally the most basic premise of FAMILY TRAVEL. If Wiens actually means this—if he’s not just saying it for effect—why the hell does he bother traveling with children in the first place? Why doesn’t he just ditch the kids with their grandparents and take his spouse to Vegas?

In this family, we embrace those moments when the girls (unintentionally) remind us just how special they really are. Maybe one of them chases after a pigeon. Maybe one draws a flower. Maybe the two of them just hold hands as they walk down the sidewalk.

These are the best moments of our days together. Not the moments when they are unconscious in bed.

I won’t lie—from time to time Powerwoman and I have to work hard to find a good moment upon which to build. Heck, here in London we have had to skip a few days entirely. But when we are lucky enough to experience these wonderful snapshots of our zany and wacky and unpredictable children interacting with the world, nothing else really matters. And that’s what our family vacations are all about.

What are the “best moments” of your family’s getaways?

Inspirational Words from a Wise Colleague (and Family Traveler)

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Carol Cain, at her joyful best. (Photo by @TravelingLatina)

Carol Cain, at her joyful best. (Photo by @TravelingLatina)

Many of my travel writer friends are wiser and more eloquent than I, and Carol Cain, of Girl Gone Travel (and a fellow Expedia Viewfinder blogger), is one of them.

Earlier today, Carol took time from her busy travel schedule to dash off a beautiful post for an inside baseball-type Facebook group for fellow travel bloggers. The piece moved me so much, I had to share it (verbatim) here:

    “On the flight over here I tried to take a nap but a crying baby made it impossible. I could’ve thrown a tantrum. I could’ve judged the parents and criticized the system that allows crying babies on flights…near me. There’s no denying I was exhausted as I’ve been traveling tons and had a rough morning of my own. So I turned around to look at the young parents who immediately noticed my looking and started to apologize in union. Yes, they were apologizing to me for their crying baby. I smiled and asked about their little girl. “What’s her name?” “How old is she?” “She’s precious,” I told them, “A beautiful child,” I said. The mom relaxed a bit. The dad sighed. The mom turned her still crying baby to face me. I started talking to her and gently caressed her little hand. She immediately stopped crying and smiled. “She’s mesmerized by you,” the mom said. It took a moment, just a small gesture of kindness. The parents still had their hands full but the baby didn’t cry again after that. Just be kind.”

I thought this travel tip was particularly fitting in the wake of the news that yet another airline has decided to offer child-free seating (this time the offender is Singapore’s Scoot Airlines; if you’re curious about my outrage on this subject, read my posts for Parenting here and here). The lesson: It’s not about the kids, people. It’s about the grownups. And all of us can be a bit nicer from time to time.

What’s your take on the trend of airlines offering child-free seating?

When New Is Scary on a Family Trip

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This one likes the Tube; the other, not so much.

This one likes the Tube; the other, not so much.

Especially when kids are young, family travel forces them to see, smell, hear, taste and touch things they never have seen, smelled, tasted or touched before.

Most of the time, these new experiences go swimmingly and everybody oohs and aahs over how cute it all was. Sometimes, however, new stuff can trigger a DEFCON-1, global-thermonuclear-war type of meltdown. The kind that leads to silent crying. The kind that makes passersby think your child needs to be institutionalized. For life.

We’ve encountered both realities during our first 10 days here in London. Thankfully, the wins outnumber the losses. Among the victories: The stoop in front of our walk-up, river busses, old cathedrals. Among the losses: Bangers, crowds near Buckingham Palace.

For R, who freaks when she hears loud noises, the biggest debacle so far has been the Tube.

The mere mention of the subway sends the kid into hysterics. As we approach the station, she frantically clutches for dear life. When the trains enter the station, she covers her ears and screams. On the trains, she acts like a baby marsupial, burrowing her head into the nearest armpit until the horror ends.

Powerwoman and I have responded to these theatrics cautiously. On one hand, we don’t want the kid to freak. On the other hand, we don’t want to coddler her too much, especially since the child is going to have to get over it once my wife starts teaching (that’s why we’re here through Xmas; the fall semester starts Sept. 9) and I’ll be riding the trains with the girls solo.

I hope that the more we expose R to the Tube, the more comfortable with it she becomes. Of course this plan totally could backfire, and she could end up hating it even more because we won’t give up.

The conundrum raises an interesting point about the difference between comforting and dishing out tough love on a trip. How much do you bend before you break? How much are you willing to give your kids what they want before you start making them based upon what they need?

Obviously answers to these questions will be different for everyone.

The act of asking them, however, can be a good exercise—especially if you run through it before you’re in the moment trying to manage a maniacal kid.

My advice: Unless a new experience could physically harm your child, keep at it as long as it seems sensible (and kind) to do so. Put differently: Don’t let a little crying or standing on ceremony deter you from introducing your kids to new stuff away from home. Change can be scary. Disrupted routines can suck. But the more you expose your kids to these realities at an early age, the better equipped they will be to handle them as travelers later in life.

How do you handle it when your kids are spooked by new experiences on family trips?