Vacation

One of the hardest things for me to master as a single mom has been vacationing. Not just the epic packing battles with two little girls who only want to bring 3 swim suits and 5 sundresses even when it's a snow trip, but the logistics of traveling alone with two small kids, and frequently a dog as well: all of those contingency plans and nerve-wracking crowded airports or hopes that the car doesn't break down en route to some hours-away destination.

Last summer was my first time driving to our family's cabin, 4.5 hours away, through hot valley towns and up into the Sierras, finishing with a 45 minute trek along a rutted dirt logging road, with two girls and a dog. There were bathroom breaks, dog water breaks, snack breaks, general runaround breaks for two girls who could only be happily confined to their hot pink car seats for so long. I stressed about the the possibility of having car issues, about the dog overheating in the car as I ran the girls into the next rest stop, about getting too tired and fed up with the back seat fighting and having no one to help me out.

I caravanned with some family friends that first time up, just in case anything went awry, and during the long drive I realized something invaluable: I had it down. This single-motherhood thing had already become second-nature to me. The girls had a bin of books and games wedged between their car seats that kept them busy for much of the time. We blasted music and sang together when we needed to perk up. I had a mini-cooler of food and drinks on the passenger seat, full of pre-cut, single-serve portions I'd readied the night before. I had a clear view of the dog sleeping on top of our pile of suitcases in the back, and could see when he was getting restless. When we had to stop in hot towns I blasted the A/C to cool off the car, then found a shady parking spot and made a game out of rushing the girls off to the bathroom and back to the car as quickly as possible. I lounged on random lawns outside fast food restaurants while the dog trotted around and the girls picked dandelions. I let go of my usual travel timetable, any expectations, and relaxed. And it was fine.

That's not to say I haven't had any travel or vacation hiccups in my year of doing it solo. We've been stranded with a dead car battery. We've had throwing up children traveling with borrowed bowls on their laps in the car. We've had the dog get into some sort of insect nest and end up with a face swollen with three baseball-size lumps and had to rush him to the nearest emergency vet. We've had a cross-country flight just days after Peanut fell and knocked out her front tooth and loosened up a handful of others, juggling her all-liquid diet on an airline in this no-liquids-through-security era. And we've made it through it all. And got some good stories to boot.

So today I'm packing up for our first big trip of the season. I have lists of all of the clothes, food, meds, toys, and dog supplies I will need. And I have the confidence, that even if some disaster befalls us mid-route, we'll get through it, we'll make the best of it, and we'll still have a good time.

And if it's really bad, I'll end up with a great story out of it.

Getaways

The hubby and I took a two-day getaway to Las Vegas (the furthest I’ve traveled kid-free since String Bean was born), while brave grandma stayed with the girls. She says they did fine, kept the basic routine with some added elements, like a checklist written in big bold caps, that the girls got to check off as they completed each item (eat breakfast, get dressed, brush teeth, go potty, etc.). The girls apparently loved the list concept, and were not just cooperative, but eager to get through each step just so they could use a colored marker to check off the big empty box before the item.

We came home from the airport during naps (which the girls, miraculously, took, all three days for their grandma, after weeks of non-napping for me). When String Bean woke up, she first wanted to know if we’d brought her a present from our trip, and then (while wearing the new necklace she’d scored), she wanted to cuddle on my lap for the next two days solid. It’s how it always is with her when I go away, whether for an evening, a night, or a weekend. She is happy to see me when I get back, and reluctant to let me out of her sight for a few days. She gets tearful if I try to sneak off to the bathroom without telling her where I’m going, is moody at the next school drop off, calls me back into her room frequently after putting her to bed with silly questions and concerns, just to make sure I’m still there.

When I got Peanut up from her nap after being gone for two days, she smiled at seeing me and said, “Grandma said you were coming home.” I picked her up in a big hug, gave her a kiss, and she immediately said, “Put me down,” and was off and running to find Grandma, her big sister, her new doll house. Peanut’s behavior is pretty much exactly the same with me whether I’ve been gone or not.

I guess it’s a nice combination, one higher-maintenance and clingier child who makes me feel endlessly needed, but can also wear me down with her demands, and one easy-going less affectionate child who doesn’t make me feel like the center of her universe, but never taxes my reserves when I’m running low after a couple of late nights. I do look forward to the day when I can take an overnight break for myself and not feel like I have to make it up to String Bean afterward. But I also know that when that day comes, I’ll miss being the most important person in her world, just a little.

Car Travel

We’ve done a lot of car travel with these two munchkins: some short trips (the 2 hours to my mother’s house), some longer (the 4-5 hours to our cabin), and some much longer (the 8-10 hour haul to San Diego and back). On these various outings, there are a few things I’ve learned about car travel with my girls. First, they don’t sleep in the car. Ever. I’ve chatted with several friends about their kids and have come to the conclusion that I have the only children who simply refuse to nap in a moving car. I don’t know why it is that I’ve been graced with this particular issue, but it has finely honed my abilities to entertain carseat-bound kids for extended periods of time.

DVD players work for a short stretch, maybe 45 minutes top, but beyond that and my kids just start taking turns trying to kick the DVD player or start yelling at Wall-E or Woody and Buzz or whoever they’re watching at the time. I love those Color Wonder coloring books and pens, the ones that only color on their own paper. I still have red crayon (washable my ass) on the car’s side panel from a birthday party favor bag I didn’t thoroughly screen before driving home. So, no crayons in the car. One of my favorite solutions is the laundry basket (a small one, from the dollar store) wedged between their car seats. I keep a variety of small toys in there, and swap them out before car trips. Not only does it keep a lot of toys at hand, but when they drop the toys, about half the time it lands back in the basket, reducing the number of times I have to reach behind me to fetch something. This trip the basket was full of dinosaurs, little bendable aliens, a travel magnadoodle, a couple of Christmas books—yes, I know it’s May—toy horses, a Barbie doll, and two hand puppets. Notice the lack of noise-making toys, also key.

I also hit the dollar bin at Target and gather a few new toys for the ride, then stow them up front in a bag. Every hour or so I hand one back to them. They can be anything: silly sunglasses, a cheap kaleidoscope, a fuzzy felt flower. There’s nothing like the arrival of a new, unexpected toy to buy you some happy kid time three hours into a long drive.

Snacks are also important. While my picky eaters won’t sit still for more than thirty seconds for a meal in the house, they seem content to munch away while in the car. I use this time to catch them up on their calories (then use the dog to clear out the mess after we arrive at our destination). Those little snack cups, with handles and a top with an opening just small enough for little kid fingers are good. I like to mix up Cheerios, raisins, and throw in something for protein, either pine nuts, sunflower seeds, or peanut-butter filled pretzels. String cheese is always popular, too. This last trip the mini carrots and sugar snap peas were the biggest hits, but I realize my kids are weird about loving fruits and veggies above all else, so that tip might not help anyone else. Then again, your kids would probably be napping by this point.

Traveling Man

One thing about having a husband who travels a lot for work is that you get used to it. Not in a good way, like you prefer it or anything, but over the course of each business trip, you adjust from operating in survival mode to functioning fairly well in single-mom mode. Then hubby comes home, with a suitcase of dirty laundry and different priorities and work vents to unload, and there’s an adjustment period. Not that it’s bad to have him back, just that it can be hard, especially if you’re as much of a control freak as I am, to switch hats in mid-stride, from sole parent back to joint parent, allowing for different discipline styles, opinions on appropriate volume levels for children’s voices, just how much mess is tolerable (from adults as well as kids), or how long a child has to sit at the table before an uneaten meal before being excused.

After a couple of months of business trip after business trip, hubby and I have now had three blissful weeks in the same city together. It’s been a long time since we’ve had this kind of togetherness, it was overdue, and I’m valuing every minute of it. Not just the extra hands for evening baths or dishes or tickle sessions with the girls, although I certainly appreciate all of that, but mostly it’s just been nice to have my best friend back, sitting on the couch with me after the kids are down each night, laughing with me about some nonsense a family member said that day, or the time the dog got trapped inside his dog bed, or a great line on a TV show. These are the things you lose when your connection is limited to a 20-minute phone call each evening, when you’re both too tired to think and can’t remember the list of household issues you wanted to discuss, much less a distant friend’s hilarious status update on Facebook that morning.

Hubby’s boss is already giving him a list of clients he needs to visit, across the country and around the world, and tomorrow he boards a plane for another business trip. While this great little spell of daily togetherness is coming to an end, I hope I remember a few things while he’s out of town this week. I’m going to try to forget sharing so many updates about school events or getting his opinion on house maintenance needs, and try to focus on a few funny things each day to share. After all, a little laughter together at the end of each day is the best way to connect.