My advice on travelling with a toddler? Do it. Do it now
When Indy was six weeks old, we strapped him into his carseat and hit the road for Whistler for a few days. People thought we were crazy.
When he was 8-months-old, we loaded up the SUV and headed to Kelowna with him for a few days. “You’re driving with Indy!?” people asked.
When Indy was 10 months-old, we took the three boys on two planes to Newfoundland and toured the province for a week. That, according to some pals, was ambitious.
But when we told everyone we were taking 21-month-old Indy to Ontario this summer for 16 days — everybody just smiled and wished us a good trip. Little did they know. Little did we know. And now we know.
There is no way that 21-monthold Indy could have done the Whistler trip, the Kelowna trip — or, especially — the Newfoundland trip.
The Indy on this trip has changed overnight — precisely the night we flew from Alberta to Ontario.
Precisely, the night, on the plane, where parents approached me with a sympathetic “I’m sorry” after Indy was THAT KID for nearly the entire four-hour ride (he even kicked the seat in front of him — occupied, thankfully, by a kind or at least quiet passenger).
We left behind a sweet, sometimes-stubborn-but-mostlywell-behaved boy who was finally sleeping through the night consistently. What we got when we arrived in Ontario is a whole different person.
The sweetness and stubbornness are on overdrive; Indy cranks the charm up to 100 per cent and then proceeds to cross over into uncontrollable. The tantrums. The constant demands of “MINE!” The refusal to go to sleep. The near hourly, tearful demands for his bottle. The throwing of said full bottle at the wall. The immunity to time-outs and discipline.
While he has, for the first time, started to absolutely shower me with love — covering me with kisses and affectionate cries of “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” — he has also turned up his WWE skills and physicality. All in the name of fun — for him, anyway. But potentially dangerous for someone with little body awareness.
He seems to come by this behaviour naturally. My husband was such a hyperactive toddler that his doctor told his parents to give him Actifed and drive him around each night until he fell asleep. Needless to say that method is not recommended nowadays.
Don’t misunderstand me. The trip has been filled with beautiful moments with our youngest boy. Watching him run with glee in the Ottawa River at the beach I grew up on. Seeing him splash in the kiddie pool on my parents’ deck. His delight in riding in the $30 stroller we picked up at WalMart. His trips to the park with grandma or grandpa. Watching him take in the sights and sounds as we’ve travelled from southern Ontario to Prince Edward County wine country and now to Deep River, in Eastern Ontario where I grew up.
And we absolutely understand the privilege of having these particular problems. We are lucky to be struggling with an otherwise happy, healthy, smart and developing toddler. A friend with a similarly spirited child reminded me that all of these qualities — determination, exuberance, independence — will serve him well later in life. But for now, they’re serving to make two exhausted parents who, in retrospect, may have chosen a slightly shorter vacation.
The long and short? If you’re thinking of going on a trip with baby — I highly recommend it. Take that infant to Europe. Take your just-learned-to-sit-up babe to the Caribbean. Wanna go with your one-year-old on a road trip? Do it.
Do it before he or she insists on running everywhere in all directions so that you spend hours simply following him or her around, lest they have a meltdown. Do it before they reach the — dare I say it? — terrible twos.
There have been a couple of saving graces on this trip. Indy’s two shows (Peppa Pig and Yo Gabba Gabba) can turn a wild child into an angel as soon as he hears the opening music. The aforementioned grandparents, who have looked after their beloved youngest grandchild while we went to a wedding, brunched with pals, golfed on numerous occasions and even napped, have been nothing short of heroic. Living across the country has perks. When you only get to see your grandbaby three or four times a year, you’re a little blinded by love and adoration. And — isn’t it always the case? — Indy is on his best behaviour when mom and dad aren’t around.
Halfway through our vacation, as I write this, I have decided to reframe how I’m thinking about this trip. It may not be the most relaxing vacation. But there will be great moments with Indy. There will be reprieve (when we head to Ottawa overnight babyfree to visit friends). And there will be our wonderful, wilful toddler testing our resolve from morning till night.
We can handle it all, I’m sure. Just don’t ask me about the flight back.