How to Travel with a Toddler : Tag Team

Two parents, one toddler. The kind of ratio that some traveling moms can only DREAM about. Someone to take the kid, run them off in one direction, while the other parent takes a breather, a calm moment in a sea of chaos.

One would imagine anyway.

So we just got back from our summer vacation in Texas. Yes I know you ask, "Who goes to TEXAS in September?" and honestly, I asked the same question. 

The hottest summer on record.
The most extreme drought they've ever seen.
Lake levels so low we couldn't even get the boat in.
Good times.

Ironically, it was great. Yes it was blisteringly, face meltingly hot there, but everyone has air conditioning and you don't have to go outside except to go into the pool. We spent a great time with good friends and their one year old, in a house that could only be described as, well, massive. We had our own wing, which was pretty impressive. There were no maids or help to cater to my every whim, so it did fall short there, but still, always fun to stay in a mansion.

The only real snag in the whole vacation was traveling back home. My perfect angel of a child decided to up the ante on this whole terrible two nonsense and made the trip a living hell, complete with tantrums, screams, wet noodle body, threats, yelling "NO", and the like. It was traumatizing to say the least and there were TWO of us!!

I almost believe that it is easier when it's just me, because I'm such a b**** about being focused and following directions and not running off, that he really doesn't step out of line too often. This time around? Pain. Ful.

My only advice to parents is to stay firm and do NOT give in to the tyrant. I may have looked like a total fool as I wrestled the monster into a chair, holding two heavy bags, while the husband ran to the plane with the carseat/stroller/more bags, but by god that kid was getting a timeout. I saw the looks of pity/shock/horror on people's faces as I grabbed him by the arm, off the floor, while he screaaaaamed bloody murder and I whispered threats in his ears. I guarantee you that numerous couples in that airport decided to start taking their birth control again.

But, like turning off a lightbulb, we boarded the plane, plunked him in his car seat and he was out. Zonked for at least 2 hours, exhausted by the "excitement" and "thrill" of the day. I was out too, emotionally drained from the effort it took not to kill the little shit.

We made it home in one piece, without any more tantrums or threats of bodily injury. The only snag of the day was when my husband looked at me on the ride home, haggard and exhausted and ready for a bottle or two of wine and said "Did we remember to get the IPad off the plane?".

*bangs head on dashboard*

Shit.

Plotting my demise




**On a side note, we did leave the IPad on the airplane, but because Southwest is SO awesome, it was in Brian's box at work the next day. PHEW**

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