Traveling with a little one is so fun. And I won't lie -- it's also very much like punching yourself in the face. Repeatedly. To those parents who have the whole "traveling with babies" thing down pat, I'm in awe of you. Traveling with babies seems to be one of the stages I never mastered, but just made it through...
I remember the summer before we found out we were pregnant with O, John and I sat on the beach in Southern California, and for the first time *sat on the beach* and watched as our kids played on the shore. Our days of scrambling around the beach after little ones, fishing out a combination of sand, shells and/or trash from their mouths was over.
Of course we knew that would change when we had O. And in fact we have not traveled since -- until this week for our little mini Spring Break getaway. I was a little nervous because I knew all my hard-won progress with naps and schedules and the like would go out the window when we went on a trip. And that was the case for sure. The first day was tough. Owen slept in his special portable crib (that I painstakingly tried to make as similar to his crib at home as possible) for all of two hours. After that, he wouldn't go back to sleep until I put him in bed between me and John. Then he was happy as a clam, snuggled warmly next to me while I was left with a half foot wedge of the bed that I tried to side-lie in, with one arm tucked under my body and the other arm shoved awkwardly under the pillow. Same was true for John. Neither of us slept. We were exhausted.
But it was wonderful nonetheless. We had a picnic on the cliffs of Lime Kiln -- one of the single most beautiful places in the world. We played cards into the night, made s'mores, went on walking adventures, and explored. I know this time when the girls are "kids" are numbered. I am so glad we had the chance to have a little adventure. Though it was challenging, it made me happy.
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