B and I fancy ourselves travelers, whether or not we’re actually good at it. We’ve circled the globe, but our packing skills are still lacking. Last year was the most travel-packed year ever, with trips from Korea to France to Iceland to Memphis to northern California and finally to North Carolina, although that last leg was to move so it doesn’t really count. The presence of a U-Haul doesn’t exactly read “fun” or “cultured.” I also wish I could count our layover in Moscow because the whole surreal ordeal of being manhandled by some buxom Russian women in customs and then loitering in an eerily deserted terminal for four hours counts for something. I’ve been to Russia, dammit.
Since having Miss C almost three months ago, we’ve been strapped not only to our town but almost exclusively to our home. In my mind it’s simply not worth it to schlep her and all her 350 pieces of baby equipment out just yet. My friend Kendra and I took her to Target and Subway when she was about six weeks old and it was decidedly NOT FUN. She was super gassy that day and screamed bloody murder the entire time. So our family excursions have been mostly limited to visits to the pediatrician.
All this will change this weekend. We are going to Florida.
It will take two days. We are driving, not flying.
“It’s not the destination, it’s the process of getting there that makes life worth it.” Erm, really? I highly doubt that. Sanibel Island is the big ol’ carrot at the end of this gauntlet we have in front of us. My mechanism as of yet is to be as pessimistic as possibly about this drive, because if my expectations are low then I’ll be less likely to want to stuff cotton in my ears should C decide to cry the entire way.
To be fair, though, I have to admit that Miss C is an extremely pleasant baby. She only pulls out the red-faced, arm-flailing, OMG-I-am-dying cries when she’s gassy. And can you blame her? Tooting hurts. We even took her on a practice trip to Raleigh – about an hour and a half away – a couple weekends ago and she did great. She only got fussy in the last 45 minutes of our drive home, and I blame that on her subconsciously knowing that we were distancing ourselves from Whole Foods, where she heartily enjoyed looking at a wall of Cliff Bars for 10 minutes.
So we are going. Packing for this excursion will be a thrill. Luckily, the resort where we’re staying with B’s mom and nephew has laundry facilities so we won’t have to bring every scrap of clothing Miss C owns. She will likely be topless this entire vacation if it helps me avoid doing extra loads. We’re also reverting to disposable diapers for the trip because nothing says “vacation” like not having to handle peed-upon diapers.
I am happily crowd-sourcing this one: any advice to dole out to us about traveling with an infant? We are keeping both legs of the drive (what we consider) reasonable: eight hours each day (the GPS calculates the drive at six hours per leg but we’re assuming it will likely be closer to eight with the baby). We’re bringing the Pack And Play and her portable Rock ‘N Play. We’re still undecided about whether to bring the stroller; it seems a lot easier to just bring her carseat and her Bjorn, since there will always be three adults to hold her.
So tell me what to do. I trust you, Internet people.