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Back to Gestin's resume.
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TRAVEL-TRAINING TOTS
By airplane or car, a trip with small
children requires proper preparation and ample supplies of necessities,
including toys, games and food
July 30, 1997
By Gestin
Suttle, Sandy Dunham and Barbara Clements
The News Tribune
This article was written by Gestin Suttle, Sandy
Dunham and Barbara Clements, three members of the newsroom's Central Team who
sit by each other and talk about their children ad nauseum. The accompanying box
was written by Rosario Daza and Kim Eckart, two nonparental Central Team
reporters who sit so close by that they can't avoid listening to the moms. When
you're traveling with a toddler, you tend to grasp at the tiniest of triumphs:
* After 2,030 experiments, the airline tray table in the seat in front of your
child will still close and lock in its original upright position.
* After 2,030 experiments on the tray table in the back of her seat, the
passenger in front of your child did not demand he be deplaned midair.
* After half a day, your car -- and family -- is stained with juice, banana, Pop
Tart innards and Cheetos dust, but no bodily fluids. And the theme from
"Hercules" actually fades from memory after a few days with the in-laws.
Sometimes, too, there'll be a Big Moment. Sometimes, as you droopily stoop,
waiting to deplane, someone will say, "A baby?!? He's 2?! I didn't even know he
was there!"
Truly, a moment to savor. But not, necessarily, a moment from which to learn.
That's because, we've found, traveling with a toddler is never the same
experience twice. What works to soothe and occupy a 1-year-old is a world apart
from an adventure with a Terrible Twoster. And both are vastly different from
travel with a newborn (feed, nap, change, repeat).
Trouble is, most family-trip advice we've seen seems to target "kids under 5"
or, even worse, "children."
So we've devised our own toddler-age-specific tips.
Below is a sampling of what has worked for three moms of kids on the go.
Cameron, age 1 1/2
Travel log: Cameron's first journey since his trip down the birth canal was a
doozie: a six-hour, trans-Pacific voyage in a jam-packed DC-10 from SeaTac to
Hawaii to meet his maternal grandmother, auntie and other relatives. So this
energetic toddler's parents braced for the worst. Good thing, too. It was nearly
as bad as we'd imagined.
At this age: It took Cameron a year to learn how to walk. Why on earth would he
want to sit still after only six months of practicing?
Travel challenge: convincing the tot that it's fun to sit still,
What worked: Toys, toys and more toys. Toys with buttons. Toys that made noise.
Toys that were new.
The key here is getting toys he's never seen before. Several weeks before the
trip, we began stocking up on stickers, play telephones that beep and make
music, and dolls with bendable arms. He also had stuffed animals that made noise
when you squeeze them.
When Cameron lost interest with one toy, it would go in a big tote bag and we'd
fish out a new one. This way, there was a better chance that the toy he got
bored with would again be fun in an hour.
When toys no longer held his attention, we walked up and down the aisle with him
a few times. Just enough to stretch his legs.
When all of that lost effectiveness, we resorted to food. We brought several
boxes of his favorite snack: raisins. We also brought peanut butter and jelly
sandwiches, crackers and other snacks. Don't count on getting enough to eat from
the airline.
It also helps to get window seats behind a bulkhead, if possible. We got this on
the flight back, and made a little playpen for Cameron on the floor between our
legs and the wall.
Challenge: getting him to sleep on the flight.
What worked: Nothing. At least not on the way to Hawaii. We did get him to sleep
on the way back.
He was just too keyed up to sleep on the afternoon flight over, even though he
was long overdue for a nap. He was even doing head bobs at one point but refused
to shut his eyes. So don't count on your child sleeping on the flight.
Cameron did sleep on the way back. We think it's because this was a night
flight. He fought it, but after an hour or so, he gave up and slept the rest of
the way.
Challenge: ear pain.
What worked: We brought several empty bottles and boxes of milk. The sucking
action keeps the ears open. The boxed milk was perfect, because we didn't rely
on the airlines to supply us with his favorite drink. Good thing, too, because
the airliner ran out of milk before we landed.
Most grocery stores carry milk that comes in small cartons, which do not need to
be refrigerated. There are also toddler formulas available in pop-top cans and
boxes. If your tot prefers juice, there is a variety to choose from.
The care we took in deciding when to give Cameron his bottle was like NASA
engineers timing a space shuttle liftoff. We didn't give him anything to drink
an hour before the flight, so he'd be sure to take the bottle when he needed to.
Then, we prepared the drink just before taking off, waiting to give it to him
until we were actually starting down the runway. The timing was critical: He
finished the bottle before we fully ascended. Luckily, the worst part was over
and he didn't complain a bit about his ears. But if we had given him the bottle
just a minute earlier, he would have finished too soon and suffered extreme
pain, we're sure.
Carson, age 2 1/2
Travel log: Carson soared the friendly skies for the first time at 7 weeks of
age. It was a breeze. It has since grown more complicated.
Since he's turned 2, Carson has flown on two layover trips (to Kansas City for
Thanksgiving and to Des Moines, Iowa, to see Mom's best friend), one circular
route (to Minneapolis to see one set of grandparents, then to Detroit for the
other, then home) and taken a few three-to-four-hour car rides.
At this age: He's incredibly verbal and proud of it. He's actually quite
reasonable and attentive although prone to bouts of ... um, excessiveness when
overtired.
Challenge: keeping a routine through time zones and delays.
What worked: Although you can't rely on it, we still plan our flights around
naptime. It looked as if our last trip would work beautifully because 1) we had
to get up earlier than normal and 2) we actually took off on time. Sure enough,
Carson dozed right on schedule. Until the boisterous flight attendant announced
the arrival of our crispy-foil-wrapped gourmet sandwich. Carson was intrigued
enough (we're guessing by the crackling foil, not the tempting smell) to awaken
- but not to eat - only 30 minutes after nodding off.
Luckily, we had an extra three hours of circling southwest Minnesota thanks to
an approaching thunderstorm. It bored him back to sleep.
Unluckily, we had an extra three hours of circling southwest Minnesota, and the
gourmet sandwich was long gone. This lurched us into dinnertime, so we grabbed
Carson a Happy Meal at the airport as soon as we landed, and he ate it in the
car.
Once in a new time zone, we basically threw bedtimes out the window. If Carson
was tired, we let him sleep, even if it was only 6 p.m. Tacoma time. Same with
eating. He was running on Midwest time in a day.
Challenge: confinement to a car seat for hours on end.
What worked: Each of Carson's three-hours-minimum plane ride has been followed
by a one-hour-minimum car ride. Though, technically, Carson could go
car-seat-less on the plane (and though every flight we've been on has thrown
some sort of little fit about us lugging our car seat aboard), we simply would
not make it without one.
Not only does it keep him (safely) in his plane seat, but it's familiar, and
much less tempting to undo.
We took frequent breaks "to stretch our legs," careful to accompany him down the
aisle and keep his dancing fingers from bonking our fellow passengers. This also
afforded Carson a happy chance to try out his potty skills on the cool
blue-water toilet (though the fierce flushing can be frightening).
Once in the car, we stressed the time element ("Only 15 more minutes!") and
relied on well-prepared grandparents for new diversions.
Challenge: those pesky ears.
What worked: When he was tiny, Carson was quickly comforted by a breast, then a
binky, then a bottle.
Last year, he focused on helping his sweet, cuddly Teddy's ears get better. We
thought that'd work this time, too - only on his big, burly Batman pillow.
Nope.
So after a bit of whiny half-cries (on his part), I tried rubbing his ears.
Then, in a move borne out of giddiness, desperation and the realization he's a
big boy now, I did the thumb-between-the-fingers routine, pretending his ears
came off in my hand.
He laughed himself cured.
Jennifer, age 3 1/2
Travel log: In her short life, Jennifer has been to grandma's in Montana four
times via a 12-hour car ride. She's gone to Vancouver, B.C., by car at 6 weeks
(big mistake); an eight-hour flight (counting layovers) to Washington D.C., at 6
months. At 1 year old, she flew five long hours on a plane to Hawaii and back
and has logged at least one flight to California. Just this year she went on a
weeklong road trip along the Oregon coast.
At this age: She can amuse herself. She's quite articulate and will ask
questions - "Why?" is still a favorite - about all things she sees out the
window or about the passenger sitting next to you. Her attention span has
increased from nonexistent to where she can focus on a tape or game for about 30
minutes.
Challenge: keeping her amused on long car trips.
What worked: Games, games and more games. And they don't have to be games that
would get you a membership in Mensa. Her favorite this summer, while on that
two-day jog back to grandma in Montana, was spotting an animal, usually a horse
or a cow, out the car window and making that sound with Mom and Dad. She also
likes to have someone read stories to her, usually the same ones over and over
and over.
By this age, she has memorized the books, so it's hard to cheat and skip a few
lines of "Green Eggs and Ham." I tried. No luck.
Jennifer liked to listen to tapes of Disney songs or Disney stories, over and
over and over. "Hercules" was her favorite this year. It was a tape that
included a book to read. By the end of the trip, I knew the Herc story about as
well as Green Eggs.
Buying new toys and stuffing them into a bag she doesn't see until she's on the
road works. But a word of advice: Do not bring your child along with you to buy
the toys. She'll want to come. Tell her "no."
Before Jennifer and I went to Target I carefully explained these were NOT toys
for playing with now, but in a few days. She nodded agreeably.
Once we were out in the parking lot, she insisted on opening the toys.
"For the road, remember," I said.
She didn't even blink.
"We are on the road," she said, pointing to the asphalt in the parking lot.
Also, trade off with your husband or traveling companion for Entertainment
Director job. My husband has managed to skip this task for four years now. I
tell him it's not going to happen next summer. He just smirks.
Challenge: toddlers and taxis.
What worked: It was late and rainy when my mother and I arrived at Dulles
Airport in Washington, D.C. Jennifer had collapsed in her car seat, which we had
dutifully packed on the plane, through the baggage claim and now, Jennifer was
sleeping beside a pile of three suitcases on the curb.
Finally, a taxi pulled up. A courteous man motioned us into the back. It's then
we noticed there were no seat belts. Not for us, not for the car seat.
We tried explaining the importance of seat belts to our driver, but he just kept
looking at as and pointing at the meter.
The pantomime on both sides wasn't working.
We considered. Do we opt out and hope for another cab? Or do we hold on? After
travelling all day, we opted for the hold-on-and-pray method. Were we to do it
again, we'd probably check for seat belts before the cab pulled up, or simply
rent a car and brave the Beltway on our own.
Challenge: potty breaks on long trips.
What worked: Stop early, stop often and stop even if no one says she has to use
the toilet.
If there's one thing that's changed my husband's driving habits, it's been
having a child along.
Pre-baby, Gary employed the "drive 'til you drop" method. I hear his dad was the
same way. Once Jennifer arrived, that all changed. As a baby, she could scream
louder than any of us and orally bullied Dad into stopping the car - now - for a
break.
After potty training, she can still scream louder than either of us, but doesn't
have to. In her tiny voice, she can simply say, "I have to go, now." and Gary
quickly starts pulling over, now.
If you see a rest stop, pull in no matter what. Chances are that if you pass it
up, about a mile down the road, that small voice in the back will announce, "I
have to go pee-pee, Mom, real bad."
SIDEBAR (by Rosario Daza and Kim Eckart)
Please, keep that brat out of my hair
Junior may be taking a big trip, but so are 100 other people on the plane. And
the ones sitting next to and around him - especially those who don't have or
(gasp!) even like children - may not appreciate his giggles, his games, his
squirms and his squeals.
In other words, what's familiar, routine or cute to you may not be to your
seatmate. Please, from those of us who enjoy peaceful trips, keep us in mind.
We're not asking to duct-tape your youngster's mouth. We're asking for some
courtesy. Folks who respond to your child are one thing. Folks who don't respond
probably don't want to.
Some tales from the front - make that the back, side or even 20 rows away:
* "Hi!" The child hangs over the seat in front of you, next to you, or across
the aisle perhaps, and bids you hello every five seconds. One greeting is fine,
two sweet. After the third, it's clear the two of you have acknowledged each
other and should move on, or bid "Goodbye!"
* Play with me! (See above reference for "Hi!") This gambit includes making
goofy faces, pretending to be an animal (barking and meowing are popular and,
apparently, the most fun) and hiding behind a chair, a parent, a hand - whatever
the child thinks might make her invisible. A tip: Mom may be proud she can play
peek-a-boo for hours, but we're not impressed by her staying power.
* Crying and screaming. This is the top travel trauma for the childless or
child-phobic. You, the parent, are used to the noise. Others on the plane are
not. It's a cramped and crowded space already - and you'll be sharing it for
hours. The last thing anyone (and admit, Mom and Dad, you too) wants to hear is
loud sobbing or a shrill "NOOOO!!" Frequent travelers should whip out a portable
radio at this point (who cares if it's against federal regulations) or pop some
aspirin.
* Going to the bathroom. Sounds strange, but it's perhaps the one routine most
unfamiliar to those without children. Little Johnny or Janie not only seems to
have get up to waddle to the bathroom every 10 minutes, but the little tyke
can't resist talking about it, either. The quality or quantity of Junior's "poo-poo"
or "pee-pee" is of NO INTEREST to the rest of the passengers.
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