Vacations with kids are like vacations from sanity.

We went on a mini vacation for Canada Day. June was a painfully busy month for us, with something happening every weekend that meant we didn't get to spend any Saturdays together as a family and Sundays are always busy. We were tired, forgetting what it meant to spend proper time together without other commitments, and I was looking forward to napping on our 7 1/2 hour car ride to Edmonton to visit Larissa's family. Somehow I always forget that children don't like to nap in the car as much as I do.

Last week Parker skipped a nap and I almost kicked him out of the house. I contemplated going back to work then and there. Sorry, Molly, maternity leave is getting cut short. He napped the next day, though, so I forgave him and gave him a terrible haircut instead. I didn't mean to, it just sort of happened and, really, I'm punishing myself more than anything. I'm the one that has to look at him all the time.

When we left Friday morning we got the kids up an hour early so we could make it to the doughnut shop in Edmonton before they closed. Naturally that led to two overtired children that screamed for a solid hour before our first stop. One would start to calm down just in time for the other to start up and they'd feed off each other's cries. Nothing gets your heart rate going in the morning quite like two kids having a scream-off.

We had a great time with our friends, having one last Alberta hoorah before they move next week. We ate doughnuts, went to the zoo, visited IKEA, and played games. It was wonderful, with one small exception that's about two and a half feet tall and suffers from some serious bedtime FOMO.

At home Parker doesn't always want to go to bed at designated sleep times. I get it, I'm a lot of fun to hang out with and he just wants to keep the party going. Unfortunately for him, I take sleep very seriously. Very, very seriously. This sometimes leads to him resisting sleep times and me walking away with my figurative fingers in the air to have my own party without him. Basically what I'm saying is, Parker screams and for the most part I just let him.

While we were away, Parker decided he didn't want to nap. Forget that he hadn't gotten much sleep on our way there, he just really didn't want to miss the fun party. On Saturday, the day he walked around the entire Edmonton Zoo, we eventually we got tired of his screaming and let him skip his nap.

That night, he raged a bit at bedtime but went down relatively easy. I tiptoed downstairs to check on him and Molly and stepped on a noisy toy. There is nothing more heart-stopping than trying to spy on your freshly sleeping child and having animal noises come from the vicinity of your feet. When I picked up the toy I set it off again. I hustled as quietly as possible out of the room to get rid of the offending so I could try one last time to look at the kids. I put the toy down on the chest freezer only to have it slide off and start making noise again the moment I opened the door to sneak back in. At that point I gave up. Either the kids were asleep or dead because they didn't react and it was out of my hands anyway.

The next day we tricked him and did some driving around right at nap time. He slept for 45 minutes in the car. Not great, but better than nothing. We figured he'd sleep like a boss that night. We were so very wrong.

On our last night there Parker decided he was done with the playpen. So done, in fact, that he taught himself to climb out of it and stand, screaming, at the door to the room he was sleeping in (the living space of our friends' vacant suite). He's a resourceful child so he managed to lock himself in a couple times, but thankfully there was a spare key. It funny and sad all at once when your tired but raging child keeps locking himself in a room he's trying desperately to escape from.

I was not ready for the stress of a rabid toddler. Hell hath no fury like the uncaged two year old that knows you're hanging out without him. I won't go into all the details, lest you think I'm a really terrible parent, but I'll just say that nothing we did could soothe him or coax him to sleep. After three hours of his raging (I cringe just remembering it) he didn't pass out in front of the door, so we gave in. I, like the United States of America, have a policy not to give into terrorists but I would like to see any president, past or present, stand up to my son longer than I did. 

We brought him upstairs to happily terrorize our card game. Eventually I ran out of steam and we all went to bed. And when I say "we all" I'm obviously not including Parker in that because it was only 11:30. Karl let me sleep (or try to) while Parker played in the main room and he lay on the couch. Finally, at 1 a.m. Parker literally fell over and passed out. Only, of course, to climb out of his playpen at 7 a,m, and scream at me through our closed door.

I decided we were never taking him anywhere again, at least not until he was out of his crib in 3 - 4 years. Then I remembered that we've got plans for a month and a half from now. As tempted as I was to cancel all future holidays with children, someone reminded me that sleep sacks are great containment devices. 

I was desperately hoping that Mr Playpen Houdini wouldn't use his newfound skills to ruin my life at home but, sure enough, Monday night he got out of his crib shortly after I put him to bed. 

I didn't cry, I just shoved him in a sleep sack, sent Karl to the store to buy more, and have since invested in stocks in them. I'm happy to say that Parker is now lovingly contained in a pink floral Aden & Anaias number because that's all they had at the store. It certainly brings out his eyes, though.

Parker also picked a great time to need to sleep in a blanket bag because our air conditioner died on Monday and our house is hotter than the face of the sun. But he's still in his crib and that's all that really matters.

And I always thought I was Phoebe.

I used to think that meal planning was something for other people to do. I was too good for it. Then I realized that meal planning is not actually a big deal, and just involves three to five minutes of sitting at the table before we go to the grocery store asking Karl what he wants to eat this week. My descent into adulthood is well on its way.

I heard myself tell Karl yesterday that Parker would be around to play with tomorrow, but the kitchen wasn't going to clean itself tonight. I know, I should get a freaking mom of the year crown. At least my kitchen's clean.

My blissful four day vacation back home wasn't nearly as relaxing as I envisioned, but it was still lovely. I crammed so much Christmas shopping, eating, visiting, and baby snuggling into those four days that it made up for the lack of downtime. I had a delusion that I would go for coffee (hot chocolate) with my book and just spend a couple hours in a coffee shop, alone, relaxed, at peace. Then when it came time for it, I had to decide on a solo trip or taking that drink to go and walking along the water with my parents. I can be alone at home, but the ocean and my parents don't come to Regina very often. And if Game of Thrones has taught us anything, it's that we really don't want the ocean coming to our landlocked homes.

I also enjoyed the now unfamiliar luxury of flying alone. The last time I took an airplane by myself was nearly three years ago, during the interview process for the job that brought us to Saskatchewan. This was much more relaxing. I had a giant bag of sweet and sour Skittles (my new favourite candy in the whole entire world) to keep me company and awake several hours past my bedtime. That and the very near presence of my seat mates on the teeny tiny plane. Our thighs touched regularly. It was not magical.

While I was gone Karl informed me that Parker was sleeping in at least an hour every day. I'm not sure how, but my son has gone from toddler to teenager over night. He slept 14 hours Sunday/Monday. This is not remotely normal, but considering my flight got in at 1 a.m., I got home at 2 a.m., and I couldn't fall asleep until 4 a.m. (WHYYY?), I fully embraced it. Sometimes you don't have to understand something to know that it's magic. Don't question magic.

Today I realized I had made a significant miscalculation and will not, in fact, have enough hours for my maternity leave. I almost had a panic attack. There were nearly tears. I had visions of myself dressed up as a pregnant elf at the mall, herding children onto Santa's lap to make my few remaining hours. Thankfully, my boss is amazing and going to let me put in extra hours (even though I'm not busy) to hit my goal. I will be bringing cookies into the office every day from now until the end of December to show my appreciation.

I am 90% done my Christmas shopping. All I have left to do is get Karl something, figure out stocking stuffers, and pop our Christmas cards and a couple packages in the mail. This is what happens when you see your family over a month before Christmas and won't again until February. I feel like such a Monica. It's terrifying being so on top of things, but also incredibly empowering. If I can conquer Christmas shopping over a month early, what else can I do? Make it through an entire episode of Call The Midwife without weeping? Look out, world, I'm coming for you.

Left. Right. Left.

We celebrated Thanksgiving this weekend and it was marvelous. Except that half the people at supper on Sunday were sick Monday and it snowed all weekend, but aside from that it was fantastic. The family and I drove to Edmonton where we stayed with friends and played games, ate dairy-free doughnuts, hit up IKEA, crafted with yarn scraps, and had a fabulous mom date that involved Starbucks, H&M, a children's consignment store, and two thrift stores. And then we ate turkey and it was good.

Parker and I flew home Monday. It was a bold move considering how well things went last time, but only involved 90 minutes of two children compressing my bladder instead of 7 1/2 hours in the car with just one kicking my insides. Let's just say, things went better, but I still had flashbacks. I also may have had to use the airplane bathroom on our 90 minute flight. It wasn't actually that bad, seeing as teeny tiny spaces don't really leave anywhere for crazy toddlers to go. I felt pretty accomplished and am surprised no one clapped and cheered when I walked back to my seat. I am Super Mom with an incredibly small bladder.

Parker stayed true to form and passed out with 20 minutes left in the flight.

When we got home I dropped Parker off at the neighbours' so I could run to the grocery store. It was snowing, I needed to install his car seat, and he'd already had a long day of travelling. I figured playing with other children would be more fun than picking out bananas. When I got back they were feeding him supper. When we move I'm taking them with us. I love them.

Normally Karl runs the bath time show while I clean the kitchen. Karl wasn't around, though, so it was up to me. I decided it would be the perfect time to introduce Parker to his first bubble bath. He didn't understand at first, then loved it. He also kept trying to put the bubbles in his eyes. The whole lavender scented experience was so relaxing for him, in fact, that he decided to just let it all out. In the poop department. I'm so #blessed.

This morning Parker woke up an hour early and decided to chase me around the house whining all morning. I was so excited to drop him off at daycare and escape to work that I put my boots on the wrong feet. I noticed two hours later after I'd taken my wrong footed feet to daycare, Starbucks (because the sun wasn't even up when Parker was), and around my office for two hours. I miss coffee.

We have our small group tonight, so my friend that watches Parker/is the pastor's wife/hosts small group told me I should just leave him there after work and take a couple hours to myself before coming over for dinner. I love her, too. Maybe she noticed my boots and didn't tell me.

Flying with a toddler.

Last year I rocked your world with some tips on flying with a baby. This year I thought I'd give you a couple helpful updates for the not-so-baby in your life.

We just got back from a week in southern Ontario and, while Parker did really well while we were there, it didn't matter what time our flights were at or how tired he was, that child fought sleeping on the airplane like he was the one flying it.

When it comes to flying with a toddler, the best advice I can give you is simple: Don't.

Instead of booking expensive airplane tickets, I recommend instead investing in transporter technology for those distances that are just too far to drive. Surely Gene Roddenberry was on to something way back in the day. We're sending people to Mars so I think we're clearly moments away from molecular transportation. Get on it, people, and do us all the favour of never having to get on an airplane with an over-tired toddler again.

When life hands you doughnuts you eat them.

Parker and I drove seven and a half hours to Edmonton by ourselves last week. You may think I'm brave for road tripping with a baby by myself, but really I'm just reckless. I also needed a vacation. Having that long to just focus on the road and listen to an audiobook was actually very therapeutic. So were the hundreds of Skittles I ate.

We visited some dear friends and their trio of offspring and while I had a grand old time going to IKEA and eating dairy-free doughnuts from new favourite bakery, Parker found the whole thing to be a little much. I guess he's gotten used to the quiet life around here, and the energy of a preschooler and toddler kind of got to him. But the friend time, chunky baby snuggles, and baked goods more than made up for it. I didn't cry once!

There's a reason the Jews are God's chosen people, and I think it's because of these kosher and dairy-free beauties right here.

My dad flew into Edmonton and drove back to Regina with us. The drive out was uneventful, but the partied out baby certainly appreciated the grandfatherly distraction on the way home. And I did, too. There's only so much crying and whining one person can take before they're wishing they'd bought a dozen more doughnuts. And since Parker isn't allowed to eat doughnuts anyway, Grandpa really helped fill their void.

We put my dad back on a plane this morning and I decided that today was going to be another write off. Not in the sense that February 29th was, but in the sense that I needed to catch up on the Downton finale (I laughed, I cried, I cheered) and some other shows in my leggings all day while eating the random things I found in my fridge. The dishes and laundry will wait until tomorrow while Parker and I recover from a highly delightful week and a half of interacting with people all day every day. Even though I'm 51% introvert and 49% extrovert (or so the tests tell me), the introvert has definitely been feeling rejected and has taken over today.

Parker is getting very old all of a sudden. Someone asked me at church if I was back at work yet and I almost threw up on them. Ten more weeks to go and I will be. Ten weeks and I will have an official toddler. One that can't toddle to save his life but will, in all likelihood, be crawling within the hour. One that moved out of his bucket car seat this week and into a real big boy car seat and loves it.* Even though he hasn't actually watched any Star Trek or Firefly yet so he has no reference point, I'm fairly certain Parker thinks he's a spaceship captain in that seat. The way he puts his arms on the sides and sits there like a boss, you can tell he thinks he's the one running the (rear facing) show.

I realized yesterday that my time to hammer out those maternity leave projects I've been meaning to do is quickly coming to an end. Let's not dwell on it too much, but I see a lot of painting in my future. A LOT. Good thing my wrist is getting better and I've got some good audiobooks on hold at the library.

Right now, though, it's snowing,and my son is practicing his forward motion on the floor so I'm just going to soak it all up while I can and take a million videos of him, while eating leftovers for dinner.


*You know you're a mom when you start saying horrible things like "big boy car seat" and you get excited about things like standing in line for children's consignment sales. A couple weeks ago I stood outside in the freezing cold for an hour just to buy used onesies and board books. I brought coffee and friends and everything. A year ago I scoffed at the very thought.

First post of 2016. I talk about poop.

A month or so ago I saw something on Pinterest talking about how to potty train your baby. I scoffed at it because it seemed like an absurd waste of time. Who wants to spend their days holding a grunty baby over a toilet? Do you know how often babies do their business? All. the. freaking. time. I figured diapers weren't that bad in exchange for some independence.

Well. Now that Parker's more interested in solid foods (and trying to jam the spoon as far down his throat as possible) I have changed my story. I've decided that the whole "food before one is just for fun" line is a load of b.s. There is nothing fun about what happens to that food. With out next kid, I'm going to breastfeed exclusively until potty training is done. You can say that's weird, but I would so much rather have a two year old hanging off my chest than deal with that diaper. That mom that potty trained her newborn clearly knew her shiz.

On that note, we had a lovely Christmas. Flying with Parker was a bit harder this time because he seems to know when we have to get up early and adheres to the teenager's logic of "Why even bother going to be bed?" I also, foolishly, thought that taking him on a 6:30 a.m. flight would mean he'd sleep through the whole thing because that's his normal sleeping time. Don't make the same mistake I did. It wasn't too bad, especially since airplanes are full of babies at Christmas, but we did have to have a little chat with our screaming, over-tired baby on the second flight of the day. I like to think the passengers around us appreciated our magnificent parenting style of telling Parker that no one on the plane liked him and that he should probably just be quiet. WestJet will be sending us our parents of the year award shortly.

We painted our living room last weekend and it wasn't as hard on our marriage as I anticipated. The hardest part for me was living in a mess. We didn't live in squalor before Parker was born, but our house was never this consistently tidy before. That's what Saturdays were for! Going back to work in a few months will probably kill me. I hope Parker's figured out how to work a vacuum by then.

There's an extreme cold warning for the city tomorrow. Naturally, I made Oreo ice cream today. It's hard to believe it's -30 out when you're at home in your sweatpants all day. Instead of doing the rational thing and hibernating tomorrow, we've decided to abandon Parker with some friends and go to the movies. You just can't beat going to the movies in the middle of the day.

I finished watching Gilmore Girls last week. It was an emotional time and, even though I'd seen bits and pieces of it over the years, I never actually saw most of the last season because it came on at 10 and I got off work at 10:10 back then. Memories. They ended it so well, though, and I may have cried a little. I'm now very, very excited about what they come out with next. All I can say is, I hope Jess has sorted himself out and that I don't think I'll take much parenting advice from Lorelai.

You wouldn't think Fridays would be so magical, staying home all the time, but they really are. In my great attempts to not eat junk throughout the week five p.m. on a Friday really means something, especially with the teething that's been going on around here. I find that ice cream and Kahlua really help take the sting away.

The west coast, in brief.

We/ve been home from vacation for a couple weeks. Last year when we came back from our west coast holiday I cried as soon as we got to Regina. This year I fist pumped. After three weeks away, Parker and I were ready to sleep in our own beds, watch our own TV, and roll around on our own floor. The second we got him in the house we plopped him down on his mat and he told his blue monkey all about his wonderful adventures. And what wonderful adventures they were.

Parker was champ while we were away. We only had a one hour time difference, so it wasn't hard to push his bedtime back an hour. We finally figured out how to breastfeed in public without flashing everyone so we spent a ton of time outside of the house, visiting, socializing, drinking coffee, and making new friends (Parker did, anyway).

Parker also learned to love his car seat. It was a milestone for us and made going out all the time much less traumatic. Except for the last 50 km outside of Kamloops on the drive home where he had the biggest meltdowns of his life on the side of the highway. It was fine, though, because we just walked the last 14,000 km home.

I'm pretty sure Parker met more people in those three weeks than he had in his entire life. In true form, he practiced judging each and every one of them.

We went for walks and drives and ate more sushi than I've ever had in my entire life. It was amazing. I was so happy to introduce Parker to his ancestral homeland.

We dipped his feet in the ocean and he didn't even scream, he just took it like a boss. You'd never guess the kid was born in a canola field instead of on the island.

Or, I don't know, maybe you would...

Flying with a baby.

Three weeks ago, Parker and I flew from Regina to Victoria via Calgary. That's three hours of air time and a 70 minute layover. I survived, thanks in large part to Michelle's plea for advice regarding travelling with a newborn and the resulting comments.

We all know I'm basically a genius when it comes to travelling, so I thought I would share some new, updated travel tips. You know, for when you're no longer able to fly solo and are in that new and glamorous stage of life that revolves around another person's bodily functions.

Be early. You'd think this would be a no-brainer, but I can't stress enough how important this is. I got to the airport just at the 45 minute cut-off and had to stand in line at security, wait for them to swab Parker's bottle to make sure it wasn't a bomb, and made it to the gate just as they were pre-boarding. Except I had to run to the bathroom and didn't have to time to fill up my water bottle so by the time that was said and done we just snuck on before everyone else.

I had really wanted to get there with enough time to do all those things, change Parker, and let him roll around on his blanket a bit to get the beans out. No dice.

Wear that baby. Your baby is your most important accessory when flying. Babies are wiggly worms, and while you can't have them in the carrier whenever the seatbelt sign is on, put that baby in a lightweight carrier and wear them. I think this is a bit of a no brainer, but the last thing you want to do is drop the baby when you're picking up your bag, fishing for your boarding pass, or maybe even holding a coffee?

I can go to the bathroom with Parker in the K'tan, but I didn't want to press my luck with him in the carrier in the airplane bathroom so I skipped the coffee. If it had been a longer flight, though, I probably would have just gone for it.

Pack light. Ish. Because I was flying solo with Parker I knew I would have to be prepared for whatever would happen. I flew with WestJet, and they are much more generous than Air Canada with what they'll check for free if you're flying with an infant. WestJet has also never booked my seat on the wing.

I packed my big duffle bag full of my stuff. I bought a $10 regulation sized carry-on off VarageSale and stuffed it to the max with Parker's things. I knew we'd be able to do laundry so I only brought him six sleepers, a couple of which fit him a little loosely. This was smart because he outgrew several things while we were there. I also brought him some little pants, shirts, socks, a cardigan, two rompers, and one hoodie. A swaddle sack, two swaddle blankets, a regular blanket, and my pump filled the rest of it up.

Because I could do laundry I probably didn't need to bring quite as much clothing for Parker and could have instead brought more burp cloths.

I opted to leave the stroller at home because we drove back and it takes up a lot of trunk space in my little car. I also didn't bring Parker's car seat because it would be a lot to carry and was just one more thing to break. When we fly at Christmas we'll be bringing the stroller for sure and possibly the car seat. Some friends loaned us everything we needed here (stroller, car seat, pack-n-play, play mat, even a swing if we want it).

I paid the $25 to check my bag, and was prepared to take my small suitcase and diaper bag with me on the plane. It was a lot, but I had a plan.

Ask nicely. When I checked my bag I asked if they wouldn't mind checking my little suitcase for free since I didn't have any of the other baby items with me, like a car seat, stroller, or pack-n-play that they would check for free (two of the three). Because WestJet loves me, they totally did it.

On our second flight I knew I would need to breastfeed, so I asked at the counter if it was possible to sit beside an empty seat. I ended up at the back of the plane next to the bathroom, which smelled terrible, but had a whole row to myself, with enough room to spread out.

Be prepared. This kind of flies in the face of packing light, but if you've ever spent fifteen minutes with an infant you'll understand. Because I'm regularly on the receiving end of any number of Parker's body fluids I took full advantage of my massive diaper bag. I packed myself an extra shirt, a cardigan, breast pads, a bottle in an insulated bottle bag, three soothers, wipes for the soothers when they hit the floor (which happened before we even left Regina), snacks, two burp cloths, diapers, wipes, a change pad, wet bag, extra pajamas for Parker, a swaddle blanket, nursing cover (no idea why, we never use the darn thing), plus my wallet, water bottle, hand lotion, and lip balm. My keys and sunglasses got put in with my checked luggage because that would just be excessive.

I never used any of the extra clothes or the swaddle blanket, but I was glad I had them. Because I had Parker in the K'tan I knew it was a very real possibility that I would get a milk bath, so I wore a shirt that does a good job of camouflaging the spit up. He never actually got me while in the carrier, but he did get me all the way down my back on our first flight. The lady next to me said you couldn't tell so I didn't bother changing and probably smelled like sour milk for the rest of the day.

I was glad I'd brought a bottle simply because there wasn't a lot of room on that first plane. Had I breastfed, Parker would have been kicking and possibly spraying milk on the poor woman next to me.

Be apologetic and make friends. Parker's a pretty good kid, but I wanted to nip any complaining in the bud, so I made sure to apologize in advance to everyone sitting around me if he cried. He didn't. He was so cute and charming, in fact, that my seatmate held him when I had to pick his soother up off the floor, and all the little old ladies getting off the plane asked if I needed a hand disembarking.

Babies sometimes get their own bathrooms. Find them. Love them. Calgary had a change room specifically for children and I nearly died with happiness when I saw it. It didn't have a toilet, which was a little disappointing, but I understand why. It was, however, the size of a regular bathroom, and I had enough room to spread everything out I needed and just breathe (but not too deeply), get my bearings, repack my diaper bag so that my snacks were back on top, and change the fullest diaper I have ever seen in my entire life.

Embrace the layover. I opted to choose flights with a layover just over an hour instead of a half hour. It was the perfect amount of time to hit the bathroom, change him, have a snack, and let him roll around for a bit.

Parker ended up flying like a champ. He loved looking around at all the new things, and he slept right through both takeoffs. The g-forces and noise lulled him right to sleep. He didn't sleep as long as I'd have liked, but when he woke up I fed him, changed him on our second flight (his favourite part for sure - hello, bathroom giggle fest!), and just looked around.

That night, though... Well. At least he didn't meltdown while we were travelling.

Next up: Road tripping with a baby: How to spend 17 hours in a car with your spouse in the backseat.

Travel tips from the pro.

So this is new and entirely different. I’ve been asked to write a post about my must-have travel essentials and travel tips by RelayRides, which sounds like the Airbnb of renting cars and seems like a neat idea. It’s the first time anyone outside of Russia has contacted me to do anything for them. At first I was a little hesitant because a) they’re not in Canada, b) I’ve never used them, and c) it’s free advertising for them because I'm in no way, shape, or form sponsored by them.

Still, is this what selling out feels like? They suggested I could make a mood board or something. I think I know what a mood board is, but I don’t have the first idea how to make one. Does it involve construction paper and scissors? Because my mood is now perplexed and I feel like that would involve a lot of purple construction paper.

Then I thought a little more about it and realized that I do have something to offer the world. I have some world-class travel tips that you might not read anywhere else. And by world class, I mean I travel through western Canada a lot. Name a city between here and Victoria and I’ve probably used the bathroom in their Tim Hortons. I like to think I know a thing or two.

Bring a water bottle. Whether you’re driving or flying, you need water. Less when you’re driving because of the whole pulling over to pee thing, and more when you’re flying because of the whole endless waits, inflated airport prices, and dry cabin air. Now, I love me a water bottle with a sippy  straw. The odds of me spilling all over myself are greatly reduced and even though I look like an oversized toddler it’s so much easier to drink, walk, and talk simultaneously.

 

There are two things you need to remember about those water bottles, though, when flying. First, dump it out before going through security. Try to bring a water bottle full of water through security at an airport and they’ll treat you like a terrorist. And by that I mean they’re going to confiscate your water bottle. Second, and most important, unhook the straw from the sippy part of the bottle. Why? Well, airplanes are pressurized and that translates into your water bottle become the Trevi Fountain when you open it. The Trevi Fountain all over you and potentially the people sitting behind you. FYI, the same thing goes for when you’re driving through the mountains. Take that straw out.

Push the limits with your carry-on luggage. When I travel it’s not to go on crazy mountain climbing adventures. It’s typically to visit family, friends, or Disneyland. Packing light is not a necessity. When we’re driving, Karl and I always bring our pillows. Because we’re better than everyone else’s pillows. Just kidding, ours are from Costco but they’re nicely conformed to the shapes of our heads. When flying, though, pillows get cut.

I bought a rolling suitcase this summer for my trip to Disneyland. I went to the store with tape measure in hand and the official allowances for what you’re allowed to carry on and you know what? It’s way more than you think. Those suitcases that get advertised as carry-on size are significantly smaller than they have to be. Is your mind being blown right now? Because mine was, that fateful day in Winners when I realized that. I left the store that day with a suitcase that is technically half an inch too big for carry-on but fits just fine in the Alaska Airlines carry-on police’s measuring device. Coincidentally, it didn’t fit as well in the Air Canada one four months later, but I think that’s because I over-stuffed it.

Another thing I’m not sure everyone knows is that you’re allowed to bring a carry-on piece of luggage and a personal item on the plane with you. A personal item is typically a purse or backpack sized item. I like to push that limit too, by using the biggest purse I have. You can’t tell me it’s too big because that lady has her dog and this is a purse. Oh, it’ll fit under the seat no problem. And if not, I hear they have extra room on the wing.

Check-in 24 hours early. I’ve mentioned this before, but I think it’s too good not to share. Airlines can be real jerks and tend to overbook planes. Because when you buy a ticket for an flight you’re not actually buying a seat, you’re just getting the honour of fighting someone for a seat. Thank God this isn’t Ryan Air, because someone might be on someone else’s lap if it were. No, you’ll just run the risk of getting bumped off your flight. But, and this is a big important but, if you are flexible and maybe didn’t really want to fly home that day anyway, by all means don’t check-in 24 hours in advance. You might get bumped. And if you’re flying with your spouse they can have the opportunity to get bumped if they don’t want to travel without you (which they don’t, obviously). And that can mean an impressive amount of travel vouchers coming your way. Hello, Hawaii. But, and this is another big one, there are no guarantees here. You might just end up sitting beside a stranger or possibly end up in some sort of airport purgatory. If you have any sense of adventure, though, I dare you to not check-in 24 hours in advance just to see what’ll happen.

Bring snacks. Airport food can be very hit or miss. I’ve been spending most of my time in the Regina, Victoria, Calgary, and Vancouver airports lately. Small airports like Regina and Victoria don’t have much to offer. Regina just has a pseudo-Tim Hortons, a convenience store, and a couple vending machines. Victoria has a bit more to offer, and Vancouver and Calgary both have the requisite Tim Hortons’ and a couple other options. I really appreciate the Booster Juice they have in the Calgary airport. It helps balance out all the Tim Hortons bagels.

If you have any kind of dietary restrictions (like me!) I recommend bringing your own food. Actually, unless you live and breathe Tim Hortons, I recommend bringing your own food. When travelling domestically, bring an apple or something along with banana chocolate chip muffins and Skittles for good measure. It’s going to be a long day.

When we flew down to Disneyland this summer it was an early early flight. We had about an hour to kill in the Seattle airport and I figured Seattle is full of hippies so surely I would be able to find something without dairy in it for breakfast. It turns out Americans love their dairy-filled baked goods and I ended up settling for a $4 fruit cup. Note to self, always bring a homemade muffin.

When road tripping, the same snacking rules apply. Maybe bring some sandwiches, too, along with some sliced up oranges. While I would never bring tuna or egg salad (or PB&anything for that matter) sandwiches onto an airplane, it is perfectly acceptable to eat them in your own car.

Have a game plan. When travelling with someone else it’s always good to lay out your expectations. For me, this means that if the cut off to drop off your checked bags is 45 minutes before flying time, I want to aim to be at the airport no later than 60 minutes beforehand. My underwear’s in there and I’m going to need it wherever I’m going. The thought of being too late to check my luggage gives me indigestion.

When road tripping with someone it’s good to have scheduled stops. When Karl and I drive from Victoria to Calgary, as soon as we hit the mainland we stop in Kamloops, Golden, and at our destination. One or two extra potty breaks are allowed but they are not for dilly dallying. We do not detour. We have purpose.

It’s good to know if the person you’re road tripping with has the same sense of purpose as you. If you’re a get-there kind of person and they’re a stop-at-every-photo-op type, one of you will probably get left on the side of the road. It’s good to have that conversation before confining yourself to a motor vehicle with them for untold hours. Wars have been started for less.

Dress appropriately. Airplanes are warm. And then they’re cold. And then all the air stops moving and you wonder if that’s what it feels like to be buried alive. No, I’m not claustrophobic, but I imagine people that are don’t fly very well. Wear layers, but not too many layers. You don’t want to irritate the person beside you by stripping off your sweater and then elbowing them in the face when you put it back on. Wear comfortable clothes that you can wear in both desert and artic conditions. TOMs are very comfortable on an airplane because they help your feet breathe when you’re overheating, but they aren’t great for security. Security is going to have to scan your TOMs to see if you’re hiding a rocket launcher in there and then you’re going to be walking barefoot where millions of strangers have gone before.

I highly recommend wearing shoes without laces whenever and however you travel. Security at the airport will make you take them off, and if you’re a passenger in a car you might want to take your shoes off, too. If you don’t, I think you’re weird.

Road trip clothing should be even more comfortable than when flying. You’re going to be in a car for ten hours so you might as well wear leggings all day. And layers. Because even in -40 the sun can get hot coming through that window.

 

I hope you don’t feel too spoiled, getting two posts in a week. Happy birthday to you.