Sunday, August 12, 2007
Our Little Unvacation
Traveling with a baby is a special kind of hell.
My husband had the week off so, in all our wisdom, we decided to kill two birds with one stone. First we went to his parent's cottage, then on to visit my family.
Just the sheer volume of stuff we had to take along was (as always) staggering. I reserved a large-ish rental car, and we filled the trunk to the brim with the playpen, highchair, baby-sized life jacket, towels, clothes, diapers, formula, ice packs, food, toys, the complete boxed-set of Baby Einstein videos, storybooks, pillows, etc., etc., etc. Mae easily needs ten times her body weight in stuff just to spend one night away from home, and we were looking at a full week here.
We decided to head out as early as possible. So, after dinner last Friday night, we changed her into her jammies, put her in the car seat and left. We figured she'd sleep through the drive this way, and she did. But when we got to unfamiliar cottage, in the dark, and Mae woke up, she wasn't pleased. Actually, I've never seen her scream like that. I'm sure people could hear her clear across the lake. And nothing would comfort her: not cuddles, or books, or toys or even (the big guns) the tiger puppet in the Baby Einstein Numbers Nursery video. We walked with her for hours until I finally had to let her cry herself to sleep - something I've never done before and never want to do again.
Things got a bit better after that screaming start, but it was still the most un-relaxing vacation I've ever had. Mae still isn't walking much on her own, but she crawls quickly and can stand up without help. She's in to absolutely everything. The cottage wasn't childproofed, and my dad's house was even worse. They never, ever throw anything away. The tippy piles of stuff on every surface are treacherous. Not to mention the extremely chokey and dangerous things we kept finding on the floor... a bottle cap here, a knife there, an ant trap under there...
Then, to further complicate life, Mae is in a clingy stage. Nobody but mommy or daddy will do. She didn't want her grandparent, uncles, aunts or anyone else picking her up, snuggling her, giving her a bottle, changing her diaper or even holding her hands to walk her around. They all tried to be tough about it, but you could tell it hurt their feelings. And while I also know that, one day, when she's a teenager and doesn't want to be within ten feet of me, I'll miss this stage, right now I'm finding it pretty exhausting.
Every single time we come through the front door after a trip like this - arms loaded with baby gear, throats dry from singing one too many overly-cheerful rounds of "The Old Lady who Swallowed a Fly" - I say: "That's it. We're never going anywhere again." But this time.... this time, I definitely mean it.
My husband had the week off so, in all our wisdom, we decided to kill two birds with one stone. First we went to his parent's cottage, then on to visit my family.
Just the sheer volume of stuff we had to take along was (as always) staggering. I reserved a large-ish rental car, and we filled the trunk to the brim with the playpen, highchair, baby-sized life jacket, towels, clothes, diapers, formula, ice packs, food, toys, the complete boxed-set of Baby Einstein videos, storybooks, pillows, etc., etc., etc. Mae easily needs ten times her body weight in stuff just to spend one night away from home, and we were looking at a full week here.
We decided to head out as early as possible. So, after dinner last Friday night, we changed her into her jammies, put her in the car seat and left. We figured she'd sleep through the drive this way, and she did. But when we got to unfamiliar cottage, in the dark, and Mae woke up, she wasn't pleased. Actually, I've never seen her scream like that. I'm sure people could hear her clear across the lake. And nothing would comfort her: not cuddles, or books, or toys or even (the big guns) the tiger puppet in the Baby Einstein Numbers Nursery video. We walked with her for hours until I finally had to let her cry herself to sleep - something I've never done before and never want to do again.
Things got a bit better after that screaming start, but it was still the most un-relaxing vacation I've ever had. Mae still isn't walking much on her own, but she crawls quickly and can stand up without help. She's in to absolutely everything. The cottage wasn't childproofed, and my dad's house was even worse. They never, ever throw anything away. The tippy piles of stuff on every surface are treacherous. Not to mention the extremely chokey and dangerous things we kept finding on the floor... a bottle cap here, a knife there, an ant trap under there...
Then, to further complicate life, Mae is in a clingy stage. Nobody but mommy or daddy will do. She didn't want her grandparent, uncles, aunts or anyone else picking her up, snuggling her, giving her a bottle, changing her diaper or even holding her hands to walk her around. They all tried to be tough about it, but you could tell it hurt their feelings. And while I also know that, one day, when she's a teenager and doesn't want to be within ten feet of me, I'll miss this stage, right now I'm finding it pretty exhausting.
Every single time we come through the front door after a trip like this - arms loaded with baby gear, throats dry from singing one too many overly-cheerful rounds of "The Old Lady who Swallowed a Fly" - I say: "That's it. We're never going anywhere again." But this time.... this time, I definitely mean it.
