Travel Tips for your Toddler

Whew! After a sleepless night and early morning departure from Colorado back to Virginia, I peeled a sweaty Margo off my back and unceremoniously dumped her into her crib for a much needed nap. One beer and two pieces of cake later, I am feeling much cooler and much better. I made it. Even though I am used to traveling with my kids via whatever form of transportation, the feeling of tenuous edginess never goes away. So when one of my girlfriends asked me about my traveling "secrets" with a toddler, I instantly started stress-sweating just thinking about it- even in the safety of my home. I also laughed because in order to answer this question with any sense of accuracy would require extensive statistics and pie charts based on variables such as: weather, horoscope forecasts, moon and tide positions, previous two weeks sleep patterns, and/or whether mommy had enough to drink the night before.

At any rate, I gave it some thought and decided to share how I got through this last trip to Colorado with Margo, who will turn two in October. Here is a list of what was in my carry-on "one personal item" bag*:

1.  standard repertoire of hygiene products- diapers, wipes, butt-paste, poop bags. 
2.  child's water bottle
3.  mom's water bottle that she'd rather backwash drink from anyway
4.  2-3 new books and learn-along-tablet for throwing on floor or over the seat**
5. giant assed blankie
6. iPhone with Blue's Clues (she gave it a good 10 minutes!)
7. post-it notes, pen, bobby pins
8. dental floss
9. small bottle hand lotion and/or lip balm
10. toy truck for her to throw across the aisle**
11. bazillion snack packs- crackers, yogurt raisins, Clif bar, cereal poofs, fruit snacks that she may or may not have eaten, chewed & spit, crushed, thrown, or force-fed on other people.
12. mom's wallet to extract all forms of ID and credit cards

*some people bring extra clothes in case of blowouts, I threw caution to the wind and elected to not bring seconds. I also flew Frontier which meant I would have to pay extra for a "carry-on."

**completely useless 

Making short order of her Post-its.

Winners of this trip? Numbers definitely 6, 7 and 8. That girl loves to make messes, and guess what? Post-its and floss are super easy to clean up. I'm no expert, but I say if your kid has the attention span for shows, go with it. Travel is out of your routine anyway, and it's not going to ruin their precious minds. Same goes for food- some eat, some don't and it can change every time. Margo coveted the cereal poofs today, but last week went to town on the fruit snacks.

 Let me add a quick note about mom's needs- dressing for comfort and style: I tend to favor a familiar shirt/top that hides sweat, snot, or food and jeans/pants with pockets. First, make sure your tank top isn't so old that the button pops loose with every move thus creating a strip-tease and necessitating the use of available dental floss to tie it shut. Second, make sure your shirt isn't so stretchable that whenever your monster toddler climbs over you, they don't succeed stretching the shirt down to your belly button. At least I had the fortitude to wear a scarf and at least the other passengers pretended to ignore my clothing malfunctions. Third, if you forgo the belt due to security screening, make sure said 'pants with pockets' stay up, covering the entirety of your rump. No one wants to see that. But, I'm just speaking hypothetically. Yup.

Forced joint selfie with new light up princess bracelet. Not a big hit.
I'm not sure it even made it off the plane. 

All in all Margo did great minus a few verbal protests and attempts to vacate the premises. I think all toddlers have this amazing ability to liquefy their bones and slither through our parental clutches! I had her on my lap for the trip out, and thank God for my seat neighbor who entertained her a bit too (FYI: I always get an aisle seat if I can help it) by distracting her when my tricks failed.  Other people's lotions, iPads and tolerance of getting kicked by tiny feet repeatedly always helps too.  As for the way back, we lucked out big time by having an extra seat for her to sit in. I gotta tell you, it makes all the difference! Our row-mate hid in his window seat pretending to sleep and ignoring Margo's outdoor-voice commands for the 3.5 hour flight. 

Some people swear by strollers, and I am one of them. I know they are bulky and a pain in the ass to take apart, but if the kid(s) need to decompress and chill out, it's a great option. This trip I forwent a stroller and used a baby carrier to confine Margo during the luggage retrieval and walk from Metro. As the sweat ran from my head to my crack on the trek home,  for a split second I considered taking a taxi. But as you all know I am a cheapskate and find value in walking on my own two feet.  I made it home, thankful that I won't have to deal with the hardships of traveling for... oh crap... one week. And I get to do it all over again.  Stay tuned!

Girl's Weekend in Colorado

Here's a question for all you concert-going enthusiasts: standing room, general admission seating implies that when 3 people in front of you leave for whatever reason, do they have the right to claim back their spot? My best friend Amy and I were rocking out to one of Colorado's famous bands, Big Head Todd and the Monsters up in Breckenridge, when a family of three who were collectively imbibing on a secret flask of whiskey plus beer, decided to leave their spots right in front of us. Probably to get more alcohol. In my opinion, concert etiquette meant we could and should fill in the extra space, right? Apparently, the drunk trio felt otherwise and upon returning began to whine how girls of 5'4" and 5'7" were blocking their view of the band. I figured they could have their spot back if they only asked, but they played the passive aggressive card instead. And so we held our position until the delightful end.

Thumbs up for "why yes, we smell pot."

The whole weekend with Amy was a fabulous reunion, filled with other interesting stories and observations. Upon picking her up at the airport at 7:00 am, we proceeded directly to breakfast where I heard a story about a woman who thought the kicking pain in her belly was the result of a poor diet... for nine months. Turns out it was a baby the whole time. Thankfully, mom and surprise baby are doing incredibly well and are enjoying each other's company. After breakfast and prior to the concert we enjoyed a 6.5 mile hike where we encountered a lady walking a puppy on the trail. She was congratulating the 7 week old dog in a baby voice for his "very successful poopie!" The lady was clearly very proud.

Gluttons for punishment, the next day Amy and I signed up for a Body Pump class filled with exuberant thirty-something moms, led by a seemingly lackadaisical instructor. Neither of us could keep a straight face when she told us to "use your back door" when referring to triceps extensions. Okay, maybe we have the maturity of twelve year olds because the giggles didn't stop when we took the following yoga class. Amy kept trying to use her back door while channeling her "isosceles triangles" in chair pose. The instructor said this, I kid you not. It made me wonder what bizarre things have come out of my mouth when I teach yoga...
 
Later that night, we were scheduled to go dancing with a dear friend of mine from high school.  (I didn't really think this through after hiking and the gym, two things that I never do in real life.) But she would be bringing another friend I had not seen in over 14 years so we found our resolve- we'd dance; sore back doors not. Of course being the cheapskate that I am, I insisted we could easily walk the mile from the hotel to the dance club instead of taking a cab. Milk was the club and had variety of rooms playing anything from 80's music, to electronic, to goth. Amy and I settled in wearing sundresses and sandals, only a slight contrast from trench coats, chains, lace and eyeliner. We loved the uninhibited dance moves and people watched as we sipped our beers,  jiggling what body parts that weren't already aching. I saw one gentleman snort cocaine and another palm what seemed like ecstasy amid the flurry of was described as the "Gothic March." It was like red tinted dream, but totally worth spending time with some hilarious and interesting friends from my childhood. On the way home, after a few drunken cheers for boobies and babes we more or less passed out once our heads hit the pillows.

Fitting right in.

 When planning for our reunion Amy mentioned she wanted new photos of us, so I logged onto Groupon and found a photographer for $39.00. We met her the next day at the hotel and over champagne toasts, we proceeded in making onlookers think that I had just proposed. Truth is, she'd be worth it, but of course is already married! The shoot was short and sweet- 40 minutes in exchange for 25 pictures on disc. The photographer, Devorah Roldan did a phenomenal job. She was professional, creative and timely. Should anyone be interested find her here and here and here  (links to her website, FB, and Groupon.)

She said yes!

Not quite done with my sweet Amy, we hopped back into the car and drove to my parents house for another mini reunion. Margo was only slightly pissed that I left her for two days and kept her eye on me the entire time, but was social enough to give Amy some warm hugs and kisses. Sadly, after steak and champagne and crooning over toddlers and babies, it was time to take her to the airport. In three days we hiked over 57,000 steps and drove 300 miles, and laughed off 10,000 calories. God knows why she loves me, but Amy is part of my heart and soul and I am indebted to her amazing friendship and insatiable sense of humor. I don't know when or where we will see each other next, but 10 years ago we both committed to seeing each other at least once a year, and have followed through; every time picking up right where we left off.

Post Exam Torrential

Man!  I was really hoping the content of my post-exam blog would be different than what I've put to the screen. But it isn't. Actually, I can't tell if I am more disappointed with that or the fact that I didn't get the grade I wanted! The good news is, I didn't fail because I didn't need to take the exam in the first place and I still received a score indicating my ability to understand a foreign language. Nevertheless, I wanted to brag about how "I Want To Break Free" was blasting overhead as I exited the building with notes and articles blazing behind my path. I even fantasized about my pithy FB post with tons of congratulatory comments. Instead, I simply left the FSI premises in a mess of tears and shock, completely avoiding FB-land. Now I have "Let It Go" as my go-to song. I might start carrying a boom box around just to play it.

The exam was tough and hats off to those diplomats who subject themselves to the game every few years. For weeks I took heart to some sound exam advice a fellow blogger wrote about and transformed my entire perspective into staying calm, keeping it simple, and focusing on what I knew. (She's good stuff.  Check out Travel Orders).  For me, the calming mantras and game plan worked- until it didn't.  As I've been telling myself: you win some, you lose some and after a tearful weekend, I am ready to move on.  I finished 24 very full weeks of studying Portuguese and after a disappointing exam performance, I am forced to go back and remember why I signed up for language in the first place: to learn and love the language. I certainly can do that now, and quite well in my opinion. According to Mark, I also speak better than he does. So no regrets. 

Work it girl: over 800 sheets of paper, countless flash cards,
five workbooks, five notebooks, texts, magazines...
great catharsis in throwing out all my hard work.

As a side note, I would like to point out a good resource for Foreign Service families: the Employee Consultation Services are the real deal who might actually offer some great perspective on battles we face every day. I noticed early on my anxiety about a dumb exam was infiltrating other parts of my life. So I made the call which was the hardest part, but I was connected to a counselor at FSI who treaded the waters with me. Now that I broached the surface of therapy, I have a mountain of other histories to tackle, but it was nice to have a third party perspective when we get this tunnel vision. And it was free, just for future reference: call them at 703-812-2257 or email: MEDECS@state.gov.

I'm glad it's over. I'm glad I did it. Will I do it again? I will let you know. Do I have any advice? Not a bit. But the great news is in between planning for our Brazil departure, I can get back into my old hijinks again, so stay tuned for more stories and commentary.