And now, a brief and disjointed post round-up because it is naptime and whoo boy, I have a lot to do between now and the next irritated howl from the nursery. So lo and behold, the Brief Monkey Travelers’ Guide to Being a Tourist With A Sick Kid, a.k.a. How To Have Fun Or Die Trying.
Traveling with a child redefines where you eat. Sure, we brought Maggie to Brazilian barbecue and to Brasserie Beck, where she happily chowed down on pate and cheeses, but that’s not the norm for baby mealtime. You can do that, but you have to take the earliest reservation and be prepared to be seated in the loudest area of the restaurant so your kid will be drowned out. Sometimes it’s nice to go somewhere that offers crayons and a twisty straw. And balloons.
“Zombies Hate That I Am So Awesome.”
Next, you will probably have a table but not a high chair in your hotel room. We were fortunate enough to stay at a Residence Inn, which had a full kitchen and crib but no high chair (not that they knew of, anyway). So the Chicco Hook-On high chair
is your new best friend that allows you to feed your child in your room and not chase him or her down like a banshee wielding applesauce. It also folds flat into a large backpack and can go with you to coffee and lunch dates at restaurants downtown that are not trying to hear about accommodating babies.
Bib: “I’m a McCutie!” Yes, yes you are.
Some of you may feel as I do about travel photography. My least favorite shots of all time are ones composed solely of “Hey! This is Me! Standing in front of Some Famous Thing!” This is all well and good for you if you like that sort of thing, and surely there are several amateur photographers taking these shots. Thanks to falling prices on DSLRs, every ass with a fanny pack and $600 bucks can pop for a Digital Rebel and try to add an artistic component to the Some Famous Thing shot. (I include myself in your numbers, amateur photogs, sans fanny pack. That shit’s just not right.) But I don’t like that shot and I don’t like to take it.
Be that as it may, you have grandparents to satisfy now. They want to see Their Grandbaby in front of Some Famous Thing. And we could not leave DC without a few Famous Shots.
About to fall in.
Next, try to engage the child with things that might interest him or her by tying it back to their life. This may be effective if your child is cognizant of things other than Cheerios, stacking toys, and how much this damn stroller sucks and will you take the picture already, Ma?!
Failing that, plan for some child friendly activities. The National Building Museum was free and SO AWESOME, OH MY GOD. It was perfect for kids of all ages, including Tom who wanted very badly to find someone to build an arch with him (I was eating my sandwich. You don’t interrupt Mommy’s roast beef). The Baltimore Aquarium is also fantastic, and not even really for the animals, though those are wonderful. No, the Baltimore Aquarium has several clear water-filled columns near the entrance, through which bubbles flow. That’s it. No fishes, jellyfish, krill, nothing. Just bubbles. And if you’re eleven months old…well, what else do you need?
Tom, attempting to engage Maggie’s attention, failing.
As far as the rest goes, I wrote an article for Matador
last year that really sums it up. Just assume that the rest periods and knowing where urgent care is (and thank YOU, friend’s iPhone!) go double for long vacations that begin with an illness.
It turned out to be mostly fun–not what we expected, but certainly fun. At the very least, we’ve repressed the bad nights to the point where we can laugh now and color-correct our vacations into revisionist history, and isn’t THAT what memories are made of?
I thought so.