About 10 years ago, I had the pleasure of spending Thanksgiving completely by myself in New York’s East Village. I must have known on some level that it would never happen again and I indulged in takeout for every meal of the day: fried egg sandwich for breakfast, burrito for lunch, and Chinese for dinner. I leisurely read the New York Times and watched a Cary Grant marathon on A&E. Sure, it was pathetic and gluttonous but it was amazing not to travel anywhere and the only family contact I had to deal with was a quick phone call home. HEAVEN!
Oh for that Thanksgiving of my lonely twenties… Now, the holidays are wrought with travel and all the ridiculous toddler accouterments that come with it. I’ve never felt more accomplished or more insane after a trip with my daughter. And it starts with a list of crap you have to lug with you—and don’t expect your husband to help with the packing. They NEVER pack for the children or arrange for a cat sitter.
This is how you travel with a toddler from NYC:
Drink Chardonnay while flying with a toddler.
- Load your stroller up with no less than four bags just for baby: diaper bag, toy bag, small travel cooler for milk and food, and clothes bag. Toy bag must include 6 books that will not be read at Grandma’s house, 3 pretend cellphones to annoy the entire plane with, at least one medium-sized plastic toy that won’t seem to fit anywhere after you initially pack it, and a stuffed animal for collecting rotavirus germs along the way.
- Roll stroller through the streets of Manhattan to your car with your kid strapped to you in some sort of clavicle-crushing front carrier while you also pull your giant roller suitcase behind you. Scoff at the 20-something hipsters and their pitiful glances as you roll your suitcase over a pile of dog shit. Comfort yourself with the knowledge they t0o will one day experience parenting, and, ha ha, they are wearing Sally Jesse Rafael glasses without lenses and a fedora.
- Bring lots of diapers and wipes, especially for flying. Be prepared for your child to take a really messy dump right after takeoff. Also be ready for them to slide around in feces while you change them on the airplane bathroom’s changing table during turbulence. Your husband will never change a diaper on an airplane either, sorry ladies.
- While in line for security, take off your child’s shoes because they could have built a shoe bomb in their crib earlier in the day. Also be very wary of their bottles—apparently another source of baby-terrorist activity while you weren’t looking, who knew?
- Once on the aircraft: breathe, order a glass of Chardonnay—even on a morning flight—the glass of Chardonnay is CRITICAL for you to get through the flight. Do anything possible to keep your kid from crying and screaming i.e. feed them constantly. One thing I’ve learned is to not let them crawl over the seat in front of you while you sneak sips of your Chardonnay. Flight attendants get all weird about it, but you’ll be able to laugh off any angry reprimands because Chardonnay is really good at making flying with a kid funny.
- When at your destination and Grandma and P-Pa finally arrive at the baggage claim, throw toddler into their loving arms so they can go home and bake some goddamn candied yams. You, on the other hand, should really head to a movie theater because when was the last time you saw a shitty movie at a real theater? Like a year ago??
It’s the little things that make motherhood so fabulous. Happy Thanksgiving!
