HOW TO TRAVEL WITH A TODDLER ... DON'T

How to plan a trip with a toddler ... DONT

So, it’s your baby’s first birthday and you want to take a trip. You spend months and months planning this amazing family getaway and the day finally arrives. What does your baby do? He loses his f#^king sh*t.

[ COMPLETELY LOSES IT ]

Well, at least mine did.

My husband and I both come from families of divorce. His mom is basically remarried and so is my dad. My dad’s girlfriend has twin boys, my husband has a brother, I have a brother and a sister who has a fiancé. Then there’s my mom, my father-in-law and my husband (15 of us total). Then I have a best friend who is basically another sister. She has a daughter three weeks younger than Anthony (we were actually due the same day, but that’s a story for a different day), a son who is 5, and a husband (who acts 5…JK, love you J).

For those of you who lost count, we’re at 19 people total. This is how many people I had to coordinate with to plan this Disney World Birthday Extravaganza.

Next year, we’re getting a cake and that is ALL.

As a mom, you try your best to look into the future and plan for any possible thing that can go wrong. I think it’s like a fun new superpower that awakens in you the second your child leaves your body.

I knew the day was approaching where we had a three-and-a-half hour drive to Orlando. We originally planned to drive up Friday, go straight to Magic Kingdom just the three of us, and then meet the rest of the crew at the two houses that I rented for all of us to stay in. Just punch me in the face right now, why don’t you?

I did not take into account that Daylight Savings occurred the weekend before our travels and, surprise, he didn’t take it well. He was an actual psycho for the first half of the week and, as Friday quickly approached, the anxiety kicked in. What happens if he doesn’t sleep in the car on the way up, misses his first nap, and then doesn’t nap at all in the park? I may as well be pushing Satan himself around in the stroller at that point.

So, what was my plan to avoid this? Let’s leave Thursday night and stay in a random hotel - that way, he’ll sleep on the drive up because it’ll be nighttime and he’ll be exhausted. We can get a good nights’ sleep when we arrive, wake up the following morning, even get an early nap in and go to the park refreshed. The joke is on me, people.

Anthony screamed the entire car ride with short breaks in-between just to catch his breath and hit a higher pitch the next go-around. It’s fine. It’s only three-and-a-half hours. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel - we still have the rest of the night to sleep and wake up refreshed.

Bye, Felicia.

We put him down at 10:17pm. He slept until 11:17pm. He was awake until 4:45am and then backvup at 8:15am. I haven’t had to pace around the room with my 25-pound child this long in MONTHS. Every time I would put him down, it was like he was possessed. So, I kept pacing. If I gave him to my husband, he would scream louder. It was one of the most frustrating nights we have ever had as a family.

The next morning, we all got dressed and headed downstairs for the Disney Character Breakfast Buffet at our hotel. Personally, I’ve never been to a breakfast buffet with 55 open tables and still had to wait 25 minutes. It’s like they knew today wasn’t my day, and they just wanted to fuel my inner fire. Finally, “Sherman, party of 2 and a half” was ready... Cue the Anthony meltdown. He full-on threw himself to the floor and screamed so loud, I was sure the glasses on the tables were going to shatter. I looked at the waitress and asked how often the characters come out. She looked confused and said, “Oh, they’re not here today.” Are you f#^king kidding me right now? These characters work at Disney and still get a day off, but I can’t get a second to go to the bathroom?

And back to the room we went, so that Anthony could let out his inner Medusa in private. Finally, he fell asleep at 11:16am. And what time do we have to check out? 11am.

I called the front desk and thankfully they let us check out later without charging us for another day.

By the time we headed to the park, it was already 12:30pm. We pulled up to the Magic Kingdom parking booth to pay, and the gentleman at the window says, “I just want to make sure you know that the park closes at 6pm tonight instead of our normal 11pm because we have an event.” Of course you do.

Whatever. Let’s be real; how many hours would Anthony realistically keep his sh*t together? On we went.

We unloaded the car and loaded the stroller with the million things that you require as a parent of a toddler. It feels like you’re packing for a week-long vacation when you go anywhere with a child. We walked to the tram, unloaded and folded up the stroller, just for the tram to transport us 20 feet. We should’ve just walked. Again, whatever. We were almost there. And my tolerance for stupidity was improving daily.

Finally, we walked through the gates to the “happiest place on earth.” You guessed it. Cue the hysterics.

Have you ever taken a good look around at the faces of the parents in Disney? If you haven’t, you should. There’s a hint of desperation and agony. My husband and I were now a part of a different Disney crew. Gone were the carefree days of walking around aimlessly and enjoying the scenery. Hello, searching for the nearest tree branch to catch the baby’s attention for a few seconds because apparently every other bright-colored object in Disney is not impressive enough for Anthony. Let’s just say: going to Disney with children should be considered an Olympic sport.

We finally made it to Fantasyland when it started to rain. Not a drizzle; we’re talking downpour. Did I mentioned that it wasn’t raining anywhere else in the park?

It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine. [Insert Ross Geller voice here]

It was then that I decided 4 hours was enough. Let’s go to the house.

The following day was Anthony’s actual birthday. I woke up, left him with his uncles, and ran to Publix to grab his cake. I thought I should be nice and stop at Dunkin’ to get everyone coffee to prepare for what would sure be a long and testy day. Well the “testy” part of my day was already starting in the Dunkin’ line. The girl in front of me was the most indecisive person I’ve ever encountered. First of all, there were three other people in line before her. You would this would have given her ample time to decide what the heck she wanted to order. Who didn’t look at the menu before she stood in front of the cashier? Her. Who took 15 minutes to select a dozen donuts? Her. Who did I want to smack? Her. But, I told myself that this was just a preview of what I would have to deal with in Epcot just a few hours later.

Well, after three hours of trying to get 19 people ready to walk out the door for one annoying family photo in our matching shirts... l needed a drink. When we finally got into the park, I couldn’t believe how many people were there. Did I mention it was Veterans Day weekend? We literally couldn’t even walk. It was impossible to get food or a drink without waiting in line for at least 30 minutes. Try doing that with a child.

I can’t tell you the amount of self-restraint it took not to go up to a stranger, grab their drink, and chug it.

We got there at 12pm and made it to 6:30pm, which in my eyes, was a win. At that point, my nerves were shot, my child had lost his sh*t too many times to count, and I was done trying to keep it together. We went back to the house, and after two additional hours of trying to get him down for bed, he passed out and slept through the night. THANK GOD.

Because of my child’s amazing behavior on the way up to Orlando, my husband and I figured we should try to turn his car seat to face the front on the way home. Maybe he would keep his cool and enjoy the scenic view... He was big enough for it, according to our car seat guidelines, though I will keep him rear-facing for another year because I feel it’s safer. But, we were trying to maintain some sanity for the next three-and-a-half hours.

Did that help us? No. Did my child scream for the entire car ride? Yes.

Needless to say, we will not be doing this trip again for quite some time. I will no longer be organizing 19 people to join us for a weekend in Orlando. Note to my future self: plan nothing and go with the flow. Better yet, plan for the worst, but don’t let it consume you. Roll with the punches… or in mom-hood... roll with the tantrums.

All 19 of us. (There’s a baby in my best friend’s hand, you just can’t really see her, but she counts).