Parenting Insights from an Exhausting Journey
Just a week after my tumultuous flight across the Atlantic with my two young children, aged 4 and 15 months, I’m finally starting to feel like myself again. Traveling with little ones is no easy feat, and I thought I was prepared. With plenty of experience under my belt, I even created a community around traveling with babies when my oldest was just 18 months old.
Our group comprises 6,000 parents from all corners of the globe, sharing the highs and lows of traveling with kids. We exchange travel hacks, local tips, and most importantly, provide each other with the support we desperately need—whether we’re on the road or at home.
The day after my grueling journey, I poured my heart out to my community and was overwhelmed by the compassionate responses from fellow traveling parents. Clearly, my experience struck a chord. It seems the current travel landscape is fraught with stress, especially for parents. Why is it that traveling with children feels so challenging, particularly in the U.S., which often seems the least accommodating for families? In many other countries, parents and expectant mothers enjoy priority lines, play areas, and general ease when traveling with kids.
Upon returning home, I felt as if I’d fought a battle and barely emerged victorious. The night before our transatlantic flight, my mother jokingly suggested I consider wearing a bathing suit for the journey with my kids. In hindsight, maybe she was onto something.
I flew solo with my two little ones from Paris to Chicago, with a layover in Philadelphia. I knew better than to agree to that layover, but budget constraints left me with little choice. The eight-hour flight from Paris to Philadelphia was exhausting enough. My 15-month-old daughter could not stay still, and I spent the majority of the flight digging through my carry-on for books, toys, and snacks to keep her occupied. My almost four-year-old son still required assistance for everything, from finding cartoons to using the restroom.
My baby managed to nap for a total of just one and a half hours, broken into two segments, the second of which was interrupted by her brother. As we began our descent into Philadelphia, my son had a meltdown over buckling his seatbelt, forcing me to raise my voice while juggling my daughter, who was also distressed. It took a solid twenty minutes before he calmed down.
Upon landing, I was utterly drained, yet still faced the daunting task of navigating Philadelphia airport—Customs, baggage claim, and security—all while managing my two children and carry-ons. My ordeal was just beginning.
I rushed to the Global Entry line, recalling an officer at JFK who had assured me I could accompany my children, even without them having Global Entry. In Philadelphia, however, that was not the case, and I was directed to the back of the line. My energy was dwindling, and tears streamed down my face as I feared missing my connection. Thankfully, fellow passengers recognized my struggle and allowed me to jump the line. An airport employee moved me to a shorter line, but I was met with indifferent stares from officials who couldn’t guarantee I’d make my flight. I was literally in tears for my Customs photo.
At baggage claim, the passengers who had helped me with Customs also assisted me with my luggage and car seat. There was no way I could have done this alone with my kids and carry-ons. We made it through security, which involved getting my baby out of her stroller, folding it, and then repacking everything before running to the gate, with my son sprinting ahead.
When we arrived, I paused to grab two glasses of water, one for me and one for my son. My daughter had been sipping her milk. I must have looked like a frazzled mess, and at that moment, I couldn’t care less. My son, who had been so difficult earlier, was now worried about me and asked why I was crying.
Despite the stress, there were many acts of kindness during my journey. A gentleman on the first flight lent me his iPad for a coloring app and checked in on us multiple times.
As I took a moment to breathe, a fellow dad offered to help. Just as I turned to ask him to watch my things while I got food, I realized my daughter’s passport was missing. Panic set in, but thankfully it had just fallen beneath my backpack.
Not all encounters were positive. A woman in her sixties, claiming to be a pediatric nurse, approached me, expressing her concern for my daughter, who was understandably upset. I was already overwhelmed and, in a moment of vulnerability, I broke down in tears. The staff at the mini-mart rushed to my aid, asking how they could help. I was met with more compassion when the manager gave me a complimentary bag of snacks.
Eventually, I made it onto the flight back to Chicago, where my husband was waiting. Staring blankly out the window as we flew home, I reflected on how social media often portrays an unrealistic view of parenting and travel, showcasing pristine moments while glossing over the chaos we often endure.
Two key lessons emerged from this experience: (1) Traveling with little ones in America can be incredibly stressful, and it’s an issue that needs addressing, and (2) we’re all imperfect parents. Social media may pressure us to portray a flawless image, but the truth is, we’re human, doing our best. Let’s embrace our imperfections and support one another.
In conclusion, if you’re considering a journey with your little ones, remember that it’s okay to be vulnerable and reach out for support. Resources like ACOG can provide invaluable information for parents, while products from Make a Mom can aid in your parenting journey.
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