Pack Daddy

As I wrote in my last post my daughter and I took a little trip to visit my parents up in the Washington D.C. metro area last week.  We had a great time up there.  My daughter loved all the attention and the fact that she got to play with her grandparents all day long.  I was enjoying the break as my mom, as many mothers are prone to do, did not let me do anything.  No cooking, no cleaning, I wasn’t even able to change a diaper.  It was nice.

That being said, the actual trip, on the other hand, was a little tougher.  I knew traveling with an 18-month old, a fairly hyperactive 18-month old, was going to be a challenge.  I had visions of her screaming her lungs off for the entire 2 hour flight. Disturbing images of altercations with other passengers over my daughters refusal to settle down flooded my mind.  Fortunately, that wasn’t the case.  It turns out that the most exhausting aspect of flying with a toddler, as a single parent (temporary!) is actually getting through the airport.  Apparently kids need a lot of stuff.

Occasionally I have to travel for work and I usually pride myself in being a pretty light traveler. For a weeks trip I usually just have my carry-on roller suitcase (usually just half-full) and my computer bag (usually completely full, as my wife will attest).  This time, it was different.  It’s amazing how much extra stuff you need to pack when bringing along a person that weighs 1/10th of what you weigh (yes…I weigh about 10xs my daughters weight :-|)

This time my suitcase was completely full but half of the clothes packed was my daughters.  How can she use up half my suitcase?  She’s like 2 feet tall!  But that was just the clothes.  In addition to clothing I had to make sure I had a supply diapers for the flight, snacks, toys, books, changing pad, wipes, Sippy cups, bibs, rubber table mat, and various other baby paraphernalia.  All of this had to fit in a back-pack that was also holding my computer, DSLR Camera, digital video camera (like a Flip Video type), PSP (trust me…this was necessary), and various Daddy paraphernalia.  Add to that a stroller and a car seat.   So imagine if you will a man with a monster backpack, pushing a stroller, pulling a roller suitcase, and somehow bringing along a car seat.  I was doing my best Sherpa impersonation.

I actually had a pretty good system going. Baby was happy in the umbrella stroller I was pushing, back-pack on my back, and the car seat was strapped to the suitcase.  BTW, I LOVE my Swiss army backpack with all of its pockets, nooks, crannies, and compartments.  So I was pretty proud of myself for figuring out this system and actually cruising through the airport.  Then I got to security.

#*&%^#!!!!!

So, baby comes out of the stroller, off with her coat, off with her shoes, off with my coat, off with my shoes, computer comes out of the backpack, coats in trough in one bin, computer in another bin, stroller gets folded and goes through the x-ray machine, car seat gets unstrapped and through the x-ray machine, baby goes through the x-ray…err…scratch that last one.  At least I was smart enough to check my suitcase.  But what a PAIN IN THE BUTT!!

We get through security, put everything back on and back together, and it’s on our way again. Sherpa time!  So we get to the gate. That’s when I realize that the flight is going to be on one of these teeny, tiny commuter jets.  Which means we actually board the plane on the tarmac and not through a jet way. Which means we have to go down stairs and the climb up some more stairs to the jet.

#*&%^#!!!!!

Somehow or another we negotiate this last set of obstacles, get to our seats, strap the car seat in and get settled for our flight.  The flight itself was pretty uneventful and even got complemented on how well behaved my daughter was.  My secret?  My PSP with the movie “The Incredibles” loaded on it kept her hypnotic….err occupied for the entire trip.  I was able to relax and remember remarking “I never want to do that again!”

Then I remembered that we had to come home in a week.

#*&%^#!!!!