Lessons Learned While Traveling for Ten Days with Baby
1) When destination is in another time zone, anticipate the loss of at least three days and don’t anticipate getting baby back on his routine until you’re home.
2) A stroller is essential, especially if you don’t want to break your back carrying baby in the bjorn all over the place.
3) Bring nail clippers. Just because you’re on vacation, it doesn’t mean his little finger and toe nails are.
4) Always, always bring spare sets of clothes on the airplane. For whatever reason, explosive, volcanic poops seem to strike just as you’re waiting to board. Be prepared.
5) A pebble inside an empty water bottle. A change purse. Crinkly magazine paper. All of the above can be improvised as substitute toys, especially when a meltdown is eminent.

For Grandma June’s 80th birthday bash, Jude flew across country to the smoke-filled casinos of Vegas and swam in swimming pools filled with drunken adults drifting about on blue floats. Somehow it felt incongruous to be visiting my pious Grandma and celebrating with family amid the vices of Sin City. With sex shops unabashedly advertising their services in bloodshot neon on the sides of the road along with building-size boards luring get-rich-quick wanna-be’s with the allures of playing poker while being served free drinks by women clad in thongs, fish-net stockings and high-heeled shoes, there was plenty of opportunity to entertain any whim.
Personally, I took note of the gas prices ($3.75 was the lowest around) and the inexpensive food, as compared to the East Coast. Otherwise, we focused on spending time with the rest of the family, many people I hadn’t seen in 18 years, not since the last family reunion when many of the now new parents were just kids themselves.
I found myself in the company of my older cousins, with their toddlers, and not my cousins closer in age who downed shots of cheap liquor and gambled for most of the trip. Pre-Jude, I reflected, I would have still been a part of that cohort, but now I have a lot more in common with other new moms.
Matt and I left Jude in the care of Grandma one evening to investigate the strip, specifically to walk on a crowded pirate ship and ride a rollercoaster in a casino. All of which occurred on zero sleep since the time difference did not sit well with Jude, compounded by birthday events that interfered with his napping times.
By the time we reached the inviting, sunny oasis of San Francisco both Matt and I were on the brink of exhaustion. While admiring Bonsai in the Golden Gate Park one afternoon, I experienced an overwhelming urge to lie out on the enticing grass. Unbeknownst to me, several hours passed before Matt and Jude returned after having lunch together and doing some shopping.
We were fortunate enough to stay with my friend Alex’s family while she was away. With three kids under the age of eleven, we were enveloped into the folds of their day and enjoyed a relaxing stay in the pinnacle of hippiness in the Haight-Ashbury area.
Despite tumultuous nights, days were dedicated to venturing out in the city. Jude cried then surrendered at Alcatraz (we took many cute pictures of him behind bars…I only hope it isn’t a prelude for things to come!), visited with Aunt Meg in Union Square and hung out at the beach on the last day before checking out Union Street.
The thin, ornately decorated Victorian townhouses with opaque bay windows immediately won me over, not to mention the whole laid-back attitude and the triad of having city, ocean and mountains as one. With Thai restaurants galore as the cherry on top, I could easily see us raising Jude in San Francisco…
After screaming fits at night, we would place Jude between Matt and myself as so to prevent Jude from toppling right off the bed. In the middle of the night, I often awoke to Jude head-butting my chest as he managed to shimmy his way over to me in a gimp-like way since he hasn’t quite mastered the crawl yet. I ended up sleeping with my back to him, otherwise my boobs would be constantly violated.
Once at the Stanford Park hotel, Jude and I luxuriated in long baths together and he giggled when I blew bubbles and never once protested to having his head dunked. In spite of many activities (visiting Google then hearing Oprah speak at Stanford’s graduation ceremony) and interaction with many people (in addition to 10 members of the Daniels family, Jude also met my two cousins and saw Grandma Shirley and Ray), Jude laughed and played most of the day. I shudder thinking back to the early months when he cried inexplicably and never smiled.
One morning I woke up to Jude lying on his back, thrusting his pelvis upwards as though a puppet connected by a marionette’s string. The pelvic thrusting continued for about half an hour before he turned to Matt’s arm and began sucking furiously. After farting noises ensued, Jude laughed loudly. Matt and I exchanged knowing glances: he’s definitely our son.
Luckily, the flight back was much shorter and no bachelor parties were taking place (on the way to Vegas, the plane was delayed an additional 45 minutes because drunk guys kept getting up to pee before take-off). Now, I’m looking forward to getting Jude back on his schedule and catching up on lost sleep!