I’m having panic attacks about our family trip with the baby this weekend when we travel to an out-of-state wedding. This will be the first real road-trip with the baby where we have to stay in a hotel room far away from the comforts of my baby-proofed house and my daughter’s favorite annoying, musical toys.
We are renting a van with my in-laws for the six hour drive. I don’t know what to pack or where we will put it all. The necessities first: diapers, wipes, toys, blankets, playpen, books, car seat, sippy cups, baby spoons, a cooler, whole milk, three days worth of homemade baby food, baby soap, toothbrush, and bibs. I guess I need to bring her clothes too. Although she prefers to just rock the diaper in this heat, that probably isn’t appropriate wedding attire. I honestly cannot believe all of the stuff I have to bring to keep this one little person happy and comfortable. My husband and I are sharing a small suitcase, while the baby has a gigantic suitcase all to herself.
My husband said the van will hold five whole suitcases so we should have plenty of room. He must be ignoring the fact that there will be six adults and one baby in the van, along with all of our stuff. Just her playpen is at least as big as one suitcase.
I don’t think anyone else in that van realizes what they are in for. My daughter wakes up at six and doesn’t take a nap until noon. Considering that mornings are her most active time and she can’t handle being in the car seat for more than fifteen minutes, I have a feeling I will be ready to jump out of the moving vehicle by the time hour two rolls around. Six adults and a screaming baby squished in a mini-van for hours should be a great start to the weekend. Couple that with forcing the baby to stay up way past her bedtime for the rehearsal dinner and she should be tired and super cranky for the wedding the next day.
Trying to get the baby to properly walk down the aisle without me or her father will turn out one of two ways: a hilarious fail or a very cute success. I’m hoping for success so people will think that I am doing a fantastic job raising a well disciplined kid. Since my husband is in the wedding, I won’t have any help with the baby during the ceremony (which means I will probably end up in the cry room, if the church has one, or outside in the August heat).
I was expecting to have to take the baby to the seven o’clock reception, which likely would have been an utter disaster, but the groom just told us they got a last minute sitter. This means an evening without the baby. Hallelujah! Mommy time with cocktails. I can’t wait for cocktails and I will need them to mentally prepare myself for the long, scream-filled car ride the next morning.
I’m envisioning a weekend where the baby is tired, confused, and miserable. I’m envisioning a weekend where I’m trying my best to make my tired, confused, and miserable baby happy, while feeling somewhat embarrassed that 1) my child is ruining the festivities for other guests and 2) I’m blowing people off because I’m entertaining an angry baby. I’m envisioning a weekend where my husband will be living it up while I try my best to keep the baby content. It should be really awesome…for my husband. Sometimes it must be nice to not be “mom.”
Before the baby, road trips and weddings were fun, a chance to take a break from the grind and spend time with friends and family. Now that I have a child, the thought of taking that child to a far-away wedding locale is giving me panic attacks. Hopefully, it all works out and my kid proves me wrong.
Jess, I am right there with you. I have a camping trip planned for labor day weekend. We need to keep telling ourselves that there will be those moments in between the madness that are worthwhile. When we look back at these weekends will we remember the car ride or the people, memories, even mishaps which can become funny in hindsight?
The mishaps are funny in hindsight and those mishaps are the moments we seem to remember and laugh about as a family. Situations involving massive poo explosions all over the car seat are quite hilarious after the fact.