I won’t lie, as a childless person I used to despise people who brought kids on flights. Flying isn’t exactly the most comfortable experience as it is, and then you see some family descend the aisle with one of those things…
A baby.
I used to sit there praying they weren’t seated near me. And when they took their seats far from mine, I’d watch in disappointment as they didn’t even attempt to store it in the overhead locker. These people had really brought a baby on a flight. How dare they.
Oh, how the tables have turned!
Now I’m a parent, I’m a little more understanding. Not of the need to bring the child on the plane, but of the poor people around me that will be thinking the intrusive thoughts I’d once had — why not check the baby in at the desk? Or better yet, Kevin McCallister the whole thing?
Fortunately, I’ve not had to take my son on a flight yet. It’s coming soon but I’ve managed to avoid it thus far. No, our first trip away was a camping trip. I’ll just say it up top, I don’t like camping. I don’t see the point in sleeping in an uncomfortable bed with nothing but nylon and a zipper to keep me and my family safe.
This trip was my wife’s idea, inspired by an episode of Bluey that she and my son had watched. Oh, Bluey. I will feed you your body weight in chocolate for this one, so help me god.
Camping is not about comfort
I’m well travelled. I spent most of my twenties backpacking around the world and sleeping at bus stops and on overnight trains in India, South America, and everywhere in between. I’m no stranger to discomfort.
My wife and son were so excited about this trip. She spent weeks picking out the type of tent she wanted before eventually settling on something with more rooms than most houses and a price tag that closely reassembled a mortgage repayment for our own home. She bought a little gas stove, along with all the utensils and gadgets needed to open a restaurant from scratch. She was so keen. And this of course spilled over into my son who grew more and more eager to set off for the road by the day.
Don’t worry, I was no sour puss about the whole thing, I was just as excited to be spending a few days away with my family. I wasn’t a fan of camping but I was very much enjoying how excited they both were.
Planning is everything
As anyone with kids knows, when you’re going away for any amount of time, you need to plan carefully. There are the essentials of course. What child isn’t particular when it comes to food in one way or another? And the comforts of home too, whether it’s a device or a toy, a pillow, a specific blanket, there’s invariably something that must come too. Indeed, kids can be fragile if stripped of all their comforts and security and understandably so, so packing for this trip was quite the task.
And that’s it, isn’t it? Make sure the boy has everything he could possibly need for a few days? And a few extra surprise treats for emergencies. That’s everything covered.
Almost.
New adventures await
Did I mention that my son had never been camping before? He held up well all things considered. Oh, did I mention that my wife, who sanctioned this entire expedition, had also never been camping before?
A trip that was meant to last 5 days was over after the first night because my poor wife couldn’t sleep on a camp bed. And I’ll be honest, when she pulled the pin on it and sheepishly asked if we could go home early, I was more than happy to pack things up and head for the hills. She and I had spent so long worrying about how our son would fair away from home, we’d not even considered the obvious - camping sucks.
