20 Travel Rules

Here are some hopefully helpful travel rules, in no particular order of importance:

1.      Get in walking shape.  This is different from crossfit shape, gym shape, or even running shape.  If you have time, put on a heavy backpack and walk a few miles every day for the couple weeks before you take a trip.  Wear the shoes you think you’ll be taking to break them in or discover any problems before sore feet stop you from walking to that hilltop fortress or famous brewery or whatnot. 

2.      Run for that train (or taxi or bus or flight).  On any significant trip, you’ll inevitably need to, and the few minutes of stress and discomfort will be worth not waiting the extra couple hours (or worse) for the next one. 

3.      Pack light.  I’m not re-inventing the wheel here; there’s a reason this is always advised.  Seriously, just pack light.  See rule #2.  Debating whether to bring that third pair of jeans or that cute pair of shoes ‘in case you go out one night’?  If you’ll have to carry your bags at any point, just leave all the extras at home.  Pick a theme (red? brown? black?) pack a pair of shoes and wear the other, lay outfits out and make sure you have all the bits and bobs and that all the pieces go with one another, pack an extra colored scarf or necklace instead of the extra shirt to save weight, and then fit it all into one backpack. Rolling suitcases just aren’t practical in Europe, for the same reason stilettos* aren’t: cobblestones.  *unless you have a French woman’s poise

4.      Know yourself.   The better you know your flaws or peculiarities, the less tension you’ll have traveling with others.  For example, I get angry when I’m hungry.  As in hangry.  For my and Chris’ sake I know that when I’m getting to that point we need to just stop for a minute and find an apple or ice cream or whatever  it will take to stem that ugly tide. 

5.      Eat as many fruit and veggies as possible while you’re on the road, because it’s very common for your, ahem, system to stop up if you don’t.   And that’s no fun.

6.      It’s important to plan but imperative to be flexible.  A particular day comes to mind with this rule: Michelle M. was visiting and the three of us flew to Italy, looking forward to hiking the Cinque Terre trail.  We were at the head of the trail before understanding that a mudslide had rendered the cliffside path impassible.  Instead of tucking tail we seriously had one of my favorite days of the past three years.  The three of us sat on a rock outcropping, talking, drinking Prosecco, eating gelato and then finishing the day with honestly the best meal any of us have ever eaten (at a seaside mom-and-pop restaurant), and then watched fishermen pull their rickety boats out of the Mediterranean as the sky turned purple.   What a shame it would’ve been if we had sulked in the hotel room.

7.      If you do no other planning, at least figure out exactly how to get from your arrival point to your hotel.  You can always figure out the rest of your day (or trip) from there, and you won’t have to worry about your bags or a toilet.

8.      Dress in appropriate layers and wear comfy shoes.  I’m serious about shoes.  Don’t spend all that money to get somewhere and then be thinking about your feet the entire time.

9.      Always order different food than your companion(s) and don’t’ be stingy when sharing.  One of those days you’re going to accidentally order pickled mackerel and your companion will have the perfectly roasted lamb and you’re going to wish you had gone 50/50 on previous meals.   Plus, sharing means you’ll get to try twice as many local foods as you would have otherwise.

10.  Always stay on the same side of tram/train/bus/car doors as your travel partner.  Or said doors will close, and one of you will have the money and the other will have the map and you’ll both have to figure out how to get to the hotel.  At 11:00 at night. (Amsterdam)

11.  If you’ll regret not doing it, do it.  Going to Egypt was expensive, potentially dangerous, required all sorts of paperwork and extra safety training for the military to allow us to go, but we would’ve been so sad to have missed it.

12.   If you don’t really want to do something but feel like you should, don’t do it.  For us, this is usually the museum we wandered through, glazy eyed.  

13.   It’s okay to not visit every church, castle, or museum.  Unless there’s something special about it you really don’t have to feel guilty for wanting to give it a skip.

14.   It’s your choice to enjoy a place or be miserable in it.  If you think the ‘American way’ is the only way or only eat your favorite brand of turkey on white bread you may want to seriously consider just saving your money by staying at home.  If you can handle a level of newness or discomfort and can appreciate things for what they are, your chances of enjoying a trip are much higher.  

15.   In most of mainland Europe (other than Germany) don’t be fooled when someone gives you directions that involve the “15 minute” walk.  You will walk for 20 minutes and then ask the next person who will reassure you that in “15 minutes” you’ll be at your destination, and this will repeat many a time until you have to get a cab or run the last two miles to get to your train station (Croatia).

16.   Be less judgmental.  Don’t make fun of the tourists, because you are one.  Don’t be disdainful that people have B.O. (Italy) or talk too loud (Italy) or don’t follow your rules of a queue (Italy).  Believe me, the Italians coming to the States are be more appalled than you could possibly be (the astounding amount of obese people, our version of bread and cheese, and wine not available in $5 carafes with dinner.)

17.  Try to fly into one city and out of another, taking a train or other public transport between the two.  It’s just such a better way to see more than one place when time is limited.

18.  Plan to be apart from your travel companion a little bit during a trip and definitely take a good break when you get home.  Needing a break doesn’t mean you don’t love that person!

19.   Enjoy the hiccups of traveling because no matter how annoying or tough they are at the time they may well be your favorite stories later!

20.   JUST GO!

 

LHR - JFK - CLT; our trip home!

Chris and Braxton waiting for the flight out of London.

 

We spent our final night in England at a nice hotel attached to Heathrow and were able to tube into London for a nice last dinner and some family photos that evening. 

Brax helping me figure out how to get back to the Tube Station.

Yummy last meal in London. 

New fav family photo.

The next morning I sent up a huge prayer essentially begging that Braxton not scream the entire 17-hour journey and then fed B while Chris loaded two luggage carriers with our 6 huge suitcases, car seat, stroller, and three carry-on bags.  Lucky Braxton ate breakfast and then fell right back to sleep in the Ergo carrier, where he would stay asleep for the next three and a half hours.  The kid won’t nap more than 48 minutes in his crib, but absolutely loves the motion of the carrier.   We made it from the hotel to the airport, through 45-minutes of customer support to get our bags checked, navigated the chaos of airport security (he slept through us getting him out of the Ergo, passing him between one another, then putting him back in the Ergo), changed some leftover Swiss Francs for Pounds, ate breakfast, rode the train to our terminal and walked to the gate, and then waited there for an hour before he finally woke up.   We had an amazingly stress-free morning, considering the circumstances! The stress level rose over time, though, as our flight was further and further delayed due to mechanical issues.  Braxton didn’t seem to mind though: he was getting all sorts of cuddles and attention J

6:03 AM leaving the hotel to walk to the airport with two luggage carts and the baby.

Waking up from his 3.5 hour nap, totally oblivious to the day's events.

We lived in England for three years and ended up with exactly 5 Pounds cash to our name!

Our flight finally took off, two and a half hours late.  Brax was asleep again in the Ergo as we boarded, and the flight attendants not only made us take him out (where he was completely strapped to me, and I had my seatbelt on) but also wouldn’t let him be in his airline-approved car-seat.  They wouldn’t take off until he was on my lap with the most useless loop of seatbelt extension around his waist.  On top of the day’s stress and lack of room for our bags over the seat, this absurdity put Chris just about to boiling point.    He managed to hang on, slipping only a couple sharp words to the lady next to him and the flight attendants, and Braxton (by the grace of God) stayed asleep through the entire fiasco.  I literally woke him up to feed as the plane took off (to help his ears) and then he went back to sleep for the next couple hours!  Brax was so happy when he woke up, and so were we.  Chris had enjoyed two bloody Mary’s (free drinks all flight because of the delay) and I was able to get quite a few chapters into a great book.   Our plane neighbors were friendly, warm, and supportive and truly made the eight-hour flight enjoyable!    

I'll have the pasta and a sparling water, please.

Chris had wisely left a four-hour layover at JFK but through a series of unfortunate circumstances (very late first flight, construction at the terminal, having to re-check bags) we missed our flight out of JFK by minutes.  I cried out of sheer frustration, which were the only tears shed by any of us to that point.   

Super happy Braxton made our standby wait in JFK so much more enjoyable.  He should've been asleep or at least cranky (we both were!) - it was after midnight London time. 

Our last chance to get to Charlotte that day was a flight a few hours later.  We were on the standby list but our odds weren’t good as there were a lot of others in the same situation.  The last stragglers boarded and there was suddenly commotion at the gate as a guy came off the plane, on his phone, saying his wife was running to the terminal.  The boarding agent said “SCHMIDT!” and we hurried down the jetway.  The gate agent slammed the door behind us, the man and his wife outside, having missed their flight.  I can’t even say how relieved I was to be on that plane (but did feel a wee bit bad for having ‘stolen’ that couple’s seats).  We ended up sitting next to the teenage daughter of the couple that missed the flight “their fault, we left our house too late!”  The flight itself was uneventful but by the time we disembarked poor Braxton had reached his limit.  It was 3AM London time and he was just absolutely exhausted.  He let out a few bloodcurdling screams while I scrambled to put the carrier on.  Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to pass out (and then pretty much stayed asleep until the next morning!)  It was surreal seeing mom in the luggage pickup area knowing we weren’t going back to England.  Thank goodness for those huge American vehicles – all of us plus all our things fit into Benson’s ‘Bruiser’.  We made it home, super loopy, and all slept great.   I’d consider a 23-hour travel day with a 4-month old a total success with only 10 minutes of tears between us!

 

Farewell, good England, you will be missed.

We’ve always found it tough to relocate, but this move has by far been the hardest to bear.  We’ve made some really incredible friends in England, have loved our village, and of course have really enjoyed being able to travel.  The toughest person to leave, though, is my cousin Katherine.  We weren’t that close before - she’s 8 years younger and we’ve never lived near one another prior to both ending up in England.  I’ve really enjoyed spending time with her over the past three years and developing as close a relationship as we have.  We had to say our goodbyes at the end of the 4^th of July weekend that we spent doing our typical routine: talking, baking, laughing, running, eating, and taking Bailey to Hinchingbrooke Park for Sunday Funday.  Poor Katherine stayed with us the night before Braxton learned how to sleep, so she suffered with us through an entire night of him crying every hour.  I promise it won’t be that bad next time, Binna!  It was so strange saying goodbye to sweet Aunt Kate and realizing she’ll now be an ocean away.

Katherine, me, Bailey, and Braxton in Hinchingbrooke Park.

Bailey enjoying her 'Sunday Funday' with all the other dogs at H'brooke Park. 

We scheduled our movers to come a couple months before we actually left England so our household goods would arrive shortly after we returned to the States.  In the meantime, the military provided us with ‘stick furniture’… which despite its ugliness and uncomfortableness, we were very happy to have.  Everyone who’s moved with the military will understand the creativity that kicks in for that interim period when you no longer have your things… trash bags suffice as black-out blinds, an old bamboo pole and string function as a drying rack, and cardboard boxes become trash and recycling bins. 

"Drying rack"(We love our BumGenius Freetime diapers, if anyone is interested.)

Creativity is also needed to try to leave as little food as possible.  Over the last few months we emptied the freezer and stopped buying anything except cheese, yogurt, eggs, milk, and fruit.  The veggies and potatoes all came from the garden, and we were able to use random bits and bobs to fill in the rest.   I should’ve taken photos… some of the meals were surprisingly good (wilted a bunch of chard + can of black beans + last few sprinkles of paprika + browned onion from the garden + straggler clove of garlic over a chunk of prepared polenta that had fallen to the back of the cabinet) and some didn’t turn out quite so great (can of sardines mixed into boiled potatoes with a bunch of spring onions).  Especially in the last few days we did our very best to eat every single thing the garden had produced.  Meals consisted of gigantic salads and boiled/baked/roasted/mashed potatoes.  It still hurt to leave the baby corgettes, masses of lettuce/onions/spinach/etc, and whole plot of potatoes untouched… hopefully someone uses them!

B-man checking out the spoils.

Katherine wins the ‘use the dregs’ prize, though.  I challenged her to use the leftover cabinet and fridge things: flour, sugar, jam, Belgian chocolate spread (thanks, Ang!), lemon curd, etc.  There are no measurements when Katherine bakes, which both drives my type-A side crazy and grudgingly finds impressive.  She made up three batches of cookies – chocolate-ish sugar sandwich cookies, lemon bars, and vanilla/orange thumb prints, all of which were really tasty.  Chris stress-ate 90% of them but at I’m thankful we didn’t have to throw all those ¾ empty jars away! 

Aunt Kate showing off her creative baking skills.

The next week included goodbyes with our friends the Stewarts, who helped us drink some of the alcohol odds and ends as we chatted until late in the evening.  That Friday Chris took Bailey to Heathrow to send her to mom’s house (aka doggy paradise) ahead of us.  I also had my last haircut with the gorgeous Cheryl… yet another person I’m sad to have to leave.  The thought of finding a new hairdresser shouldn’t seem overwhelming, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg on all the life things we’ll have to re-figure out in our new locale.

Our final week was especially full of ‘lasts’.  We were blessed with absolutely gorgeous weather for our last Friday swim at Hinchingbrooke Park… we just showed up to chat and say our goodbyes, having vowed to never swim with a wetsuit again!

Friday nights at the lake.  We did a lot more talking than swimming this year!

The next morning, sweet Holly watched Braxton so we were both able to participate in our final Saturday Park Run at the same park.  It was a bittersweet time, as it’s always fun to see everyone, Chris hit run #50, and we got a shout out, but was quite sad to think about not having that be a part of our lives anymore. 

A few hours later, again at the same park, our Tri club had its annual club BBQ. We watched as the Juniors ran a marathon relay around the park and ate lot of yummy food and cakes. 

Leave it to the Spanish dude to cook a paella for a BBQ :) (It was delicious, thanks Ricardo!)

 

Coach Andy explaining the Junior's marathon relay.

So sad to say farewell to Andy & Deb and the Wren family.

The Sunday held another BBQ send-off by our NCT (prenatal class) friends.  I’ve been so thankful for their friendship during the tough first few months of Braxton’s life and am sad to no longer be able to watch their babies grow.

Andy &Ali's daughter Madison; Michaela & Dan's daughter Daisey, our Braxton, and Nic & Andy's son William..

Chris’ last official day at work was Tuesday the 15^th.  The dental clinic threw him a very sweet goodbye lunch, where LtCol Fair said some really kind words about Chris' work ethic and positive influence over the entire med group before coining him.  I was totally surprised that he shed a couple tears, and then was even more surprised when LtCol Fair called me up and also coined me!  NOW I know how to ‘accept’ the coin (by a special handshake), but at the time had no idea and definitely made it awkward by hugging her.  I’ve come a far way from saluting the gate guard coming on to base the first time six years ago (note to everyone reading: don’t EVER do that as a civilian) but apparently not quite far enough.  Hehe.

Base architect slash workout fiend (and friend) Emmanuel.

Chris with LtCol Fair.

I was coined as well!

Some of the hardest farewells were to our great friends the Leaches and the Paynes.  The three of our families landed in England around the same time and as often happens in military communities, we were all looking for new friendships.  Randy and Courtney Leach and their kids Andrew, Luke, Adam, and Lacy grew to become an amazing extension of our family.  Although they’ll never be replaced, we hope to make friends as dear in North Carolina.  We’re a little nervous going to a location without the people turnover… will people be open to allow new friends into their lives or will they already be firmly established in their own friendships? Ryan and Angela Payne and their kids Rooke, Gretchen, and Bridgette lived just across the street and also became the dearest of friends.  I’m so thankful especially for Angela for being such an example to me of a patient and kind mother.  She and Courtney were so…. real.  And zero drama.  I love them!

Me and Angela at the neighborhood playground.

 

Rooke, Gretchen, and Bridgette (who LOVES 'Baby Braxton').

 

We had a sweet walk around the neighborhood that last evening in our house on Horseshoes Way.  As usual, Braxton was really, really excited whenever we passed a tree!

Chris and B at our street sign.

"Uncle" Jim's garden absolutely put ours to shame. 

 

The next morning was chaotic.  We woke up, the stick furniture was picked up at 8, we cleaned and packed until the housing folks came to get our keys at 11.  Chris dropped me and Braxton off at our friends the Gregory’s house while he had his ‘final out’ appointment and dropped off the rental car.  We ate a hasty lunch (cheesy eggs paired with some amazing beer from the Gregory’s own trip to Belgium) and were picked up by the courier at 2:30.  The whirlwind over, all three of us fell asleep within minutes and were awoken by the courier as we pulled up to our hotel in London!

Me and Sarah squeezing out the last couple minutes of hang-out time before we went to London.

And I’m usually not one for quotes but:

May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of his hand. ~Irish Blessing

No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other’s worth. ~Robert Southey

4 months of Braxton!

Now that I sleep, I smile a whole lot more!

I haven’t had much energy to write about Braxton and his milestones, which we’ll probably come to regret.  That said, there aren’t a whole lot of fun memories to write about from his first few months.  Whether it’s his personality or from the trauma of the first few weeks, Braxton cried a lot those first three months.  He’d SCREAM every time his diaper was changed, anytime he went into the car, if he wasn’t fed every couple hours, and for just about any and all reasons.  Looking back, I think the majority of the tears were because he was overtired.  At night he would sleep fairly well – he’d go down for a couple 3 to 4-hour stretches.  During the day, however, he literally wouldn’t sleep.  At about 2 months we realized that a lot of his crankiness was due to lack of sleep but it still took us a while to help him figure out how to get to dreamland. No amount of swaddling, shushing, patting, rocking, holding, swinging, or walking seemed to help. 

She did not solve all our problems.

 

The only technique that worked was to press him to my chest, forcing a dummy (pacifier) into his mouth while he screamed for a few minutes until realizing the pacifier was there. He’d suck on it for a while and then fall asleep enough for me to put him in his crib.  This was better than letting him try to fall asleep on his own, which for the couple days I tried he took zero naps.  I wish the car was the magic ticket back then, but instead of falling asleep like I thought most babies did, he would scream from the second his car seat clicked into the base until the second I un-clicked it at the destination.  It was a stressful couple months, let me tell you!  Almost four months into his life I reached a snapping point.  Although it was getting easier to get him down for naps (although they were consistently 45 to 48 minutes in length, no more), the nights regressed to the point we were getting up every hour or two to try to get him back to sleep.  Nursing always worked, but I was exasperated to be the only one who could make him sleep.  I snapped one Saturday and told Chris to go buy some formula, because there was no way I was going to nurse him that often.  I agree with the ‘sleep deprivation is torture’ idea.  I could feel the darkness of depression starting to creep in… or was it just overwhelming exhaustion?  In any case, I wasn’t enjoying Braxton like I should’ve, Chris and my relationship was starting to suffer, and poor Braxton wasn’t getting any restful sleep!  We’re extremely lucky to call a great primary care physician (Randy) and an equally great pediatrician (Chris M) friends, so we enlisted their expertise.  They both said the same thing, which is controversial these days…  let him cry it out.  Chris M said to go in and check on him every 5 to 10 minutes, and reassured us we weren’t going to permanently scar him.   Randy agreed.  This, coming from two docs (who between them have six amazingly well-adjusted, friendly, respectful, self-confident kids) made me feel confident in our decision to let Braxton cry a bit that night.  And he did cry, for 19 minutes before falling asleep.  Then, at 11:00 (his normal first wake-up time to eat) he cried for another 30 minutes.  After that, he slept until 1:00 (I fed him) and then slept until 5:00 the next morning.  The second night?  Two minutes of grumbling, then down for 6 hours, when I fed him and he went down for a couple more hours.  Third night?  Not a peep.  Slept for 8 hours, ate, then slept again for a couple.  I am a different (read: better) person, and Braxton is so much happier through the course of the day.  I honestly feel that he’s empowered to not need us to sleep.  Since that day two weeks ago, our little monkey has literally put himself to sleep every night since and slept as much as 9 hours at a stretch.  Naps work the same way… we put him down when he looks sleepy or yawns and usually he turns to his left side, palms himself on the forehead and then slides his hand down until his thumb finds his mouth.  The thumb is his magic soothing tool, and as much as Chris should be against it (being a dentist and whatnot) and I should be wary (I sucked my thumb until I was seven), we’re both so happy he found that thing!  We were never against using a pacifier, but Braxton just didn’t keep one.  I’m writing this and about three other blog posts after a night of 8 hours of sleep… not a coincidence that I now have the energy to do these kinds of things!  I don’t care to have the cry-it-out debate because as much as I would’ve loved to not need it, for us it was the very best option and I don’t regret it for one second.  Hopefully the docs are right and he won’t turn into an axe-murderer!   

Thumby thumb thumb thumb (7 hours straight sleep)

Dad walked out of the room and this is what he came back to.

Mom took a shower and found me like this on the bed!

I mean, c'mon.  He now sleeps anywhere.  (Don't be distracted by the gorgeous stick furniture.)

Yesterday he fell asleep on a towel under a shade umbrella at a noisy public pool and another mom said to me “wow, my kids wouldn’t have ever been able to go to sleep like that.”  Go Braxton!  Now if only we can get those naps longer than 45 minutes…

At four months, in addition to finding his thumb and starting to sleep, little man decided that having his hands in his mouth was THE best thing in the world.  He manages to fit his entire fist in his mouth and uses the other hand to push it in further.  Everyone’s telling us he’s teething.  He also likes to be standing more than anything and really just needs our hands to balance him.  About two weeks later he all of a sudden started trying to grab at things to put in his mouth and also figured out how to extend his arms to do a baby pushup.  Two days ago he suddenly started making a noise that sounded like a fake cough for a few hours, then by the end of the day it had turned into a true “ha ha ha”.  He is grinning and laughing so much now!  When he’s being read to he’ll either listen intently, try to eat the book, or (most often) ‘talk’ over you the entire time.  He’s such a social monkey! Today, at 4.5 months, Braxton rolled for the first time from his back to his tummy and not two hours later rolled for the first time from his tummy to his back.  It was fun to have witnessed both of those events!  His absolute favorite thing in the entire world, though, is trees.  If you walk him under a tree, even in the grumpiest of moods, he’ll gasp, his eyes go wide, and all four of his limbs start to flail.  It’s hilarious.  This parenthood thing is really starting to get fun.