Raise a glass—or ten

July 28, 2017 by Beth Shepherd

Ten years ago on my wedding day, I sat on a bar stool with a friend at Eleven Winery on Bainbridge Island and raised a glass of wine in honor of my last hours as a single girl. If you’ve been a faithful reader, you know what happened next. My friend’s cell phone rang. She got a distressed look on her face and “What should I tell Beth?” was what I heard her say until she got off the phone and told me our wedding officiate had been in a car accident, was on medication, and would be unable to take the ferry over from Seattle and perform our ceremony.

Sarah, one of the winery’s owners, offered me another glass of “whatever I wanted.” Then she crafted an email which quite literally saved our wedding. She posted a note on IslandMoms, a Bainbridge chat group, which read Urgent! Officiate needed in 3 hours. Miraculously, a guardian angel (Debbi!) responded to Sarah’s post, just in the nick of time, and made it to Morgan Hill Retreat where our ceremony would be held.

I’ve told this story ten times now and each time it boggles my mind. A trifecta of trouble! Six months before our wedding, the site where we’d planned to hold our ceremony and host our family cancelled due to a rarely used city ordinance pertaining to hosting events at a B&B. Then, only a month out from our wedding day, the B&B where we’d hoped to spend our wedding night cancelled when they suddenly decided to get out of the business. And on top of it all—this!

Despite the obstacles, our ceremony was lovely indeed. Afterwards we went for a row in the little boat (with only one oar–oh the irony), on the tiny pond, beside the cedar tree under which we stood as we said our vows. Inside the boat was a bottle of champagne. We raised a glass and toasted—to us—because we were married. Well…not quite.

You see our former officiate—the one who never made the wedding—also had our wedding license in her possession and we weren’t officially Mr. and Mrs. until that piece of paper was signed. For whatever reason, she was not answering her phone. In fact, she’d blocked all incoming calls.

We left for our honeymoon two days later and raised a few more glasses as we made our way from Florence, Oregon up the Oregon coast, stopping at wineries along the way, collecting bottles to be opened on our first anniversary and all our anniversaries leading to this one, our tenth.

Returning home to Seattle we got the news our wedding license was no where to be found, which meant we had to visit the court house one more time and ask for our license to be reissued. The clerk was in disbelief as we shared our tale. He said it was “the second worst wedding story he’d ever heard.” License in hand we took the ferry back to Bainbridge and met Debbi at Eleven Winery, my wedding gown stuffed into a backpack. What a relief to finally sign our license! Then we raised a glass to celebrate. We were now husband and wife. For real. If you look at our wedding license, it reads “joined in lawful wedlock on the 28th of July” and “witnessed on the 11th of August!”

When you take vows of marriage you make big promises to do all sorts of really important things. To be faithful. To be there for each other in sickness and health. To stand by each other for richer or poorer. But in that moment there’s no way to foretell the years to follow, no way to know if you’ll keep your vows, continue to love and cherish each other, or what fortune and misfortune you will face as a couple.

Over the past decade, we’ve had some wonderful adventures. Trips to China, Tibet, Baja, Hawaii, Paris, Amsterdam and London. The discovery of pursuits we enjoy (photography!). We’ve hiked and dined and explored. There’s been a lot of love, and we’ve each learned a lot about ourselves and each other.

Of course we’ve also had our share of hardship. Two close friends, two beloved cats, two of our parents, and one sibling have all passed away. There has been pain, literally, confronting bodies that age in unforeseeable ways. And let’s not forget major life transitions, like parenthood, that unfold unpredictably. Raising our daughter, an adopted child with unanticipated special needs, has brought its own set of challenges, challenges we never imagined when we took our first steps as husband and wife.

We’ve survived living in our dining room for four months with one elderly cat and without a working shower while our house was being remodeled, and endured enormous grief when our first attempt to adopt fell through at the last moment. When we said ‘I do,’ I know neither of us imagined the entirety of what we just signed up for!

Our marriage has been tested and tromped on, yet here we are ten years later. Together for better and worse.

Today, on our tenth anniversary, I will raise a glass to my husband, a good man who has stood by me and his commitments, even though I know there have been plenty of times when he sure wished he were somewhere else. And you can bet I’ll be raising a glass to us, to our marriage, to who we’ve become. As my husband has said on more than one occasion: We are a force to be reckoned with!

Here’s to ten years!

July 28, 2007-July 28, 2017

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

No me without her: A life before motherhood

May 11, 2017 by Beth Shepherd

I’d barely begun my story,“While we were in Tibet your dad and I saw…” when my daughter interrupted with,“Where was I?” My reply, “You weren’t born yet,” was the only clue she needed. Time to move on to a new subject. Another story about mom? Boring.

Trip to Tibet Himalayas 2008 Beth and Joel in Tibet

I understand children are the epitome of self-centeredness. A world they’re not in? No such thing. Private conversation with my husband? A question to another adult? She assumes I must be talking about her. From my daughter’s perspective, there’s no me without her.

Most of us know very little about who our moms and dads really are. Their lives before parenthood happened in another time, a different dimension. It’s almost impossible to imagine your mom was once a 6-year-old let alone a young woman with an independent life, goals, dreams, desires. How ironic considering many people become parents, in part, so they can “carry on” their lineage and be remembered. Yet the life our children remember is the life lived after they were born. We might look at high school photos of our parents with curiosity, but we are clueless about the entire story.

When my mother was almost 16, she was riding on the handle bars of a boy’s bike. She fell and broke her jaw. Doctors wired it together but my mother missed most of her friends’ ‘Sweet 16’ parties. This was a pivotal moment in my mom’s life. She’s told me this story numerous times. I know she felt deeply hurt and alone. I can tell this was one of the significant memories in her life. I’m pretty sure this is why she never learned to ride a bike. But that’s really all I know. Did her friends check in on her during her recovery? Did she like the boy whose bike she was riding on? How did he feel about what happened? Did he visit her? If they were dating, did they continue to date after the accident? These are details I would remember if it were my story. But it’s not. It’s my mom’s.

What my daughter doesn’t fully comprehend is I did have a life before motherhood. In fact because I became a mom later in life than most, I spent more Mother’s Days as just Beth, not Mama. During those years, the experiences I had formed who I became and influenced the choices I made, including becoming a mom.

Beth 2002 Beth, single, in 2002

Had I not spent a semester overseas during my junior year at college, I might not have fallen in love with international travel and international travel is one of the reasons I really wanted to adopt from another country. If I had married earlier in my life, I probably would have had a biological child. If our insurance hadn’t pulled out at the last minute, I might have given birth using a donor egg. Had our first trip to Armenia had turned out differently, I’d be the mother of a son not a daughter. If we’d decided to back out after another adoption fell through, I would not be a mom at all.

All these experiences, the minutiae, the twists and turns, the emotions and subtext. All these little details my daughter will never fully know or understand, make my story, pave the path that brought me to motherhood, the path that made me—for better and worse—the person I am today, the mother I am now.

The three of us 2016 A family of three in 2016

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms…no matter how you got there!

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

In like a lion: What the month of March (this one in particular) means to me

March 7, 2017 by Beth Shepherd

“In like a lion, out like a lamb” is the proverbial saying about the month of March. When March begins, it is still winter but by the end of the month spring has begun, even if it doesn’t feel that way in some parts of the world.

There are a few theories about the origins of this proverb. Astrology, for one. At this time of year, Leo is the rising sign, and by April it’s Aries. Then again, others have pointed out that Jesus arrives as the sacrificial lamb, but will return as the Lion of Judah. And sometimes this plays out with the weather as well. Calm at the beginning of March, followed by wild storms at the end. Weather-wise: false spring.

Any way you rearrange the proverb, or the weather, March is a particularly potent month for our family because March is the month we became a family (more posts on this in the coming weeks). My father was also born in the beginning March, so I often think about him as the month begins.

Unfortunately, this March has been a doozy for me and I haven’t published a post in five weeks! In the eight years (my blog anniversary is April 13) I’ve been a blogger, I’ve rarely missed a week. In fact, for many years I consistently published twice weekly! Why the lag? Well, I’ve been down for the count. Literally. I spent the month of December and early January recuperating from a partial knee replacement (doing well!) and then, a few weeks ago, I pinched a nerve in my back. Badly. I was in a lot of pain. I couldn’t walk very well and I couldn’t sit comfortably, which made blogging a tough row to hoe. So I didn’t.

But I’m on the mend and plan to do my best to make up for lost time and posts! Pain and hardship aside, I am also hoping to balance March 2017 out with some great news. Aside from our fifth family anniversary, I’ve got something in the works that I’ve been plugging away at for quite some time. Hope to post the big reveal soon!

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

A visit from the tooth fairy!

September 23, 2016 by Beth Shepherd

Guess which 5-year-old lost her first tooth on the first day of Fall?

And guess who wasn’t at home when it happened? Mama and Dada. We were out enjoying a lovely date night dinner. Luckily Bess, our daughter’s much beloved babysitter, was on site for the big event.

This particular tooth had been a topic of frequent conversation for over the past month, after it “got wiggly.” I was expecting it to come out any day, but not this day! Thankfully we were prepared for this momentous occasion.

Bess gave us her tiny tooth which we carefully placed in the special Tooth Fairy box. And then we went to sleep.

Lo and behold! When we all awoke in the morning, we saw a small piece of paper tied with a ribbon sitting beside the box. The paper was ceremoniously unrolled and this is what it said.

Tucked inside the box was a rainbow bracelet with one small locket (Hello Kitty, of course!). Inside the locket was our daughter’s tiny tooth.

Some tooth fairies take the tooth and fly away, leaving a gift behind, but our little one wanted to save the teeth she lost—just like her mama did—so we put out vibes for the same special tooth fairy to look over our daughter’s precious pearly whites.

At the breakfast table this morning, we had a long conversation. We talked about tooth fairies of yore and tooth fairies today. We told her what we’d each received when we’d left behind our teeth (Big Papa got a dime and I received all manner of coins). There were questions about the gifts, the teeth, what happens in other families. Lots of breathy excitement over this big life transition.

I still remember what a big deal it was to lose my baby teeth. And how badly I wanted to keep them. Which is why I still have mine, thanks to my tooth fairy, tucked away in a drawer, and nestled in the same slim gold Cigarillo box where I placed them many years ago.

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

Postscript: When I dropped my daughter off at kindergarten, her teacher told me she is the first in their class to lose a tooth and they “graph it.”

Becoming who we are: My daughter starts the journey to herself

September 15, 2016 by Beth Shepherd

My daughter entered kindergarten this week and also began swim lessons at a new location. Beginnings. Soon she’ll be introduced to reading, science, math, art, music, sports. Some of these activities will take hold and become her strengths. Others she might dislike or struggle with. A few might turn into lifelong passions that shape who she’ll become, her career, hobbies, identity.

Looking back, the things that brought the most joy into my life—and still do—took root in elementary school. By the time I was in 6th grade, I knew I was “good at” reading and art. I loved being in the water and took to swimming easily. I remember going down to the darkroom in our basement and being mesmerized by the magic of it all.

For some parents the transition to kindergarten can be hard, bittersweet. Separation, fewer hours together. As parents, it’s also the time when we hand over a lot of control to teachers and other adult mentors in our kids’ lives. I have my concerns. Most parents do. But overall, I’m excited for her.

I can’t wait for her to learn how to read. She’s always been over-the-moon about books. I hope she makes progress with her swimming lessons because she’s so fond of the water and we live in a place where it’s all around us. She loves animals. In school she’ll find out so much more about them and the world they live in, the world we live in. At various times she’s said she wants to be a farmer when she grows up, or a veterinarian, or maybe a baker. Who knows? Maybe she will settle on one of these. Most likely she’ll try on different versions of herself until she finds the one that suits her. My daughter is taking her first steps towards becoming who she will be, and I’m looking forward to seeing where the road takes her.

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

Jumping into a new chapter: My daughter starts kindergarten

August 25, 2016 by Beth Shepherd

This week my daughter attended JumpStart. Over the course of five days, kids who are about to start kindergarten go to their school for a few hours each day. While there, they get to meet their teachers and “practice” a few of the things expected of kindergartners. On the first day of JumpStart, when all the kids formed a straight line and walked out to their classroom, there was my daughter, sticking out her hand to shake the hand of the assistant principal. I was so proud of her, my little go-getter.

kindergarten daughter goes to school

Some of my own earliest memories date back to my experiences as a grade-schooler. I loved school. Reading, social studies, learning all sorts of things about the world. I think my daughter will too. She is very curious, smart and social.

Today, however, she faced a tough lesson. A little girl she used to play with was visiting from another state. We set up a play date and it didn’t go very well. My daughter wanted to play but the other girl didn’t want to play with her. She has come up against situations like this a few times, usually with kids she knows from preschool or nearby playgrounds, kids who’ve moved on to a different school or a new neighborhood. I know this is something she will confront over and over again.

So I talked with my daughter about friendships and how even if there are some kids who don’t want to be friends with her, there will always be others who do. I told her to focus on the kids who do want to play with her and not spend too much time thinking about those who don’t. We named a few of the friends she plays with now who were also at the playground, other friends she has who weren’t there, along with a couple kids at her new school who have already shown an interest in her.

Looking back at the many years I spent in school, and all the things I learned, I am reminded the most important lessons didn’t come from a book. I recall the sting of rejection, of wanting a certain person to like me, to want to be my friend or date me and how awful I felt when they didn’t return my interest. I spent too many hours worrying about what was wrong with me, what I could do differently to “get them to like me.” Should I dress the way they do? Or listen to the music they like? Should I pretend to like football games when I would rather spend the afternoon kayaking in my canoe at the lake?

Along the way I made more poor choices than I care to admit. I wish I’d felt more self-confident, that it was okay if I was picked first for the spelling bee but last for a softball game, and it didn’t matter if my “hip-huggers” didn’t fit like they did on the “popular” girls who were slimmer-hipped and less curvy than me. I could have saved myself a lot of grief!

I don’t know how to get this message, one of the most important in life, across to my daughter. I never talk about whatever insecurities I might have about my appearance in front of her. I try to overhype her strength, smarts, and tenacity. The other day she said to me, “Don’t I look pretty today?” because she was wearing a fancy dress and I responded, “You look pretty every day. Your dress is lovely, but you are a beautiful girl inside and out no matter what you are wearing!” This is the absolute truth, except I know that truth will get twisted, by her peers or ads that emphasize you can’t be pretty unless you wear this or look like that. There will be pressure to be pretty over all the other qualities that matter so much more.

Which is why we also talk a lot about positive qualities in people, how it’s better to be caring and how people don’t like it if you’re sassy or mean. I’ve told her when she’s at school, if other kids are mean to her she should walk away, and if other kids are mean to someone else–even if they say mean things when the other person isn’t around–you should still walk away, or tell a teacher. We focus on what it means to be a good friend.

One of the things I looked forward to as a mom was the chance to experience all of this again. I wanted to see my child navigate her way through school, friendships, learn about herself and the world. It’s not always easy, whether you’re experiencing it yourself or watching someone you love. Sometimes, in fact, it’s downright painful. But you know what? That whole messy, crazy, mixed-up world we live in? That’s life.

kids kindergarten

Here’s to a new chapter!

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

When life gives you lemons, write a good story: The wedding that almost wasn’t

July 28, 2016 by Beth Shepherd

Imagine a beautiful summer evening in the Pacific Northwest, the sun setting behind the Olympic Mountains. Guests are seated, waiting for a wedding to begin. Finally the music begins and the bride appears, a vision in white. Eyes tear and hearts beat fast with anticipation and excitement. Before long, the couple is married and post-wedding festivities begin.

Inevitably something always goes wrong. The groom can’t put the bride’s wedding ring on her finger. The flower shop confuses the order and bouquets meant to arrive in shades of red and gold are instead lavender and white. Most big events rarely go down without a hitch. As for our wedding? The hitch was we almost didn’t get hitched. But we sure got a good story.

The truth is, some of life’s best stories rise from the ashes of near disasters. Take a look at the photo above. See what’s missing from our wedding boat–where we spent our first moments together as husband and wife? One oar, the perfect metaphor for our wedding.

First there was Bed and Breakfast where we’d initially hoped to hold our wedding, house our immediate family and spend our wedding night. Six months before the wedding, we got an email from the owner telling us how very sorry she was but she could no longer host us. The City Council on Bainbridge Island, the destination for our impending nuptials, had decided to reinforce a previously unenforced ordinance. B&Bs could no longer host big events on their property without paying a hefty ($5K if I recall) permit fee.

And there we were, six months and counting down, with a caterer, florist, photographer and officiate all confirmed–for July 28, 2007. Facing the task of finding a site, at this late date, with our date available, seemed impossible. But find one we did, when–out of the blue–I asked the owner of a B&B in Poulsbo, where good friends were vacationing, if she might be open to hosting a wedding on her property, a lovely farm with a small pond, views of the Olympics, come chickens and a llama or two. She said yes! We also found another B&B nearby where we could spend our wedding night. Hallelujah! We were back in business.

Then, one month before our wedding the B&B where we hoped to spend our first night as husband and wife emailed us to say how very sorry they were but they’d decided to retire from the B&B business altogether and so we would need to find another location to stay on our wedding night. The owner of our new wedding site immediately sent out emails to all her contacts in the B&B world and, miraculously, she found a spot…a room above a garage in a brand-new B&B. We thanked our lucky stars we wouldn’t be sleeping in the barn with the llamas.

Finally, the pièce de ré·sis·tance–OUR WEDDING DAY–and the moment my husband-to-be received a phone call from our officiant telling him how very sorry she was but she wouldn’t be there to officiate! T-minus three hours to our ceremony. Yes, you read that right. Her story was she’d been in a car accident, was on medication and therefore could not drive to the ferry. I was in Eleven Winery on Bainbridge, blissfully amidst a wine tasting prior to my appointments to get my hair and makeup done.

It’s hard to really sum up what goes through a bride-to-be’s mind when she’s face with the reality that her wedding might go belly up. I’m sure the number of times this happens is infinitesimal. But it happened to me. I felt angry, ripped off, bereft. Was the universe trying to tell me something…like maybe I wasn’t destined for marriage?

But sometimes fates conspire for, rather than against you. The winery owner’s wife, who was conducting the tasting, came up with the brilliant idea (I am eternally grateful to this day) to post an “Urgent: Officiate needed“ post on a the island’s moms’ website (I love you mamas!!). We got two responses. One respondent, Debbie, had performed only one wedding for a coworker but read the posting and wanted to ensure we got married. T-minus 30 minutes before the ceremony, she appeared at our venue–our officiate angel–adorned in a robe and stole, ready to help us say “I do.” Tears streamed down my face in disbelief, to the chagrin of my makeup artist. Maybe we were to be married after all.

Clouds had filled the sky, threatening rain on one of the four weekends each year deemed to be the “most likely to be sunny” in the greater Seattle area. Yet another ominous sign. But at 5:30, the time we’d set to begin our ceremony, the sun burst out, and I walked towards the light and the man I love.

Forty-eight guests, a few llamas…and one heron, watched from the sidelines as we said our vows and pledged–to stand beside each other–for better or worse. And then…

WE WERE MARRIED!

I wish I could say all’s well that ends well, but I should add that our officiate also “could not find” our marriage license so we were sort of married in the eyes of our beloved family and friends, but not really married–at least not until either our ill-fated officiate found the license and we could sign and file it with the City of Seattle. If we couldn’t pull that off in 30 days they’d have to issue us a new one. And if we failed in this regard, well then we’d have to go “get married” all over again.

Off we went on our honeymoon, sending increasingly desperate emails: Have you found it yet? We wanted that license…and our deposit back (Did I mention our officiate was supposed to be our “day of” wedding coordinator as well?). Our emails went unanswered until we finally said we’d take our ex-officiate to small claims court. She agreed to meet my husband (wait, he wasn’t really–yet) at his place of work at 5:00 on a Friday. Amazingly enough, she materialized, with a check in hand to cover our deposit but…no license.

On Monday, there we were, back at the City of Seattle’s Marriage Licensing Department. We need our license reissued. The empathetic clerk told us it was “the second worst story he’d ever heard.” I hate to think what might have been the first.

We FedEx’d our license to Pittsburgh, where our best man lived, so he could sign it. He signed and FedEx’d it back. Then we made a date with our new officiate to meet us at the winery and sign our marriage license. I stuffed my wedding gown into a backpack and me and my Mr-to-be hopped on a ferry to Bainbridge Island. I did a quick-change in the bathroom and there we were–signature, signature, signature. TA-DA. We were married!! For real. Our wedding license, now framed, hangs on our bedroom wall. The date of our ceremony: July 28, 2007. The date we got a “witness”: August 11, 2007.

I’ve shared this story countless times with friends, relatives and strangers. One version or another has appeared on my blog, nine years running. And yet every time I tell our story, it blows my mind because it’s just so crazy, so completely inconceivable, that had I not actually lived it, I would never believe it was true. Our wedding–the wedding that almost wasn’t. But our story? I’ve never heard one better.

Happy Anniversary to us! Nine years and counting.

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

Missing Maggie: The role pets play in our lives

June 24, 2016 by Beth Shepherd

A year ago today I said goodbye to my beloved cat, Magnolia. I miss Maggie’s companionship and her sweet, gentle spirit, and I think about her nearly every day. Spending 20 years with any living being is a very long time. So, yes, this is a post about my cat and a post about pets in general, and the ways they change our lives and us.

Maggie, at 20

I know all my readers aren’t cat lovers, or maybe even pet lovers–pet ownership is not for everyone. But for those of us who’ve let a pet into our home and heart, there is nothing in this world like the love we give to them and get back in return. And some of them, like my Maggie, make an imprint on our souls that remains with us for life. I’m not saying people in our lives don’t fill a deeper, more significant role because for most of us (though not all of us), they do. Yet there is something completely unique and irreplaceable about the bond between pets and the people who love them.

This is why animals are often used to heal and help, why people train dogs to guide those with sight or mobility challenges, or bring cats and dogs to hospitals and rehabilitation facilities for people to caress and hold. Studies have even proven our stress melts away and our heart rates slow (as do our pets!), when our pets are near.

I think pets bind families together too–their care, their antics are often a major topic of conversation. They give family members something to rally around. I’m sure I’ve spent more hours of my life talking about my cats than almost any other topic and I don’t feel the least bit embarrassed to say it out loud. I read the news, try to stay up-to-date on current events, take an interest in my husband and daughter’s daily doings, make time for friends and have many interests I’m passionate about, but those cats…they are a force in my life to be reckoned with!

Maggie (and Madison who passed away 5 years before her) was with me through several major surgeries, when I was housebound for a couple weeks. She was my companion through many years lived alone and a few break-ups that really threw me. She didn’t seem to mind when I soaked her fur with my tears. Maggie slept in my bed every night, and then the bed I shared with my husband. She joined us at the dinner table most evenings and her constant chirps, mewps and brrrps, back and forth with us, felt like a conversation. She was with me from the day I met my husband, through ten years of our relationship, our failed and then successful adoption, the death of my father, my sister and two of my closest friends. Honestly, she was my right-hand gal for most of the significant events in my life.

So when Magnolia died, I was bereft. Our house felt eerily empty and for days I was sure I would see her out of the corner of my eye, making her way across the kitchen or sitting out in the garden she loved so much. I made it almost a month without a cat in our house and then when I didn’t think I could stand it anymore, I went out and brought home two kittens. These two are nothing like Maggie. They are more crazy, destructive and much less tolerant than she was, even as a kitten. Sometimes that makes me miss her all the more. Mischievous behavior aside, I am happy to have them around, and they are only one-year-old, so if they make it to 20 like she did, I’ll probably have a different tale to tell.

If you have a senior pet at home, give them an extra hug and a treat for me today. Even when they miss the litter box, chew up your favorite shoes and wake you up in the middle of the night, our pets bring immense joy to our lives. And here’s to you Maggie Moose–I was 20 years lucky to have you by my side.

In memory–Maggie–forever in my heart

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

It ain’t easy being Dada: Happy Father’s Day

June 19, 2016 by Beth Shepherd

Any man can be a father but it takes a special person to be a dad.

Father's Day

Being a dad is a complicated adventure. When to nurture and love? Where to set boundaries and rules? How to instill morality and values? How to know when it’s time to have fun and when it’s time to draw the line. Before you’re in the thick of parenthood, you imagine days with your child at rapt attention as you share the wonders of the world. You daydream about laughter and smiles, spending hours of playtime together.

But being a dad means you will also experience tears and tantrums. You will have to grit your teeth through difficult days and dole out tough life lessons. You will wind up making decisions you know are right but that your kid won’t be happy with. Being a dad ain’t easy! That’s why I have so much respect for the men who really commit to fatherhood and give it their all.

To my husband and all the amazing fathers out there–you rock the Dada role! Where would our kids (and us moms) be without you?

Happy Father’s Day!

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

Three tricks to keep a squirmy kid busy on a plane

May 26, 2016 by Beth Shepherd

Picture this. You are on a plane, 35,000 feet in the air. You have hours to go before you reach your destination. Passengers are giving you dirty looks. Your patience is wearing thin and you worry you might lose your mind (and your temper) before your flight is over. The cause? Your squirmy kid. What’s a traveling parent to do? Zip ties? Just kidding, although my husband and I have discussed this option more than once.

Doesn’t she look calm, sweet and innocent?

I am writing this post because I am the mom childless adults fear. The mom of the very loud, very active, and very impatient child. The child who, I might add, never naps on a plane (okay, once, when we adopted her and returned from Armenia). One of the worst scenarios I can imagine is putting this child in an enclosed metal tube, holding her hostage in an uncomfortable seat, restricted by an equally uncomfortable seat belt. For hours. Just thinking about this makes me want to give up traveling, which is unfortunate because I love to travel.

Attempting to climb over the seat.

As a kid-free traveler for many years, I completely understand–sympathetic as one may want to be–how frustrating it is to have your seat kicked every ten seconds or find yourself in the row beside a screaming child. Now that we are parents, no matter how much I tell myself people ‘get it’–or at least those with kids get it–I still feel hyper-aware each time my daughter stands up and looks over the seat or screams for any extended period of time. There have been flights, more than one, where my husband has held her in a tight embrace as she kicked and hollered at the top of her lungs. Not much fun for anyone, including us.

Not child torture. Just having fun in the galley where we’ve spent lots of time.

On one of our trips, when our daughter was a toddler, we filled Ziplock bags with a lifesaver, earplugs and a photo of our daughter that read: I am 16 months old. Airplanes are new to me, so thank you for your patience if I make too much noise. We passed these bags out to the people in the rows beside, behind, and in front of us. People laughed and I felt like our gesture let us off the hook for anything that might follow during our flight!

You have been warned.

I have tried all sorts of tips that have been touted by fellow parent travelers, like giving my kid Benadryl in the hopes it would knock her out–nope, and antihistamines even make some kids hyper. I’ve brought along all sorts of toys she thought were a snooze…but, sadly, nothing that made her snooze. Every kid is different, of course, and you will want to make adjustments depending on the age of you kid (or kids), but here are three tricks we’ve tried to keep our squirmy kid busy on the plane.*

Inside that cute ladybug backpack? Ammo enough (we hope) for one flight’s worth of fun.

Backpack novelties

Right before our trip, I smuggle my daughter’s special travel backpack out of her closet and fill it with novel toys and games: new stickers, lacing cards, paper and crayons, a small puzzle, and magnet play boards like Magnetic Whiskers. Melissa & Doug On The Go Water Wow are also fun, “paint” without the fuss and muss, small and packable.

I do not let her see anything in her backpack until our plane is off the ground and at cruising altitude. The curiosity and anticipation is sometimes enough to hold her through the first 30 minutes. I cross my fingers and hope the goodies inside will keep her busy for the rest of the flight, if we’re lucky and if we dole them out slowly. You can get all sorts of cool geegaws and gadgets on Amazon.com, and Safeway, Walgreens, Bartell or The Dollar Store are all great places for toys on the cheap. Note: If you let older kids pack their own backpacks it’s smart to see what’s going in there.

Say ‘Hi’…whether you want to or not!

New videos and games

Make sure to bring your Kindle Fire, like the Fire Kids Edition Tablet. Load it with videos and games, preferably some they haven’t seen before or that are generally off-limits in your home except for special occasions. Like taking trips. We have worked the “You can watch Frozen!” angle on more than one occasion. Don’t have a portable device like the Kindle or a DVD player? Buy one. Now.

Videos should be accompanied by headphones, not earbuds which can easily fall out and might not cancel background noise for the kid and video noise for passengers sitting nearby. I have been on airplanes where I was subjected to more Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles audio in a few hours than I’d heard in a lifetime. Cowabunga, dude. One risk is that some kids, such as ours, will then talk very loudly, yell even, because their headphones make them unaware of the volume of their voice.

What gourmet dining looks like when you’re two.

Yummy snacks

There’s not a kid alive who isn’t wooed by a good snack, especially it’s a treat they only get on special occasions. Of course the caveat is that some kids, like ours, get pretty worked up from high-sugar snacks so this trick can backfire if you’re not careful. Plus, chocolate melts and little hands are in close quarters with a myriad of things that can easily be stained. Animal crackers, popcorn, and potato chips are a few that take awhile to get through. Having to reach inside the bag or box, eat and repeat extends the fun. Now is not the time to be concerned about nutrition and of course, and you can always supplement with apple slices, cheese cubes and raisins. Of course, a lollypop is never a bad idea, particularly during take-off and landing when sucking and swallowing can help open little ear canals.

One last bit of advice. Plan your flight in 15-minute slots. For a three-hours in the air you need around ten activities to keep little ones with short attention spans entertained. Take-off and landing are typically the “stars of the show,” which gives you a 15-minute reprieve on the front and back ends of your journey. We spent a lot of time on one flight discussing the wheel well while waiting for the plane’s wheels to descend!

Happy travels to all the moms and dads out there–and GOOD LUCK!

Bon Voyage!!

It’s all about the journey,

Beth

*Disclaimer: I did say “try.” Which doesn’t always mean we were successful.