The Truth about Traveling with a Baby…

This weekend Zianne and I made a quick jaunt to Texas. Our main reason for the trip was to attend an academic conference in San Antonio. I was selected to speak on a panel about the rhetorics of motherhood. It sounds fancier than it is, but nonetheless it’s a big conference in my field, so off we went, me and my eight month old travel companion, because she’s the one that gives me authority to speak on the rhetoric of mothers.

But you know I couldn’t get within a few hundred miles of my sister and my best friends without stopping to see them too. So our four days in Texas included three major cities… First, San Antonio for the conference. Second, Austin to see my sister. Third, Fort Worth to see my college best friends. I am forever grateful to my friend, Kristin, who drove from Fort Worth to San Antonio {about a four hour trek} to pick us up from the airport and personally escort us all around the great state of Texas for the weekend. A million smooches to her from Z and me.

If you haven’t heard yet, my baby is a gem. She is seriously an extra sweet gift from God. She rarely cries or fusses. She’s a great sleeper. She hasn’t encountered a food she doesn’t like. She smiles and waves at strangers on command. I seriously think God gave her to me as a giggly, pudgy message that I can, indeed, finish my PhD program after having a child. But here’s the thing about traveling with a baby. It is hard. Even when the baby is of the sweet Zianne Eileen category. I’m glad that I’ve gone on a number of trips with her, and I’m thankful she’s proven to be a flexible traveler so far, and I know traveling with children from the start pays off in the long run because they adapt well to different settings, etc. But whoooosh…. it is tiring. And on this particular trip, Zianne was battling some type of virus. I hurried her to the pediatrician hours before we left to discover she had an ear infection in addition to the whole cough/snot thing going on in her chest and sinuses. We picked up her meds on the way the airport and for the next two nights we slept in the same room where she made a wailing sound every time she rolled over. She never woke up, but I did. Every. Single. Time. She finally started feeling better about halfway through our trip, but she greeted every friend with snot running out of her nose and became hysterical if I tried to wipe it off. She really is a gem, I promise. She just has strong opinions about having her nose wiped.

Anyway… back to my point. I’m not complaining. I’m thankful my baby traveled like a champ despite not feeling well. I felt a little guilty all weekend as we toted her all around. In the car. Out of the car. Makeshift crib. Loud restaurant. Twisted car seat strap. Skipped nap. Skipped nap. Skipped nap. But you know what? It was worth it. It’s worth it to teach her how to be flexible. It’s worth it to visit fun places will a baby perched on my hip. And it’s so, so worth it to see Zianne interact with friends and family all over the world who love her so much. But y’all. I’m tired. I’ll be in recovery mode the rest of the week.