The Family Road Trip: A Unique Adventure in Chaos

Menu: I’ll Turn This Car Around

By Jamie Rivers

There lies a once-favorite grey-and-teal car seat in a dumpster behind a gas station on I-95 North, somewhere in North Carolina. I know this because I tossed it there myself, while my kids sat on the curb enjoying popsicles, and my partner attempted to clean up the aftermath of a car sickness episode in the back of our SUV with baby wipes (which is like trying to slice steak with a plastic knife). Disposing of a car seat isn’t a decision I make lightly, but trust me, this one was past the point of saving. We were just an hour from home, a bit sunburned and blissfully exhausted after a week at the beach. Then it happened—a volcanic eruption from the back seat. It began with a burp, as they often do, prompting my partner to switch on the blinker and steer towards the exit ramp.

I felt like we were due for some good luck when we pulled into a gas station surrounded by a field of daisies, a charming touch of rural America. After our best efforts to clean the car, I took the kids to play in the field—amazing how my son could cartwheel now that his stomach was empty—while my partner rushed off to the nearest Walmart to buy a new car seat for the final stretch home. Adaptability, it turns out, is essential in these scenarios. I’ve got a toolkit for road trip survival, but the most crucial element is the willingness to deviate from the plan: to stop, regroup, and grab gas station popsicles when the situation calls for it. Unlike an airplane, you can actually get out of the car. And you should.

Sometimes, road trips with four young kids go off without a hitch. Everyone naps, and we don’t run out of M&Ms. Other times, we find ourselves in a remote field, waving at truck drivers. During those moments, I’ve learned it’s best to signal the truckers for a honk, celebrate when they oblige, and remind myself that one day, all these little ones will grow up to be a table full of adults, sharing stories that roll into the night, rolling their eyes at my anecdotes.

That said, I still make every effort for a smooth journey. Before a road trip, I clean the vehicle and car seats. I ensure each child has their comfort item and water bottle within reach. I pack an overwhelming amount of snacks that they can open independently. I put pull-ups on any child who still wears them at night. I plan the route and look for parks to stop at—there’s nearly always a playground within a mile of an exit when I know we’ll need a break. I aim to leave at a time that aligns with the kids’ energy levels, ideally after a morning of outdoor activity.

Despite all this planning, I never forget that kids, cars, and traffic can be unpredictable. When I’m the only adult in the car, the back seat can turn into a chaotic battleground. I can’t play referee while my hands are firmly on the wheel and my eyes are glued to the road. Let the elbows fly back there; let them negotiate movie choices and share Nutter Butters. They’ll figure out how to help the toddler roll up his window since no one else can reach the button. These team-building exercises can be loud, but unless there’s a bodily function emergency or serious injury, I’m not pulling over. Bored? Look! There’s a truck carrying pigs—let’s cruise alongside it for the next fifteen minutes. Get creative, kids; form alliances, and do what you need to do—because for everyone’s safety, this mom won’t be turning around.

Of course, there are moments when I reach my limit. Once, on a four-hour trip, I was alone with the kids when the baby fell asleep just moments before we hit a traffic jam. I had on a pair of old sunglasses that kept slipping, regretted wearing short athletic shorts (hello, sticky seats!), and the driver ahead of me kept braking for no reason. When the baby woke up screaming, I may have shed a few tears. My oldest son, noticing my distress, said, “You’re doing great, Mom,” which only made my tears flow more. “Plus,” he added, “we’re almost there!” We weren’t even halfway.

I envisioned the destination, taking deep breaths like they taught in birth classes. No turning back now. As we passed the traffic blockage, I realized it wasn’t road work but an accident. I edged past, the toddlers wide-eyed at the fire truck and ambulance, relieved that our wheels were only metaphorically coming off. We were safe, buckled in a reliable car with a full tank. Would the floor be a rainbow of Cheez-Its and fruit snacks upon arrival? Would everyone be cranky and sore? Would I question whether traveling with small children is worth it? Yes, yes, and yes.

During that same trip, while taking a bathroom break, a kind woman at the gas station checkout said, “Don’t forget: the gettin’ there is half the fun.” I watched her smile at my children, who were busy fiddling with keychains and returning Sprites to the fridge after I shook my head. I realized she wasn’t just talking about this single journey; she meant the entire adventure, and I knew she was right: the gettin’ there is half the fun.

Jamie Rivers lives in Raleigh, North Carolina, where she writes and raises kids. Her work has appeared in various publications, and aside from family, her passions include the beach, a good story, and more.

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Summary:

Family road trips can be a chaotic yet memorable experience, filled with unexpected challenges and delightful moments. With proper planning and a willingness to adapt, parents can navigate the unpredictability of travel with kids, creating lasting memories despite the mess and mayhem.

Keyphrase: family road trip chaos

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