I want to start by thanking Cat for putting her virtual finger on something that had been pulsing in my brain but I hadn’t been able to see clearly or articulate. She commented:

I think this is exactly right: that many parents conscientiously think about how to create an atmosphere of comfort and security for their babies, and so they rightly hesitate to expose their children to anything that might interfere. Having been in the position where I would have sold my soul for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, I can understand that reluctance. I still remember getting irrationally angry at people who rang the doorbell or dared to call me on the phone during my infant’s nap. It was hard to relax while he was asleep because I was so nervous about something prematurely waking him up.

But I also think that the focus on creating comfort and security becomes, over time, something different — a hesitation to expose children to discomfort and change. I think it becomes a fear (on the parents’ part) of creating anxiety and insecurity in their children. And so, ever so slowly, a consciousness of routines and security morphs into an avoidance of difficulty and discomfort. Avoidance becomes a knee-jerk reaction. I listen when people talk about why they don’t travel, or wean, or make little Mary ride the bus, or have little Johnny take swimming lessons. The parents worry about exposing the kid to something difficult and unfamiliar; maybe the kid has expressed some anxiety about it. Maybe it will be hard and they think, “It’s not worth it.”

Let’s back up for a moment and think about the purpose of routines. Why are routines important? “Knowing what they can expect at various times during their day can make children feel more secure and in control. Particularly during the tumultuous years, routines often represent the only calm in life’s storm.” “Routines can help toddlers accept transition more easily, reducing the likelihood of resistance as they switch gears — from storytime to lunch, from playground to home, from blocks to bedtime.” (What to Expect: The Toddler Years, 228) For babies and toddlers, almost every experience is a new experience. They are inundated with sensory stimulation, changing physical and emotional responses which they may not be able to differentiate or express, they have to deal with the frustration of having needs with little control over how to have those needs met. The world is, indeed, tumultuous. Having the comforting presence of a loved one nearby and being able to predict which transitions (in location, activity, feeling, etc.) will happen at any given time allows the child to feel secure enough to explore the world, try new activities (walking, talking, eating new foods, pouring maple syrup on mommy’s passport), and challenge him or herself. The predictability of routines allow the child to face the unpredictability of new situations. Routines do not eliminate anxiety or uncertainty but they enable kids to cope with a little bit of anxiety and uncertainty. The point is not to avoid new, challenging situations but to learn to balance and mediate the new with the familiar. The job of a parent is not to protect the child by keeping him away from anything that might be difficult but to prepare the child to go out in the world and live a full life.

When W started to walk, like many kids, he’d take a few steps away from me, delighted with himself, then suddenly realize how far he had moved from his base of security and comfort. He’s trip over himself to get back to me, maybe nurse a little, and then proceed away again, a little farther each time. I was his home base — not me as a person, but the attributes and rituals he associated with me, like the nursing, the encouragement, the catch phrases I used, the smell of me. After growing accustomed to walking on our hardwood floors he’d go through the same process on grass, sand, noisy places, crowded places, etc.
If we think about how we want kids to be when they are adults, do we want them to shy away from anxiety, to shy away from the unknown, to avoid experiencing new things just because it makes them uncomfortable? If the answer is no, then we need to begin to teach them to reach out from the time they are young. We need to teach them to be able to walk away.

Some children are more anxious than others, but if your child is an anxious one that is all the more reason to start teaching him, from a young age, how to deal with that anxiety rather than be handicapped by it. I am by no means an expert on this subject; I can only share the results of my home experimentation.

My older son W is even-tempered and self controlled. I taught him not to press the buttons on the microwave by telling him to press some completely uninteresting portion of the microwave, and that was enough to allow him to redirect his impulses. He had exactly one temper tantrum, and up until I had my second son I secretly attributed all the good aspects of his behavior and temperament to my excellent parenting.

I think M may have been the deity's way of telling me how wrong I was. From the day he was born changes in temperature, an improperly fitted sock, or not being in the cocoon of my body would cause him to unravel. I was sincerely worried that he would never have a normal life. But dealing with his sensitivity didn’t mean just throwing up my arms and allowing him to avoid all sources of discomfort. I had to teach him, much more consciously than my first child, how to calm down. I taught him to take deep breaths, to count to ten, to retreat to our special corner to nurse. I also had to shape his expectations more carefully and consciously before sending him into a new situation. Before sending him to preschool I took pictures of his school, his classmates, and the activities he would do each day, and made a book that we read together in order to prepare him for what would happen. Although I still usually have to look him in the eye and tell him, “Calm down,” he can calm himself more easily and sometimes I see him take deep breaths on his own. He will always be the more easily rattled of the two but for that reason I try to be more conscious about what tools I can give him to help him recognize that about himself and deal with it. Not by avoiding the world, but by arming himself more carefully before setting out.

Perhaps I am more sensitive to M’s brand of sensitivity because I see myself in him. I am the kind of person who has to write down my address and phone number before ordering a pizza over the phone because talking to strangers sometimes makes my brain freeze up. I know what strategies I’ve developed to become a functional person and these are the strategies I teach M. Exposing him and W to small amounts of change and discomfort (balanced with routines and a sense of expectation about what is to come) is like giving them a vaccine. Their psyches wrestle with a weakened form of what will come later, when they grow up, and need to deal with adult uncertainties and experiences.

So (to get back to traveling): when I travel with the kids, I do consciously try to balance the kinds and amounts of stability and change in their lives. The routines of our everyday lives still continue when we travel. Waking and sleeping routines not only help the trip feel less unsettling but they also help with jet lag. We also have our travel routines, which include treats and rewards, which help set the atmosphere of excitement and smooth the more uncomfortable transitions. My physical presence is also a source of comfort and stability. I actually found it easier to travel with the kids when they were babies because the smell, warmth, and comfort of my body (and my milk) were the most important sources of security and comfort, so the babies had very little trouble adjusting as long as I was around and spending a lot of time holding them (even M). I have seen a lot of parents show up for a 15-hour flight without toys, snacks, and books. That’s just setting the kids up to fail, and that isn’t parenting, it is sadism (and masochism).

Cat’s comment touched on a fundamental reason why I travel with my kids. I want my kids to grow up feeling like the world is accessible to them; I don’t want them to push away their curiosities about strange and mysterious places and people because they feel worried or intimidated. I want them to grow up trying to stretch beyond the boundaries of the known, comfortable neighborhood and to know in a visceral way how to go out and be in someplace new. It doesn’t mean that I push them into situations unprepared; it means that I have to teach them, in word and action, how to prepare themselves. And the first step is to know how to handle a little anxiety and discomfort.

Traveling with Kids 1

Traveling with Kids 3

Traveling with Kids 4