Vacation (and coping skills), all I ever wanted...
Reflections from baby's first big trip
I’d been warned by seasoned traveling moms before my recent trip to Florida. Their cautionary tales, although delivered differently, all fell under a single theme. “Don’t get your hopes up.” “Manage your expectations before you get there”. “A vacation with a baby isn’t a vacation - it’s a trip”. “You’re mainly there to make memories, not relax.”
I’m recounting this as if I’m critical of their words - trust me, I’m not. It was an incredibly helpful reminder that the management of my feelings is my responsibility and my responsibility alone. Yes, even therapists need to hear their own advice from others sometimes. But it did get me thinking about a parent’s meaning of vacation, along with some helpful therapy-driven tools I can use to embrace and enjoy my new reality.
For one, traveling with a 7 month old was an immediate reminder of the new restrictions on my freedom. I can’t just “get up and go” anymore; not for a solo walk, to try a new coffeeshop, or out for a drink, at least. Cute little spur-of-the-moment adventures require a plan now, and there was a learning curve playing it by her ear instead of my own.
Under times of stress (such as arriving to the airport on 4 hours of sleep and getting three different directives from three different TSA agents about our stroller with twenty minutes to board - yikes) the part of our brains responsible for planning, creativity, and executive functioning might shut down. This leaves us with only quick-fire coping skills, such as all-or-nothing thinking or rigid solutions. In an attempt to help us, our brain is trying to simplify the problem, but as a result, we end up unable to think outside the box.
In times of overwhelm like this, I’ve made it a practice to zoom in and zoom out.
Zooming in invovles the micro, here-and-now kinks that might be getting in my way. When I zoom in, I scan my brain for all-or-nothing and rigid thinking. These patterns can look different for everyone, but for me it shows up in black-and-white words such as “the only way”, “right now”, “not possible”. Behaviorally, I might have the impulse to completely cancel a plan or refuse help from others. And emotionally, I’m told, I get “this concentrated stare on my face like I’m fixated on something” (not bad for a therapist’s husband, huh?).
Zooming out is reminding myself of the big picture. What is my goal here? To make memories with my family. Is there really a crisis? No, staying up 90 minutes past her bedtime is not a crisis. Who can I ask for help? Literally anyone… they love that baby!
If I want to live a happy life - and model that kind of attitude for my daughter - I have to make sure my inside voices are matching what I value on the outside. It was tempting to abandon my plans for some solo time but instead, we adapted. We brought her with us wherever we could and involved help when help was available. I still have a little bit of a nervous twitch when I think about her staying up past her bedtime, but… no, I’m kidding, it was absolutely worth the extra giggles with her aunts, uncles and cousins.
It’s a beautiful experience to feel your baby starting to seep into the fabric of your life, to appreciate how perfectly she belongs and stop focusing so much on all the accommodation she’s required. And that’s the thing: for all the coordinating, uncertainty, extra communication with my family, I would trade anything just to keep waking up to this smile - not just on vacation, but every day.
