Ever since we had kids, my husband and I have confined our travels to road trips. It seems easier to cram all that luggage and gear and snacks and games in the back of my car than try and check it at the airport. I can’t imagine the luggage fees we would face with all our extra stuff.
The only downside to road trips is that my youngest gets car sick. When he was a toddler, one second he’d be smiling at you, and the next second, he’d be throwing up all over himself and his car seat. Now that he’s older, he at least can sense when he’s about to be sick and grab something to catch the flow. Last time, it was his Pokemon binder, poor kid. It’s a good thing all his cards are encased in plastic.
But even the threat of needing new upholstery isn’t enough to get me to the airport. There’s a certain freedom to driving. When the kids get bored, which happens about thirty seconds after we’ve backed out of the driveway, we can pull over and stretch our legs. We don’t have to wait in a security line or risk getting patted down by an overzealous agent. There’s zero chance our luggage will somehow end up in the car next to us and end up in Minnesota or some other far off place. We can pack delicious snacks or stop at any number of restaurants we see along the highway. The biggest drawback to driving is that it takes longer to get somewhere.
Lest you think I’ve never flown anywhere, I have. And I enjoy the part where I’m sitting in the plane and flying through the air. It’s the rest of the process that is such a hassle. The TSA seems to always pick our luggage to rifle through, leaving a friendly little postcard inside our suitcase to let us know they’ve been pawing through our underwear. I’ve been pulled out of line and directed to a secretive place off in the corner where I was patted down and had my purse searched. When the ticket agent in Cabo San Lucas scanned our tickets to fly home, he read the screen, made a funny face, and disappeared in the back room for a solid five minutes to make a super secret phone call, while we waited at the counter and wondered if we should find the nearest embassy. If you check in for your flight too early, they tell you to come back. If you check in too late, they get all upset. The whole system is too fickle.
So I’ll stick to these road trips for a few more years. If I can remember to pack an empty bag or two for my youngest, I think we’ll be okay. And if not, he can always hang his head out the window. That's what I used to do when I was a kid.