Confessions of a Brood-Bearing Road Warrior

I have a long history of traveling with children—my own and those of others. My wife’s sister, who lives in Birmingham, Alabama, has five girls between 6 and 14. We see them frequently. We also go places together.

Over the years, I’ve had some interesting experiences. On a flight from Birmingham to Dallas, I had an 18-month-old with a poopy diaper bouncing in my lap the entire way—all 88 minutes (I know this because

I was counting the seconds). From this, I learned a key rule about flying with kids: Always buy an extra seat—it’s well worth the expense.

Once, I flew to Birmingham from Orange County with my wife and our three boys, picked up my sister-in-law and her girls, rented a 15-passenger Dodge van and drove 553 miles to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I learned Game Boys and TVs with DVD players are worth their weight in gold. We stopped at every state line for a photo. And virtually every rest stop.

I’ve spent six hours in an airport with a five-month-old, singing “Wheels on the Bus” so many times my mouth felt like cotton. I’ve chased a 2-year-old from Terminal A to Terminal C at Dallas–Fort Worth, a distance of more than half a mile.

Recently, at La Quinta Resort & Club near Palm Springs, we stayed in a spa villa, 940 square feet of luxurious living space that includes a living room, a bedroom, a full kitchen and two bathrooms. My wife, Diana, and the baby got the bedroom, while Justin (7), Conner (4) and I shared the living room sofabed. I know: Party on.

At night, the concierge got us a babysitter. We ’rents had a fabulous seafood meal at Azur. It was a progressive “chef’s tasting” that begins with marinated fluke ceviche and ends with sautéed black bass and roasted Maine lobster—and with no flying forks, knocked-over glasses of milk or food fights. I felt that dishes like smoked salmon and Iranian caviar croque-monsieur would have been wasted on little palates more amenable to a couple of bologna slices.

At La Casa del Zorro Desert Resort in Borrego Springs, we stayed in another two-bedroom casita, with a private pool. That would have been enough to guarantee a fun family vacation (I’m getting quite used to sofabeds), but the real treat here is that the resort has an arrangement with the nearby state park and its Junior Ranger Program. Kids between 7 and 12 can explore the park. It’s a great way to tire out anybody’s progeny.

We’re making plans for another trip soon, and the options are limitless—almost as limitless as the repeating chorus to “Wheels on the Bus.”

—T.K.A.

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