I’ve had many people ask me just what does 31 hours in the car by myself with two kids look like? Take a gander:
It wasn’t pretty but certainly was functional. I packed oodles of snacks, DVDs, DS games. travel easels and books (see the full list of activities here), which I plopped in a large laundry basket in between the kids’ seats for easy access.
We caravanned with my parents from Sandpoint, Idaho to Calgary and stopped in Sparwood, British Columbia to check-out “The Titan,” the world’s largest truck.
I couldn’t have asked for my kids to be better behaved and our final seven hours in the car were seamless except for two factors:
1) The Hail Storm.
We’ve had pretty great weather the entire trip with the exception of a stretch of road leading into Nanton, Alberta when we passed through a horrendous rain/hail storm. At one point, the hail was pounding my windshield so quickly my windshield wipers couldn’t keep up and my 70-year-old father didn’t slow down. As I sweated profusely (and in places I didn’t know I could sweat), the only reassuring words were from Hadley: “I CAN’T HEAR OUR MOVIE!”
Remind me not to bring her along when in extreme diress.
2) The U.S.-Canadian Border.
I’ve traveled with my kids to Canada many times by myself but never by car. When flying, Customs requires I provide a notarized letter from Jamie stating I have his permission to take the kids out of the country.
Since I was driving this time, we called the border to ensure I didn’t need the letter. They assured me I was fine but I was still paranoid (I’ve spent many past lives being detained in the “Taliban room”) so I schooled the children prior.
“Now Bode and Hadley, when we get to the border, you need to tell them that Daddy is coming later.”
I didn’t tell them any more than they absolutely needed to know. I figured dropping the word “attempting kidnapping” could lead to trouble but as it turns out, trouble is what I got by withholding information. We waited about 45 minutes in line at the border and when it was finally our turn, I pulled up to the Customs officer who initially looked friendly.
Him: “Hello, Ma’am. Where are you traveling today?”
Me: “Calgary.”
Bode: (Frantically Interrupting) “OUR DADDY IS COMING ON THE AIRPLANE LATER!”
From there, our easy-going exchange turned suspicious. He peered into the car at Bode and Hadley.
“Ma’am, what is your license plate number?”
“Err…. I can’t remember.”
“Please step out of the car.”
After a painful interrogation, we eventually crossed the border but I learned an important lesson. When relaying important information to the kids, I need to disclose, “Only speak when spoken to.”
Come to think of it, I’ll make that our family motto.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 