Traveling Without Diapers
by Ruth Lorson
I love to travel, and I love adventures.
When we announced my pregnancy, other people predicted that my traveling days were numbered. My husband and I smiled, knowing the naysayers had no idea the level of our determination. Surely travel was still possible; it would just take a bit more planning.
“At least no one is shooting at us,” was my husband’s response as I burst into tears during one trek across the country.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. He had a valid point, but our adventure had gone south - literally.
We were sitting in an airplane on the tarmac during a freak ice storm in Dallas. For three hours. My super-active 10-month-old son was thrashing and kicking in a space that felt smaller than a sardine can. The Cheerios stash was low. Every toy had lost its appeal. And I had run out of diapers!
Whose bright idea had it been to travel with an infant? We were crazy parents intent on not letting a mere baby limit our travel plans. Now that I was trapped in this airplane, my travel plans were definitely limited. I was ready to take a serious vow. “I solemnly swear to never fly again with a baby as long as I live.” Then I remembered I'm married to a pilot. I might need to tweak that vow just a bit.
I once heard God’s will defined as “what I would choose if I had all the facts.” Indeed, much of life would change with a different perspective. Sitting in an airplane with a squirming baby, I can see only a tiny piece of the picture. I need another perspective.
“You know, it actually could be worse,” my husband said as he began to list everything that was right with our world. I didn’t appreciate the Pollyanna family moment at first, but I listened nonetheless.
Finally, our plane was next in line - but I wanted to go back to the terminal. I had run out of diapers, with several more hours of traveling still to go. I looked in the diaper bag one more time. There in the bottom of my bag I found it; that one lonely diaper reminded me that God was looking out for us. Then the engines roared and we moved toward the runway. We finally ascended into the clouds, leaving the snow and ice behind.
Now that my son is two, his traveling adventures are teaching him to be flexible, spontaneous and adventurous. He appreciates change. I admit there are times when I tempted to stay home forever, but then adventure calls us and our family is off once again, building memories that will last.
And sometimes that includes a little extra time on the tarmac.
Ruth Lorson lives in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley of Virginia although she still misses the prairie views of her Midwest upbringing. She has spent time in retail sales and customer service although her training and passion is Interior Design. She is currently working on a challenging project with her husband - influencing their active toddler boy for the glory of God. She enjoys time with her family, bargain shopping, scrapbooking, writing and traveling (with plenty of diapers!).