The “social media” element of travel with kids truly looks magical. Kids laughing and running – just being kids – in front of gorgeous scenery, parents making the whole thing look effortless.

Here’s the deal, though… It’s not always magical. I wouldn’t change a thing, but there are certainly moments – even large aspects of trips – that can be hard with kids.

Trigger Warning: Vomit.

Fun Fact: On more than 50% of our travels far from home, my kids have thrown up on me. That equates to at least five family vacations (that I can remember), four different states, and two countries. (Although that second country doesn’t really count… we were in Ireland, and my daughter threw up a little bit in a cup in the car and handed it to me). I’ve been thrown up on in hotel rooms, AirBnB living rooms, at my sister-in-law’s wedding…

About the vomiting at my (incredible) sister-in-law’s wedding… (At least that kiddo missed the bride’s dress. Narrowly. It mostly landed on me, because I jumped us both backwards as soon as the vomiting started.) We happened to find out during that wedding that our son is allergic to pistachios and cashews!
KIDS COME WITH TIP: DON’T give your kiddos foods that are likely to be “allergens” for the first time on vacation. It was a rookie mistake. Looking back, I can’t believe I happily let him munch on the mixed nuts on the table 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️. Thank goodness I had baby Benadryl in my bag, and the hospital was only 15 minutes away.

Let’s take a moment and appreciate the sweet moment of the picture at the top of this page. My amazing daughter, age 2, and I… sweetly peering over the skyline of Chicago, at the top of the Willis Tower… It’s a beautiful picture, right? What you don’t know is that she threw up on me twice – both before, and after, this picture was taken. At. The. Top. Of. The. Willis. Tower. Now, the first time, I was caught off guard. She looked a little woozy to me, but we had just flown to Chicago, been riding the subway, walking around. I figured the trip just took a lot out of her. Little did I know the poor kid was coming down with the flu! Anyhow, 110 stories… ONE HUNDRED AND TEN STORIES later, my Woozy-looking kiddo gave me this wide-eyed look from her stroller, and I knew. I knew it was coming. I quickly unhooked her from her stroller but I wasn’t quick enough to make it to the bathroom. There we both were, covered in vomit, 110 stories in the air, overlooking the Chicago skyline.

Deep Breath. Ok.

We changed her outfit in the bathroom, and I was able to strip/add a layer myself. (Thank goodness for layers and back up outfits in diaper bags!)
KIDS COME WITH TIP: Pack backup outfits for your kids. Also, 1-2 tops for you. Because, Vomit.

I thought (hoped?) her getting sick was the result of an upset stomach from our elevator ride 110 stories up. After all, I felt a little woozy myself. (Little did I know that I was newly pregnant with her little brother). It’s that naive calm that allowed us to have that sweet moment when this picture was taken. Lies.

About 30ish seconds after this picture, my sweet girl looked into my eyes… and I knew it was coming, again. I panicked. I had used my trusty back up plastic bag for our clothes that were already covered in vomit. It was tightly tied in the bottom of the stroller. I had nothing, nothing to catch the vomit. I knew we wouldn’t make it to the bathroom in time (again). So I took a deep breath, set her down in the corner, kneeled down next to her… and let her throw up into my hands. Right there, into my hands. At the top of one of the most famous buildings in the world.

My husband quickly picked up our little girl to clean her up with some wipes, while I went into the bathroom to clean up (again). Unfortunately, I was pretty much out of layers. We quickly grabbed our belongings, rode 110 stories back down to ground-level, hailed a taxi (noting the sign indicating the $50 “clean up fee” should someone vomit in the back seat – which honestly, I considered quite reasonable), waived to the bean (Cloud Gate) as we passed, and booked it to our hotel room as quickly as humanly possible.

Back in the hotel room, the amazing staff at the front desk (shout out to the Westin in Chicago!) sent up ginger ale, crackers, sheets, towels, and more sheets. They pointed me to a pharmacy down the street to pick up Tylenol and Ibuprofen, and we tended to our kiddo. That night, I attended my best friend’s amazing wedding while my husband took care of our poor kiddo in the hotel room. By the next morning, her fever had broken, and she was 12 hours vomit-free. I called our pediatrician’s office and followed their guidance about how to make the decision of when to fly home.

Here’s the deal. Kids are going to get sick, whether you’re at home or on a vacation. For the longest time, we just started to expect that our kids were going to get sick because we were traveling. The slightest sniffle before a flight, I’d be whisking them to the pediatrician for an ear check. (No one likes to fly with ear infections). Before my brother’s wedding across the country, I kept both of our kids home for a solid week before the trip. I gave them elderberry gummies and vitamin C. I held my breath. And I waited. And it happened again!! Eventually, we realized that our daughter is just a throw-up-y kid. (We’ve since learned she has something called Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome). We also realized that rather than trying like Hell to fight illness ahead of our trips, we just had to be prepared for the inevitable sickness (packing extra outfits, medications, Benadryl, all the wipes), and go with the flow. Or, you know – the vomit. 🤮🤢🤷‍♀️

*Edited to add: Now, six family vacations and five states. Adding Las Vegas, Nevada to the list.