Breathe In, Breathe Out: Meditations for Traveling with Kids

Kid Friendly

Aug 19

2 min read

"Traveling with kids is an exercise in radical acceptance and tactical negotiation."

Those are the words AI returned to me as I began to research funny and practical meditations for parents traveling with young kids.

Here we share some of our favorite silly meditations with the hope of having fun with the chaos of children on planes, trains, and automobiles. OK, we lied. There’s nothing for rail travel.

Terminal Expectations

Breathe in peace, breathe out the third spilled snack bag dropped on the floor in a span of four minutes.

I acknowledge that the airport carpet is not clean, yet my toddler is currently licking it. And also the people mover handrails. And maybe the window. Or all of them.
My child’s emotional breakdown over the triangle-shaped sandwich being cut into rectangles does not define me or my worth as a human being.
I release my attachment to our carefully planned airport plan; we now operate solely on the timeline of airport bathroom availability.

Road-Trippin’ Realities

Inhale patience, exhale the urge to explain the physics of an ETA.

I accept that "Are we there yet?" is not a question but rather a sacred chant designed to test my parental resolve.
The crushed Goldfish crackers ground deeply into the upholstery of the car not just going to affect our resale value. They are also an offering to the travel gods.
I will not be sucked into the argument about whose elbow crossed the invisible boundary of the middle seat. That way lies madness.

In Air. Don’t Care.

Breathe in the cabin air, exhale the fantasy of reading even one page of the two-pound book I brought.

The stranger in 14B staring at me has never known the chaos of a dropped pacifier under an airplane seat. Their ignorance is forgiven.
Screen time limits do not exist above 10,000 feet. The tablet is an act of self-care.
If I can change a diaper in an airplane bathroom, I can do anything.

Checking In and Checking Out

Inhale vacation vibes, plan for the post-vacation recovery.

I welcome that my child who never wakes up before 8 getting up at 5:15 a.m. in a new time zone as a gift of extra life, not a cruel cosmic joke. Well, kinda.
It is OK that dinner tonight was a probably a microwave pizza that somehow cost half my mortgage. We have sustained life.
Someday, this trip will be a fond memory. Today, it is an endurance sport.