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A dad in New York

A dad in New York

 

   

Sandy, dad to Xander 11 months, crossed the pond with his son
to spend some time in New York and Virginia. Find out how they got on
without any maternal supervision!

Are you a child abductor?!

“And where’s his mother?”
“She’s at home – we’re travelling without her this time.”
“Oh …”

The complexities of tone are rarely adequately expressed in the written
format, but if you’d heard that “Oh…” as I heard that “Oh…”, you would
know exactly what people were thinking – “You’ve just abducted your own
child haven’t you?”.

This is a look I got used to receiving when I went on a short trip to
the US with my eleven-month old Xander, without appropriate maternal supervision.
Unfortunately the trip wasn’t for a boy’s only weekend away, but it was
for a family funeral, however I thought that as I was going to stay with
my brother in New York and my mother who was travelling from Australia,
it would be worth taking the young man across to see his uncle and Granny.

My uncle and aunt had lived in Virginia and sadly Sophie had died after
a long illness. My mother Nina, who still lives in Australia hadn’t put
pressure on me, but she knew that her brother would be touched if I made
the effort to come across for the funeral, and I thought if I go why not
the little man too?

The plan was to fly into New York and spend one night, before making
the hour’s trip south to Virginia.

“Oh…you’re brave!”

The “Oh…”‘s began almost as soon as we were dropped off at Heathrow.

Of course once I explained to the “Oh…”‘er that actually I wasn’t on
the run, I was travelling with the full knowledge and approval of “mum”
everything was great, in fact the most surprising aspect of the trip was
the amazing praise and admiration I received from every female (yes –
I lapped it up) and the corresponding “you’re brave” (read “crazy”) from
every man. The funny thing is it’s really not that hard. In fact any hardships
are quickly compensated by the many admiring glances from strangers as
you go about your business. Despite the lack of female company to do the
boring stuff like feeding and the disgusting stuff like nappy changes,
travelling with sprog in tow isn’t really the ordeal it’s alleged to be.

“Oh God, I hope they don’t sit next to
me!"

The first hurdle to overcome is of course the plane ride – every parent
has visions of one hundred strangers looking down at you with barely veiled
hostility as your child does his best impression of a wailing banshee
as they think to themselves “it’s the parent’s fault you know”. Of course
even if your beautiful little person doesn’t turn into devil baby, the
mere thought of them doing so is enough to keep you permanently on edge.

The most immediate passenger concerns of course are your neighbours
and as I approached our seats we came across two unlikely candidates for
“happy to be sitting next to a screaming baby for seven hours” – two twenty-year-old
guys, who as I later found out were off to New York for a weekend of drinking,
lap-dancing and “what goes on tour stays on tour” stories. As they saw
me and Xander approaching (and everybody sees you approaching; either
thinking, “Oh God, I hope they don’t sit next to me”, or “Oh look, a lovely
baby and his father – Oh God, I hope they don’t sit next to me” or “Oh
look a lovely baby that’s been abducted by his father – Oh God, I hope
they don’t sit next to me”) their faces dropped as they saw their seven
hours of free beer and flirting with air hostesses go out the window.

Xander was actually in pretty good form as we boarded the plane at Heathrow;
he’d just had a nice lunch, everything was all pretty exciting and the
afternoon tiredness hadn’t kicked in yet. In fact, despite the fears of
myself, David and Jason (my neighbours) and the rest of flight VA-9 to
JFK, Xander actually had a great time on the plane. Champagne scenario
for me of course was Xander immediately jumping into the skycot leaving
me to the free beer and flirting with air hostesses; as it happened he
was up all the time, but very happily crawling around the floor, looking
out the window, standing up on my lap and lobbing smiles to anyone and
everyone sitting behind us. Thankfully with every smile you could feel
the tension ease as the rest of the plane realised that they weren’t dealing
with the antichrist in Osh Kosh B’Gosh.

There were obviously lots of Americans on the plane and being a friendly
lot a few people came up to say hello to the baby and there were a few
compliments about how placid and good natured Xander was. Of course Americans,
being known for their friendliness but not their appreciation of sarcasm
didn’t find it at all funny when I commented that he was placid because
of the joint that we’d split before we got on.

As the flight wore on Xander made couple of unlikely friends in our two
party-boy boozehounds David and Jason. The funny thing about young guys
is they’re not too sure about babies to start with, but if you leave them
together for a while they start to figure each other out and by the end
of the flight the three of them were having a great time.

After some more crawling around the cabin, charming hostesses and fellow
passengers alike, we hit the ground and made our way to “Cool Uncle Andy"
in New York’s place. Of course with Xander’s body clock being around 2am
he was certainly due his afternoon nap now, so as soon as we jumped in
the car he was out like a light.

A leisurely NYC breakfast

The next morning was spent having a leisurely NYC breakfast followed
by the plane trip down the funeral. As we weren’t in town for long I also
wanted to catch up with a couple of friends who live in New York, so I
tasked my brother with organising a suitable breakfast diner that happened
to be the tres-chic and very, very gay, Chelsea. When a man with a baby
walks onto a plane, the looks are not encouraging; when a two men and
a baby walk into a café in Chelsea it’s seen as a defiant gay-rights statement
affirming homosexual’s right to pro-create as well. You could almost see
our fellow diners thinking – “All right! Gay Dads – whatever those straights
can do, we can do too!”

Much as we were mis-cast as two gay dads in our entrance, our subsequent
conversation seemed to confirm it. Perhaps a little too loudly we answered
the simple question of our movements the previous night with “well we
stayed at home and drank – that’s what you do when you have kids”. After
this seeming confirmation of our gay-dad status quite a few thin and neat
guys came up to us and complemented us on the cuteness of our baby.

Domestic (airport) chaos

After the ordeals of travel and masquerading as homosexuals we went to
the airport and threw ourselves at the mercy of the US domestic airline
system. Most readers would have experience of Heathrow at its most chaotic,
but you’ve seen nothing like this. There were people everywhere – some
in queues, some looking for a queue, many as it turns out in the wrong
queue – total bedlam. Now I’ve mentioned previously the drawbacks of travelling
with a baby; I’m now about to introduce one very big positive.

When we finally got to the front of the queue the deadpan desk person
started tapping away at a keyboard, furrowing her brow and generally sending
out “you’ve got a problem here” body language. She finally announced “Hmm
– we’ll try and get you on this flight”. I would have thought that buying
tickets would be enough to “get you on this flight”, but sadly no. I was
temped to unleash my “this is not acceptable speech”. Opting for a more
subtle strategy I calmly explained that the baby has to get on the plane
to see his Grandmother from Australia who he’s never seen (lie), who’s
come all the way from Australia to see him (lie) and is only staying for
another day (also lie). Frankly I don’t think the deception was really
necessary as she gave me a look and assured me that all would be good.

The time in Virginia was actually great fun as it wasn’t the time of
mournful reflection that it could have been and it was also fantastic
to spend time with my Mum. .

Use your child as an ice-breaker..

After the few days in Virginia we once again braved the US domestic airline
system and went back to New York City. I mentioned before about the friendliness
of Americans and although I did mean it, it was more a set up to an unrecognition
of sarcasm gag as much as anything else. We on this side of the Atlantic
spend a great deal of time laughing at the perceived lack of sophistication
of Americans and although we may be right, they really are the most fantastically
warm and generous people you’ll ever meet. Granted that carrying around
a baby is a huge ice-breaker (even English people have been known to strike
up a conversation to people with babies – without even a formal introduction!),
Americans enjoy nothing more than chatting away and complementing what
they see as beautiful. Even in New York, where people move at fantastic
speeds, they still take the time to say hello, have a conversation or
even passing you down the street give you a smile.

Perhaps this is the best part of travelling with a nipper. The temptation
is when you are negotiating the unfamiliar to keep to yourself and not
stand out too much. With a baby however you are bound to stand out and
advertise your presence to the world and so you are forced out of your
tourist cocoon. This means you find yourself happily chatting away to
total strangers bursting with pride that you could produce something as
patently fabulous as this little person you have with you. As much as
people go overseas to see sights, really the best part of travelling is
seeing people – people you’ve never met before, and never will again,
people you have nothing in common with whose uncommonness is exactly what
makes them so fascinating and the experience of meeting them so good.
I highly recommend shameless use of infants to expedite the process of
meeting new people on the road.

Sandy’s rules for travel with sprog

This article however is really about travelling with a little one and
I wrote it because it’s something that is built up to be far more difficult
that it really is. Not having anyone else to help with the parenting is
actually a wonderful feeling and the responsibility of protecting a little
person constantly is something that all mothers know but that few fathers
probably do. Men are more familiar with the pride that comes with leading
a sporting team or work group, a few would know the responsibility of
leading men in battle where the stakes are higher, but the people you
are leading are adults and so are largely able to look after themselves.
Many more articulate and learned writers have attempted to make this point,
but as much as travelling is great, travelling with a person who has total
and complete dependency on you is an amazing feeling. It’s not egotism
(although let’s face it, it’s not a million miles away) but the pride
of doing a good job in looking after a vulnerable little person is one
of the most fantastically satisfying feelings in this world.

Sandy’s rules for travel with sprog:

  • Accept all the help on offer from worried mum – but don’t get too
    carried away with added kit. Anything you really need will be there
    anyway – for everything else, improvise and overcome.
  • People love babies, people love helping people with babies. Use them
    freely.
  • Babies cannot die from lack of sleep. If tired enough they will sleep
    where they are.
  • Parenting is all about patience, and even more so when on the road.
    Learn to count slowly to ten. Repeat if necessary.
  • Babies are an accelerator to fun, not a handbrake. Just remember
    that it’s a different type of fun.
  • Babies are cute and everyone loves them. Despite how un-cute you
    are, they will love you too. Use it.

Where to next?

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