Cruise Travel
August 1, 2006
The Good Old Days

I remember just like it was yesterday. Packing for one. Reading books. Getting a tan. Working out.

For years, a cruise was all about me. My dining preferences. My spa treatments. My half-hour showers. Sleeping in, skipping breakfast, dancing till to 2am. Bicycle rides, kayak excursions, river tubing --- whatever I felt like doing in port was entirely up to me.

Then three years ago my life changed forever. Me me me was replaced with we we we when my twin sons Kavi and Tejas popped into the picture. Where I travel, they travel, and we move about like a giant squid, all arms and legs grabbing, pulling and schlepping.

The days of packing in an hour the night before have been replaced with a full-scale, multi-day production. On those first cruises with the boys, I routinely pushed the limits of physics, jamming a suitcase with twice its volume in diapers, bibs, clothes, blankies, toys and just-in-case medicines. I was a pack mule, strapping on giant duffel bags stuffed with jars of baby food. Now, at three, they’re off the Gerber’s and out of diapers, but there’s still a whole lot of schlepping going on.

And not a lot of time or space for my stuff. I squeeze in a few small, easily scrunchable Lyrca numbers where I can, under stuffed bears and in between stacks of dinosaur pajamas. I am lucky if I can make room for an extra pair of flip-flops. I no longer have issues with wearing something more than once. Black is black --- who’s going to really know? I don’t carry my own shampoo -- I use theirs --- and a curling iron? Who has the time?

On that first cruise out of New York, the taxi dropped us off a block from the nearest porter, so a friend and I shuffled along each pushing a stroller and pulling a suitcase, and crippling our bodies from overloaded backpacks. I literally had flesh wounds by the time we got to the cabin. But no time for a rest, the workweek was just starting.

The first moments in the cabin are spent stowing all our stuff in every nook and cranny that’s out of the boys’ reach. As I stow, I’m simultaneously child proofing, moving glasses and ice buckets to higher ground. Meanwhile, Kavi and Tejas are test-jumping the couch, nosing around the bathroom and hiding in the closets.

This circus is a far cry from the old days, when I’d leisurely poke around the cabin, pop some champagne and flop on the bed to unwind. Each of my outfits would get its own hanger in the closet. A refreshing shower before heading out to explore the ship was hardly a luxury.

Today, each hour is planned. I memorize the playroom and babysitting hours and plot the times I’ll drop off my boys. In those sacred free hours, I squeeze in a little of the old me, booking a massage, taking a spinning class or winding down with a wine-tasting seminar. If we’re lucky, hubby and I will be able to enjoy dinner alone, after putting the boys to sleep and calling in a babysitter or strolling them back to the playroom to snooze there.

In those pre-kid days, I really enjoyed the sociability of a cruise, chatting to fellow passengers at dinner, in bars and lounges and on shore excursions. Now, I do most of my bonding at the kiddy pool, in the buffet restaurant and anywhere parents tend to gather. I connect with the crew in ways I never had before. The restaurant staff is particularly doting, fetching extra milk and napkins, and fussing over the boys, who probably remind them of their own kids back home.

Though traveling with young children is never easy, it’s clear that cruise ships are among the most welcoming vacation options for families. The impressive playrooms and roster of activities rival what’s offered for adults. My guys sure had a blast crawling around the balls pits on the Norwegian Dawn and QM2, recently, and I was brought close to motherly tears of joy when I picked up my son Kavi from the playroom one evening on the Dawn, to find him wearing a cute little paper crown and painted up with a mustache and red apple cheeks.

As a writer, I cruise with my kids for a living, but plenty of real people are doing it too. Cruise Lines International Association (CLIA) pegs the annual number of kids and teens cruising with their parents at about one million of the nearly nine million passengers from North American.

Challenges aside, I can see why.

Whenever I find myself day dreaming about the old days, I remember what I like so much about now. My boys squealing with delight when they see the Statue of Liberty float by from the cabin balcony or when they hear the ship’s horn. The smiles when they’re splashing away in the wading pool, diving into some ice cream or begging to go back to the ball pit. The appealing balance the cozy, nest-like cruise ship environment offers between quality time together and quality time a part.

Truth is, I don’t really miss those “me” only days all that much. I’ve grown pretty attached to “we.”