Here’s a light edit — tightened for flow and clarity, softened where it felt prescriptive, and keeping your voice intact.
I’m sitting on the deck of a cottage overlooking the Strait of Georgia, wind rustling the Douglas firs above my head. It sounds idyllic, but really I’m taking a breather after a two-hour battle to get my boys to sleep while their dad tried to meet a deadline in the corner of our room.
It was two against one.
Two wildly energetic boys desperate for their dad’s attention: vaulting off beds, pulling down curtains, screaming, hitting — you name it. This is travel with kids while working. It’s a constant push and pull: trying to be productive while inadvertently creating power struggles because they don’t understand why one parent needs to focus on something other than them.
At home, the working parent disappears behind a closed door and the kids orient to the parent who’s fully present. On the road, everyone’s in the same room. The split focus can turn into all-out chaos. When the working parent can step away — to a café or workspace — things often settle. Even then, travel can feel destabilizing when one parent is flying solo.
Travel is exciting and fun. It’s also overstimulating, unfamiliar, and sometimes a little scary for kids. I’ve noticed our smoothest trips are the ones where we leave work completely behind. When we’re fully present, the kids seem to settle into each new place more easily. They look more relaxed, more secure, even as we shift from one location to the next.
As for “best” and “worst” ages to travel — I have mixed feelings. Every child is different, and every age has its edges.
I loved traveling with my boys as babies. They were easygoing, and I didn’t need much — a carrier and a diaper bag and we were off. From about nine months to two years, once they were walking, things got intense. Plane aisles, public parks, pushing empty strollers while sprinting after toddlers determined to test gravity. After two, attention spans lengthened a bit and plane rides became more manageable.
Three, though. Three has been a chapter.
At three, each of my boys seemed newly committed to discovering creative ways to endanger themselves: unlocking hotel doors, vanishing into hiding spots, climbing into pools, darting toward streets, refusing hands. I have a lot of compassion now for parents using toddler leashes. Sometimes everyone just needs to get through the day safely.
Four was easier with my older son, and each year after that brought a little more ease. If you’re traveling with a “threenager” and quietly vowing never again, I understand. It does change. And yes, I’m still traveling with this three-year-old — sometimes with a wrist tether — because we both need to survive the adventure.
We’ve also noticed that family travel feels different from independent travel. Weddings, holidays, reunions — they carry layers of social expectation and logistics. Kids seem to absorb that ambient stress and reflect it back. Staying with family or friends can be wonderful, but if the environment is tense for the adults, the kids often feel it too.
For us, home exchange has been an interesting solution — a way to stay near family while keeping our own space and rhythm. It requires planning ahead and a bit of flexibility, but having autonomy seems to make a difference in how we all settle.
That’s just our experience. Travel with kids can be messy and magical in the same breath. We’re still figuring it out — finding our footing, adjusting expectations, and learning what works for our family.
