Road Trip to the Snow: When Expat Dad Met Devil Child

By no means was the weekend a write-off.

Ford Australia kindly loaned us a brand spanking new Kuga SUV to drive to the snow as part of their #FordSkiAdventure. Packed full of smart car technology with features such as push button start/stop, parking assist, and a tailgate that opened (and closed) with a wave of your foot under the bumper, life on this road trip was always going to be easy.

How were they to know what we’d experience on the way home?

We headed to the Australian ski resort of #Thredbo in New South Wales early Thursday morning. After a stop-off in #Canberra overnight, we continued on to our destination and arrived in Thredbo at our hotel, the House of Ullr, late Friday afternoon.

It was the end of the ski season and, in Australia, this equals sun, warmth and rapidly melting snow. Still, there was plenty of the precious white stuff higher up and with plans to ski for the first time in twenty years, we were all set for a weekend of snowploughs, bruised legs and a few shots of peach schnapps thrown in to the mix.

Elliot was booked into daycare for our inaugural attempt at wearing two boards instead of one and after an active and exhilarating first day spent making nervous turns in the slushy snow, we retired to the grounds of a local hotel to enjoy warm apple cider in front of a roaring wood fire.

The perfect end to a perfect day.

Thredbo ski hills.

The next morning, we ordered more of the same – lashings of learner skiing and a brief respite from the responsibilities of parenthood and caring for our son. However we soon had to farewell our short stay in the resort and commence the epic journey back to Sydney. Based on the drive here, it would be a breeze though.

Famous last words.

As I strapped Elliot into his car seat, he gave me the kind of look that signalled danger. He screwed up his face. He began to whine. He started to grizzle. I sensed a worrying change come over him as black storm clouds gathered over our car.

Elliot had decided a change of character was in order. Not content to be his pleasant chubby-cheeked self, he opted to become Devil Child, that harbinger of bad tidings and unstoppable baby noise.

Without further ado, we left Thredbo at high speed, as if a ticking timebomb sat behind us in the car. Recognising the tell-tale signs from my infant son, I predicted we had approximately twenty minutes before Armageddon hit.

And we had a seven hour drive ahead of us.

Those seven hours continue to remain imprinted in my memory more than two weeks after the event. Call it shock or major trauma, my mind tries to bury that particular period of time but fails miserably. I remember calling out to him, talking to him, taking turns with my wife to sit in the back and entertain him, stopping the car to hold him, trying desperately to feed him, doing whatever we could to placate this creature of the dark, no doubt brought to us from a close friend of Satan.

Confined to a small, increasingly claustrophobic space for 420 minutes of my life without respite from the torture of this infant terror, I remember thinking long and hard about what we could have done differently on this road trip. Were we adequately prepared? What had we forgotten? How did we get to this hellish place?

The snazzy Ford Kuga and I.

Here’s what I discovered.

Use drugs. Not on yourself but for your child. Obviously the legal kind but preferably super-strength. I’m not a doctor or pharmacist so I’d never dream of recommending a specific drug but use the effective ones that come with proven guarantees i.e. “knocks them out for two days” or “also used to tranquilise elephants”. Pay whatever it costs for the very best and dose up your very own devil child as many hours before the trip starts as you can.

Distract them with educational material. In other words, buy a portable DVD player and load it up with mindless drivel – adults dressed up in multi-coloured fluffy outfits garbling utter nonsense at the screen. Turn up the volume on the player, put on your own headphones and don’t look back. Ever. And if you don’t believe in the wondrous power of TV, stick to the previous point but double the dosage.

Bring food. And lots of it. Pump them full of milk, pureed fruit, fish fingers, chicken, ham, burgers, steaks, whatever you’ve got that includes high amounts of protein and carbs. If they eat and eat and then eat some more, there’s a good chance they might sleep and sleep and then sleep some more. It might not work but try it because, at this point, you’ve got nothing to lose.

Optimise sleep time. Not the baby’s but your own. Screw the baby, you need to get some hard-earned rest before you attempt a mammoth road trip. Sleep at the side of the road, in the corner of the cafe, under a tree. Whatever you do, try to get more than the four hours you currently average. Put yourself first. Because you’re worth it.

Ideally leave them behind. Not home alone, but in the care of a responsible person, preferably the mother-in-law. Share the pain and let someone else far more deserving experience the living hell you deal with on a daily basis.

By following these points, you might experience a less painful journey to and from the snow, but try to remember to never, ever bring along a sick baby for the ride.

Because that’s just silly. Silly, silly, silly.

Did I miss anything from this list? Any advice, pearls of wisdom or war stories to share?

Someone else who struggled with the concept of babies and small children is Dominic Knight, the comedy writer, broadcaster and The Chaser co-founder who recently released his third book, Man Vs Child and I’ve got 5 copies to give away (valued at $35 AUD each in the shops).

The book is a witty and amusing look at a single, thirty-something man’s existence in Sydney as he watches those around him embrace a life of screaming babies, dirty nappies and ever-present baby wipes, leaving him as the last man standing

The books draws on Dom’s experience of the comedy world, working in radio, and being immature and childless, and the insights into his ‘real’ life are apparent throughout the book. The lead character, Dan, spends his day with highly-annoying breakfast radio, Bry Dynamite and Silly Sally, and his nights as a budding stand-up comedian, but can’t understand why anyone would want to spend their free time dealing with children. That is, until his childhood sweetheart, newly single Penny, walks back into his life… with her young son.

If you’re a fan of David Nicholls, Ben Elton and Nick Hornby, you’ll enjoy Dom’s latest book, which ranges from laugh-out loud moments in the radio station and on the stage to those poignant times when it becomes obvious that Dan is being left behind and needs to catch-up fast. Sometimes books in the spirit of Man Vs Child try too hard to elicit a laugh at the expense of others less fortunate but Dom treats the story with sensitivity and humour. You get a true, real-life sense of Dan’s emotional struggles with his friends, girlfriends and current way of life.

Fancy reading the book yourself?

Random House Australia have given me five e-reader copies to give away. All you need to do is leave a comment below and I’ll select five winners next week at random. Just make sure you check back here as I’ll update the post (and the Facebook page) next week with the winner’s names and a request for winners’ email addresses.

So make sure you leave a quick comment below to enter.

UPDATE: This competition is now closed. Picked at random, the five winners were Wren, Liene, Patricia Elizabeth Dolan, Carrie and Martin Joyce. Send a quick email to [email protected] and I’ll get your e-copy sent out right away.

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About Russell Ward

I am a writer and expat who isn’t afraid of exploring both the good and bad that comes with seeking out a different way of life. I am the author of The Life Less Ordinary Manifesto and I regularly send out an email newsletter with free tips for living your own remarkable life.

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