While traveling through Northern California, we found ourselves at a Hampton Inn, en route to Disneyland. The five of us were crammed into a single room featuring two beds and a rollaway. After an hour of negotiating with my 9-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter about the bed-jumping ban, my 2-year-old was gleefully dismantling the hotel refrigerator, squealing with delight at her newfound chaos.
Initially, when we booked our stay online, the system wouldn’t let us reserve the room due to the occupancy limit of four people. In our naivety, we called the hotel and argued until they finally relented. But after an exhausting day of driving—complete with kids fighting over snacks and the dreaded “Are we there yet?”—all I could long for was a separate room for each of them, a bag of chips, and a peaceful night’s sleep. It was a fleeting thought, but it brought a smile to my face.
My memories of family vacations were filled with images of serene children gazing out the window or peacefully asleep in their hotel beds. However, the reality is far from that idealistic vision.
Sharing a hotel room with kids involves relentless pleading to let them swim in the pool, even when you’re dead tired from hours of driving and dealing with the constant complaints from the backseat. The thought of braving a chilly, echoing hotel pool feels unbearable, yet you muster the willpower to squeeze into a swimsuit, simply to avoid listening to their incessant whining.
It means facing the aftermath of kids dripping water everywhere, with towels strewn about, and the cacophony of wet bathing suits, giggling, and fighting. Just when you think it can’t get worse, the hotel manager knocks on your door, requesting you to keep it down. You apologize profusely while your partner silently frowns at the manager, her demeanor clearly expressing, “You have no idea what it’s like to manage these little monsters.” Meanwhile, you can’t help but assume that the guests below are childless millennials, blissfully ignorant of the chaos of family life.
As the night progresses, you resort to turning on the TV to appease the kids, only to witness them bickering over whether to watch My Little Pony or SpongeBob, both of which happen to be on at the same time. Eventually, you find yourself shouting for everyone to just get along, reminding them that we’re on vacation.
You endure the moments of kids crying over the “funny-tasting” hotel water, and witness the exhaustion of one parent sprawled out with a child, while the others are glued to the screen way past their bedtime, their eyes glazed over in a trance-like state. Giving in, you let them watch, resigned to the long night ahead, bathed in the bluish glow of the television.
Sharing a bed with one or more kids can start as a sweet bonding experience but soon devolves into a tangle of limbs, with children kicking and punching you in the middle of the night. You wake up to find your partner, hair disheveled, struggling with a wide-awake child, her eyes heavy with fatigue, and you, the lucky one who managed to sleep through it all, bear the brunt of her annoyance.
The break of dawn brings more chaos, as the kids implore you to take them to the pool again, while you brace yourself for a mediocre hotel breakfast of stale donuts and yogurt on the brink of expiration.
After the whirlwind night, once the bags are packed and the van is loaded, you hit the road again, pondering whether family vacations are truly worth the effort.
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In summary, sharing a hotel room with kids is a chaotic, exhausting adventure filled with noise, messes, and unexpected challenges, but amidst the madness, there are also moments of joy and laughter that make the experience memorable.