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As a travel writer, I’ve stayed in tons of hotels with my kids — these 5 habits make all the difference

I love traveling with my kids. During almost every school break, long or short, we pack a bag and hit the road. That means I’ve checked into more hotel rooms than I can count with my kids in tow.

My family has stayed everywhere from dingy budget inns to luxe rooms in five-star resorts. However, no matter where we stay, I always follow the same routine as soon as we get to our hotel to ensure my family has the best stay possible.

I ask for a corner room

Several years ago, I booked a standard room at the lowest rate for a trip to Orlando. I was pleasantly surprised to find a spacious room when I tapped my key and walked in.

The next year, my family returned to Orlando and booked the same room type at the same hotel. However, during our second visit, I was assigned a noticeably smaller room. After looking at a map posted in the hallway, I realized why the two rooms were different, even though they were the same room type on the same floor. The first room I stayed in was a corner room, while the second was sandwiched between other rooms in the middle of the hallway.

Now, I always request a corner room when I check in. Hotels don’t always have corner rooms available, but when I am lucky enough to get one, the extra space helps.

I request a room far away from the elevator

Some hotels are noisier than others. Dealing with the sounds of other guests and hotel staff is par for the course when traveling. Most of the time, there isn’t anything I can do about a discourteous neighbor who slams a door in the middle of the night or the clink of room service delivering meals on porcelain plates.

The one thing I can usually control is avoiding the ding of elevators and the chatter of guests as they wait to board or disembark. A simple fix is to request a room as far away from the elevators as possible. As with requesting a corner room, hotels can’t always accommodate this request. However, because most hotel rooms are farther away from the elevator, I usually snag a quieter room when I ask nicely.


A young boy is reading on a bed in a hotel room.

The author said she always unpacks when staying in a hotel room with her kids, even for shorter stays. 

Courtesy of Jamie Davis Smith.



I make sure the room’s alarm isn’t set to go off

When I travel, I rely heavily on an alarm app on my phone to ensure I wake up in time. However, I learned the hard way that some travelers still use the alarm clocks found in many hotel rooms to wake them from a deep slumber at all hours of the day and night.

Nothing is worse than getting an early wake-up call because the previous room occupant set an alarm for early morning, and housekeeping didn’t catch it before new guests arrived. After the third time my kids were woken by unexpected alarms in the wee hours of the morning, ruining the first day of our vacation, I learned my lesson.

I now check for an in-room alarm immediately upon arriving in a new room. If I can’t tell whether an alarm is set or not, I unplug the clock to avoid any unpleasant surprises. I’m certain this small step has made a huge difference in my family getting a good night’s sleep on some of our trips.

I ask for extra towels

Even though many hotel rooms are generously stocked with towels, my family always seems to go through them at an alarming rate. Between multiple people showering, two of whom have long hair that requires additional towels, random spills, and water inevitably splashing on the bathroom floor, towels disappear quickly.

To avoid scrambling for a clean towel, I always request extra upon arrival. I also ask housekeeping to place extra towels in our room every day during our stay. It’s a simple, easy request that helps us keep our room and my children clean during our stay.

More on traveling with kids

I always unpack

When I first started traveling with my kids, I thought it would be easier to live out of our suitcases. Inevitably, clothing got tossed on the floor, we descended into chaos, and special lovies got left behind.

Now, I religiously use packing cubes to keep everything organized. After checking in, my kids and I always take our packing cubes out of our suitcases and put them away in shelves, drawers, or closets. Taking packing cubes out of our luggage only takes a few minutes, but it makes a huge difference in creating a calm, organized environment.




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I stayed home while my family traveled because I needed a break. I loved my alone time.

When people asked me what I was doing for the holidays, I responded almost too giddily, “I’m spending it alone.” Their eyes narrowed, “What?”

I told them I was sending my husband and the kids to his family in Massachusetts, and I’d stay back in Pennsylvania. All. By. Myself. I wouldn’t have to answer to anyone or for anything. Not requests for snacks or one more backrub. I wouldn’t have to sit rigid, wondering if one of my three kids was creeping out of a bed that wasn’t theirs. Or defend my parenting style while my oldest yelled about how life wasn’t fair and we must all really hate him, and why should he have to listen to anyone anyway.

After a beat, every single mom (and a few dads) told me: “I’m jealous. I want to do that. How did you swing that?”

I had hit a breaking point

The decision to be alone during the holidays came slowly at first and then all at once. I’d hit a breaking point that most parents, especially moms, are all too familiar with. But the moment I toyed with the idea of staying back — in a quiet, clean, empty house — that was it. It was all I could think about.


Family at the beach

The author’s spouse was supportive of her taking time off.

Courtesy of the author



I broached the topic, gently, with my husband, who couldn’t have been more supportive and emphatic. “You should take a few days away!” But I didn’t want to be away. I wanted to be home alone. That was the key.

As the days ticked closer to The Big Departure, people asked me when Jeff and the kids were leaving. “Wednesday, but I can’t ask when, specifically,” I’d laugh.

I explained to the kids that I needed some alone time; I needed to take a break. They, who are 8, 5, and 3, were relatively unfazed. My middle, big-feeling daughter made me promise to call her every two minutes. I wanted them to know that it was OK for Mom (or Dad) to step away and be alone. It didn’t mean I loved them any less. Something, something about distance making the heart grow fonder.

Self-care is crucial

Mental health experts agree. Solitude can be a crucial form of self-care (unless it makes you truly uncomfortable to be totally alone). “When you seek out intentional solitude, and the demands on your attention and focus melt away, it allows you to have a level of awareness that can support healing and growth,” Emily Moriarty, M.Ed., a licensed professional counselor and director of clinical services at Reset Outdoors, told Business Insider.

Finally, they were off. And I didn’t know what to do with myself. Everything was weirdly quiet. Clean. Empty. I loved it. I had a couple of low-key plans over the next few days, but my goal was to savor the silence and the lack of a schedule.


Living room

The author really enjoyed her time alone.

Courtesy of the author



When 5 p.m. rolled around on the first night, I started making dinner while listening to music. I danced a little. I ate while reading a book. No one argued with me that they didn’t like what was served. Cleanup was easy. I put my dishes away. I didn’t need to sweep — I don’t spill things on the floor.

I turned my phone off; I didn’t need an alarm. No one needed to reach me, and if they did, they could wait. Dad was more than capable. I slept in. I drank coffee on the couch in front of the fire in my pajamas. I forced myself to allow things to move slowly — something I have a hard time doing with or without kids.

“Solitude doesn’t include sitting alone in an office working,” Moriarty said. “It has to be non-work, non-caregiving time.”

When it was time for the Big Holiday Meal, I thought I’d feel a little lonely. But I didn’t, and that, I realized, was because this was my choice. I knew my family was enjoying themselves with relatives they don’t often see and having a little vacation. And I knew that they’d all be home before I knew it.

I had a little mom guilt

By the end of the fourth day, the air was thick with anticipation of the kids and Jeff coming home. I felt like I couldn’t watch TV fast enough. I couldn’t sit in a quiet, empty house fast enough. I couldn’t drink enough coffee fast enough. But when I started making dinner at 5 p.m., awaiting their 8 p.m. arrival, I realized if I had to keep doing this, I might get a little… bored?

I’m sure that has more to do with the stark contrast of raising three kids, co-running a household, and having a (fairly successful) career, and four days of abrupt, near-total solitude. If I didn’t have kids at all, I’m sure I wouldn’t be bored at 7 p.m.

People have since asked me if this will be my new holiday tradition. I did like it, maybe a bit too much, but it feels wrong to indefinitely celebrate the holidays without my kith and kin. Four days weren’t enough to assuage Mom Guilt, apparently.




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